May 31st, 1943; Monday (6:15 AM) Gestapo HQ

On the frequent occasions that Hans allowed his imagination to wander unsupervised, it led him down a trail that was cluttered with flashes of blonde hair and blurs of red lips. Those fleeting brushes of her fingertips on his neck… the sensation of her lips beneath his… it was maddening. She was his intoxicating temptress; the entity of his most impure fantasies, and she was inescapable. Every time he closed his eyes she was there, with her bottom lip between her teeth and eyes burning with lust.

The way she was able to awaken his sex drive like it was her job was mind boggling. She was young, but she knew exactly what she was doing. A calculated flick of her tongue over his bottom lip served as a distraction while she would hook her fingers into his belt. She'd gotten very skilled at unfastening it without looking; what a fast learner she was. She'd then move to his neck, her lips travelling slowly downward with the occasional nip just to make him moan. His body would feel weak, but invigorated at the same time when her mouth journeyed down his chest and the front of his body until she'd finally fall down to her knees. He adored that impish viridescent glint in her eyes when she looked up at him before taking him into her mouth.

He also loved that she was so willing to give her body to him and do as he pleased with it. She allowed him to showcase him dominant personality in such a way that was private just to her. Hans always found himself spurred further by her response to his hand slipping into her hair and giving it an aggressive pull. She had such a beautiful voice, and it was such a treat to hear her choke out his name through a moan with his fingers around her throat.

Keeping a woman that was capable of bringing both a little hell and a little heaven satisfied was a tall order, but it was the most enjoyment he'd had in a relationship in quite some time. With the eyes of an angel, and the lips of the devil, Krista seemed to be the very manifestation of the faceless woman that haunted the risqué side of his dreams for years.

It had been nine days since they'd last seen each other, but who was keeping count? The image of her legs untangling from his and her fingers dancing over his chest that last morning they shared was still fresh in his mind. He gave himself a moment and closed his eyes to relive it while the busy office building was loud outside his door. He could almost feel the barely there brush of her pillowy lips over his and hear the sweet sound of her voice lending itself to his name played on an endless loop.

That morning was suddenly coming back very clearly. He had been late to report that morning. Krista had learned very quickly how to ignite his with such precision, that he was powerless to resist without fail. All it took was slowest, most intentional graze of her tongue up the side of his neck followed by a single kiss to his pulse point, and she'd have him right where she wanted him.

Krista was vicious; her kisses filled with venom that took him to a state of weightlessness in a way that was unfamiliar and exciting. This woman was tricky like a siren. She had lured him in and wrapped him up before he knew what hit him, and she didn't even do it intentionally.

Hans regrettably opened his eyes and turned toward the door after he heard someone knocking sharply on the glass. "It's too early for this…" he muttered to himself. "Come in," he called out, changing his tone quickly.

"You requested me, sir?" Dieter Hellstrom stood in the door way, leaning against the door frame with a discreetly concerned expression plastered on his face.

"Yes, Major. Please come in." Hans gestured to the chair opposite his and Dieter slid inside the office, closing the door quietly behind him. Landa stood to close the blinds on his hallway facing windows and reclaimed his seat. After clearing his throat, he leaned forward, his elbows resting on the edge of the desktop. "As you've heard, I am set to spend a week in Berlin at the beginning of July."

Dieter nodded.

"I would like you to personally keep a watchful eye on Krista for me."

Dieter's head lolled to the side as he rolled his eyes undetectably. "Respectfully, you can't be serious."

"I understand that she is a sensitive subject for you. But I know that you do care about her like I do. And I know that I can entrust you with this."

Dieter squeezed the bridge of his nose. Tailing Han's beautiful woman that he was so smitten for was torturous. It was the last thing he wanted to do. He sighed, straightening his postured in his chair before catching Landa's eyes. "I do care about her."

"I know you do. That's why you're the only one that I can trust to keep her out of harm's way in my stead." Hans raked his hand though his hair before hesitantly continuing. "Kaltenbrunner has been harassing her. And I'm afraid that his actions will reflect his threats if I'm hundreds of kilometers away... But that can't leave this room."

"I understand. I'll watch her," Dieter agreed.

Hans slid a crumpled envelope across the table, but kept his hand on it. "If anything happens to her, I will never forgive you, Dieter."

Hans's eyes bore into him and the mood shifted suddenly. He was dead serious. "I understand." Dieter glanced down at the envelope, and quickly slid it from the desk into his lap. He counted the bills inside the envelope and looked up at Hans with a knowing expression. "You love her. You wouldn't be asking me to do this if you didn't."

Hans sighed and spun his chair to look out the window out at the fog shrouded avenue below. "Perhaps I do. Even if she doesn't feel the same. Regardless, I'd like to return from Berlin to her beautiful face."

"Yes, sir." Dieter stood up and followed Landa's gaze out the window as he pushed the envelope of francs into his tunic pocket. "I'll make sure that you do."

"Thank you, Dieter. Your loyalty means much more to me than what it appears. Please keep her safe." Hans turned back to Dieter and offered him a nod. "But be discreet. She's very in tune with her surroundings at all times." Hans clapped a hand on Dieter's back. "Thank you, Major Hellstrom. That will be all."

Dieter snapped his heels together and offered a salute before taking his leave.

Clasping his hands behind his head, Hans leaned back in his chair. A wave of relief washed over him, and he relaxed. A fight was what he was expecting from Hellstrom, but he barely argued at all. With the nerve wracking conversation out of the way though, he could dig through the stack of files on his desk without worry.

With a light of a cigarette and a drink of his weak coffee, he picked up the first file on the stack and tilted his head to the side slightly to read the tab. 'Red's Showgirls'. He'd retract his previous statement; it was too early in the morning for this. Surely whatever is inside this file has nothing to do with Krista. He sat said file aside and grabbed the next. Now was not even close to the time for that.

Four cigarettes in, he made it through the third file in the stack and turned his wrist to check his watch. How had it only been an hour and a half? He glanced to the Red's Showgirls file that sat to his side and flipped open the cover to check the signature at the bottom of the first page. 'E. Kaltenbrunner'. Of course.

If Hans remembered correctly, Kaltenbrunner's visit was supposed to be just that. A visit. His wife wanted to see the city, so they made the trip. Hans could be mistaken, but he didn't believe that Ernst really had the authority to open investigations in a city he wasn't stationed in. However with the upper chain of command having free reign to do damn near whatever they pleased, it didn't come as a surprise to him that rank was yet again being pulled.

Kaltenbrunner had a very strong distaste-borderline hatred-for Krista for no real reason, except for the fact that he viewed her as a threat to their work in France. This file that had been so specifically placed at the top of the stack was intended to be a catalyst. His plan was to plant this seed in hopes that Hans would think twice about involving himself with a woman that was potentially knowingly and willingly participating in illegal activity. He wanted to open Landa's eyes to the shady business conducted behind the scenes when her beloved club was closed to the public.

He was back on his bullshit trying to stir a pot that had yet to exist. Hans slammed the file shut and stood up from his desk with his cigarette still burning between his thumb and his forefinger. He breathed in the outside air after cracking the window, and exhaled a plume of smoke out the small opening. With the blue hour waning, the sun began its rise in the east, the haze below glistening in its rays. The Saints James lie directly across the avenue, its gated entry and tree lined property clearly visible from his window.

Krista was killing him slowly, but he didn't care.

3:52 PM (Still Gestapo HQ)

Somehow, Hans had made it through the entirety of his day without the unwanted disruption of Kaltenbrunner's scheming self in his office. He considered that to be quite an achievement, really.

He looked down at the time displayed on his watch. Fuck it. It was close enough to four o'clock. Time to blow this Popsicle stand.

Hans gathered up his things and shoved them back into his briefcase along with the Red's file. He glanced out the window in the direction of the Saint James again before shutting it tightly and drawing the blinds. He left his office dark and vacant, his pace relatively quick in an effort to escape the office building without anyone noticing.

The safety of the outside world was not nearly safe enough though. The motorpool was a short walk away, only about a block or two. He could see his car from where he was standing... He was on the home stretch. "Hans." He stopped walking and sighed heavily to himself. So fucking close. "Did you get the gift that I left for you?" Ernst adjusted his cover and crossed his arms.

"I did."

"And?"

"And I haven't had the time to read over it adequately." Hans pulled his car key from his pocket, trying to make it look like he had somewhere else to be.

"I recommend you do. Your mistress's name appears in there more than once." He flashed Hans a wicked grin.

"What are you trying to get at with this?"

"Since you don't seem to want to listen to me, I thought I'd show you in writing. Krista has made herself very comfortable with people we have been looking into for months. These are people are helping Jewish girls get out of Europe right under our noses."

A ratline that begins in a strip club? That's the craziest thing Hans had ever heard. They were just dancers. They hadn't the connections to carry out anything of that nature. "And what? You think Krista is involved?" Hans asked, stunned with the insinuation.

"If she isn't now, she will be eventually," Ernst stated confidently.

"Quite frankly, I think you're very wrong. She's got the intelligence to know better."

"But does she really? You've known her for two months. That's not enough time to form that solid of an opinion. Especially when she's supposed to be the enemy." Kaltenbrunner was growing irritated, and Hans found it amusing. He was getting worked up over nothing.

"With all due respect," Hans said, taking a step closer to Kaltenbrunner. "I think that maybe if you weren't spending so many nights in that club, your marriage wouldn't be in shambles right now."

He was taken aback. Hans had crossed a line. "Leave my marriage alone, Hans. You don't want to start something you know you can't finish."

Hans popped open his briefcase and slid out the Red's file. "I want nothing to do with this. Leave my name out of it." He extended the folder, and Kaltenbrunner snatched it from his grasp. "Good day, Obergruppenführer." Hans stormed off, weaving his way through the neatly parked 200 Langs that boxed his own car in.

"You'll never learn! She'll ruin you!" Kaltenbrunner called out after Hans as he walked away. "You'll never learn…" he mumbled, looking down at the file in his hand before shaking his head and stalking off in the opposite direction.

Next stop: home.

The temperature was much higher now than it was that morning, and Hans felt like he was sweating through his shirt. As an expert multitasker, he was able to rid himself of his tunic all while still smoothly shifting the manual transmission as he should. His sleeves were rolled half way up his forearms, and his tie tossed into the passenger seat atop his tunic. He eased off the brakes, allowing the car to simply roll forward slowly as he unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt before replacing his hand on the shifter and shifting into first gear.

Out the passenger window at his next stop, he saw the Saint James still taunting him. 'Just go see her' was what the voice in his head was telling him. It would only take a right turn at the next intersection and he could loop around and wind up right at the hotel's front gate.

He weighed his options: Go home and drink a martini by himself, or take the chance that Krista's available and spend the rest of the day with a partner. His question seemed to have answered itself. He found himself parked out front of the hotel before he knew it.

He pulled his tunic back on, and replaced his cover before heading toward the entrance to the ritzy hotel.

His heart began to flutter in anticipation as he pressed his hand flat to her door before knocking twice. Krista's voice floated through the door, and he leaned against the door frame while he waited.

"With a body like that… If you go to hell my love, I'll follow you there," Hans muttered wistfully once she stood before him through the opened door, his eyes raking up her body from head to toe as a devilish grin graced his lips.

He watched her as she ran the tip of her tongue over her top lip and mirrored his grin. "Well hello to you too," she purred as she reached out a hand, her fingertip meeting his skin when she slipped it into his unbuttoned shirt to tug him inside. "You've been hiding from me," she said as he pressed the door closed.

The only thing he wanted right then and there was her. He wanted to rip that black robe from her frame and press her body into the glass on the balcony door before assaulting her throat in needy kisses. Kisses that would fan the fire within her and leave her hopelessly desperate for his touch.

"Not on purpose," he defended, his eyes trained on her bare lips. He couldn't help but stare.

Hans walked her backward to the bed, his lips hovering over hers in such a way that they'd touch with every collective step they took. It was such delicious torture the way her breath tickled his lips and he was dying for more. He captured her bottom lip between his briefly before making himself comfortable on the edge of her bed. "Well I'm glad you came."

"How could I not? I can't stop thinking about you." She turned her back to him, and tugged the tie around her waist free, letting the satin fall to the ground into a puddle at her feet.

Hans shrugged his tunic off and placed it behind him before she turned back to face him and he beckoned her forward. The way she twisted her ponytail around her fingers as she walked just made him want grab ahold of it and tug. He patted his leg and his eyes trailed along her legs when they carried her to him. "Do you think about me a lot?"

He was met with a pair of sparkling green eyes as she sat straddled across his right leg. Her hands snaked beneath his shirt after unfastening a few more buttons and he could feel his pants growing tighter by the second. "All the time."

"Oh yeah?" She asked him, her fingertip brushing over one of his nipples.

He closed his eyes and brought his hands to her bare hips and dug into her skin.

Her lips moved to his neck, her words a tease across his skin. "Do you fantasize about me?"

He couldn't stop himself from snickering through his grin. "More often than I'd like to admit… I've been known to overindulge." He often times thought about what it would be like for her to place enough trust in him to relinquish complete and total control. His dreams were filled with images of him teasing her with nothing more than his tongue and the tips of his fingers surrounded by warm candlelight. But why stop there?

With Krista's sometimes borderline arrogant attitude, she deserved to be punished. A relatively unsophisticated punishment is what he had in mind. He wanted simply tease her until her body was quivering beneath his palms. The thought of bringing her to the verge of tears because she physically couldn't take any more would surely result in her begging and pleading for him to fuck her into tomorrow. And fuck… she was beautiful when she was a desperate mess because of him.

He sighed to himself when her hands left his chest but when he opened his eyes again, her hands skimmed from the column of her throat and down her breasts that were only masked by the thinnest of silks. Hans thoroughly enjoyed watching her hands grace her curves because it was clear that she had taken the time explore her own body, and she was inadvertently presenting what she wanted. In short, he just liked to watch her touch herself. "Tell me what you fantasize about…" she said, adopting the low seductive tone that was a delightful stimulant.

His hands floated from her hips to her back where the clasp that held together the only article that separated her breasts from his hands. As he helped her bra off of her shoulders and down her arms, he found himself marveling at her picturesque form atop him. "So excited for me," he murmured while a thumb brushed over an erect nipple.

"You didn't answer my question," she pressed playfully, scooting herself further into his personal space until their noses met.

One hand fell back to her hip, the other planting gently on the back of her neck. The barely visible twitch in her lips was evidence that she wanted nothing more in the moment than to take his lips for her own. "If I told you that, it would ruin all of my fun."

With a slight tilt of her head, their lips were merely touching again. "Alright fine," she whispered. "Then tell me what you think about late at night… when you're in bed all alone…"

If opening that can of worms was what she wanted, it's what she'd get. "I think about your lips," he began, creating enough space between them for him to lock their gazes. "And the way you moan my name…" This was just too easy for him. He felt that he was close to having her squirming, but he wasn't finished yet. He knew what she was really after. His fingers wrapped snugly around her throat, his fingertips against her jaw. He gave her a tender squeeze and the quiet whimper that she stifled was enchanting. "I think about how absolutely beautiful you look with my hand around your throat." Hans tilted her head back and let his thumb trail over her bottom lip.

She hummed, the sound sending vibrations through his hand. "Is that all?"

Silly girl… Of course that wasn't all. "My personal favorite…" he started, finally drawing her lips to his for a brief peck as to not give her what she wanted just yet. He dropped his voice to that low whisper that drove her wild and moved his hand from her throat to behind her head. Hans twisted her ponytail firmly in his grip while his opposite arm encircled her to force her chest into his. "…Is when I wake up in the middle of the night with the thought of how you leave me breathless when you go down on me." With a gentle tug, her head fell back, and he looked down into her demanding eyes.

One hand shifted to her ass when he felt her hips roll into him. In response, she arched her lower back which simply urged him to give her a squeeze. "You better be careful talking to me like that. You'll get me worked up."

She already was though. She needn't say anything; her body acted as her mouthpiece. Hans could feel the rapid pounding of her heart in her chest. He simply ignored her and continued. "Do you know why that's my favorite?" He asked her, eyeing her like his prey.

"Why?" Her tongue appeared briefly to swipe over her to lip as she arched into him again.

He chuckled darkly, and loosed his grip on her hair just to move it to her waist. "Because you enjoy it." Hans scooped her up easily and walked her back to the glass balcony door that had been warmed by the beating of the afternoon sun. She was all muscle, but she still wasn't very heavy. "I love a woman that finds pleasure in pleasing me." He drank in her gasp when her skin met the glass, and he couldn't stop the soft moan from escaping his lips as her nails dug into the back of his neck. Krista released her legs from his hips and let them fall to the floor.

Her fingers slithered their way down his chest and stopped at his belt. "I do enjoy it," she breathed, unfastening his belt and pulling it free. He took a step back and watched intently as she fashioned it into a makeshift set of restraints with two loops for her wrists. She slipped her hands through, and he grabbed the tail of the belt to pull it tight. Curiosity struck him as he wondered where she learned that, but then again… he didn't really care. She was doing it for him now.

Hans grabbed ahold of her wrists and pulled her arms over his head, giving their mouths nowhere else to go but together. He began with slow, deliberate presses before he became a slave to his urges. Her lips were just too perfect. He needed those filthy kisses like he needed oxygen to breathe.

Krista's body temperature was rising with every flick of his tongue. Although understated, he could feel it on her thigh when he lifted her left leg around his hips. He grinned as she subdued a curse at the sensation of his teeth in her bottom lip. Her head fell back, leaving her throat now exposed to him. He placed a wet kiss at the base and drew a tantalizing line up the side of her neck before settling back at her lips.

Frantically, his roving hands wandered and squeezed wherever he could until she pulled herself away, licking her lips. "I can't believe how hard I make you," she said as she caught her breath.

"Neither can I," he admitted.

He allowed her arms free from around his neck, and his eyes fell closed at the tenderness of the kiss she placed directly at his pulse point. She dropped her leg back down to the floor. When Hans opened his eyes, he was met with the sight of Krista on her knees with her bound hands working his zipper down. "How long do you think you could last?" She asked, looking up with an almost appreciative expression. She really did enjoy this.

He cupped the side of her face and ran the pad of his thumb over her swollen lip. "Five minutes at most," he answered, taking hold of her ponytail again. Keeping himself quiet when she pulled him out of his pants and stroked painfully slow was pointless.

"You can do better than that…"

The second her lips touched him, it was over. Five minutes was generous. Krista was his undoing. "Use your tongue for me," he urged. The way she ran her tongue all along his length without breaking contact was always his go to when he was in bed with just him and his hand. The idea was nice, but actually feeling her tongue on made him lose his mind. "Yes… just like that…"

It really didn't take him long. Her tongue swirled around him as he thrust carefully in and out of her mouth. Hans was overtaken by bliss as he moaned out her name and gave her hair a sharp pull. "Fuck…" he breathed, spilling into her mouth. As he panted, he released her hair, and stood up straight. He gazed down at her smiling face, ignoring the beads of sweat that were dripping down his chest. Panting, he tucked himself back into his pants and finally shed his shirt.

He offered a hand and brought Krista to her feet before loosening the belt around her wrists so she could be released of it. "Was it everything you dream about?"

Her words lingered over his lips as her breathing finally returned to normal. "And so much more," he whispered, giving her a soft peck on the lips.

Reality to him was always so much better than the fantasy.

Author's Note: Fun fact: The title of this chapter was inspired by 'No Problems' by Onicks and Marqui Jordan.