PLEASE NOTE: I do not give permission for any reproduction, re-imagination, or re-adaptation of this story in any way, shape, or form.

July 8th, 1943; Thursday (8 PM)

He shouldn't have been there.

He should have been at Red's.

He should have been sitting at the tip rail watching his girl command attention on stage. His last night in Paris for a week, and he was sitting outside The Black Rose.

It had been gnawing at him for weeks, and it was at long last the time to close the chapter on Nadia. It was a necessity to keep his flame with Krista kindled without interruption. It would break the young girl's heart, but it had to be done. The tie needed to be severed.

He thought it inconsiderate to drop a bomb like this on her directly at the tail end of a shift, but he hoped at the very least that Nadia would be understanding of his decision. Connecting with the rational part of her was likely going to be anything but a straightforward task, and he was braced for a meltdown.

As a vulnerable and impressionable young woman barely entering her twentieth year of life, she'd abandoned Belgium for Paris in search of the fairytale love that she had dreamt of. Nadia yearned for the feeling of something warm and tingly rushing through her veins. She was desperate for a man's affection, and she clung to the first man that showed her just that. Hans had been kind and respectful to her, always tipping her generously for her time. She was endlessly fascinated by him immediately. She had hearts in her eyes, and swore up and down she was hopelessly in love.

Nadia was enraptured by him. She hung on his every word, but misinterpreted most along the way. She'd gaze at him with childlike wonder and giggle if his hand would brush over her leg as she perched herself across his lap. It was always so difficult for her to keep her giddiness in check when he talked to her, even if after telling her that the love for him she was feeling was illusory.

She was a sweet girl, of course, but not the girl for him.

Their relationship was… well… I guess you could say 'professional', and it was never intended to be anything beyond that. When Nadia caught wind of Hans being seen in public with another woman, she was sickened with jealousy. She felt sick to her stomach, and she wanted to throw up. 'He can't be with another girl… He loves me…' she had said to herself through tear distorted eyes.

She had taken one step too far when she blatantly told him that she wanted to marry him. She was much too young for him, and he had expressed that more than once. On multiple occasions, he had said that marriage wasn't in the cards for him. She argued every single time, and wound up storming off in a tizzy. Regardless of how many times she said she wished to never see him again, she knew deep down she wanted to see him every waking moment of the day. She'd always say 'it was only envy speaking'.

Hans sighed and rolled his neck before finally getting out of the car as customers began filing out of the club. Leaning against the passenger door, he checked his watch impatiently. He wanted this ordeal to come to a conclusion relatively quickly, as to not miss the opportunity to escort Krista from Red's to The Saint James.

The second he laid eyes on her, he sighed again.

"Hans!" She cried, hurrying over to him in a slow run. "I haven't seen you in so long!" She threw her arms around him, burying her face into his chest.

He pried her arms off of him, and placed them gently at her sides. "Nadia, please…"

"What? I missed you," she pouted, sticking out her bottom lip.

The puppy dog face had yet to work on him. "Nadia, could you get in the car, please?"

"Okay," she said, smiling weakly as he moved to open the passenger door for her. She slipped inside, drawing her purse to her lap as she watched him through the windshield. "Where are we going?" She asked curiously once he was also seated.

He leaned back in the seat, staring aimlessly out the windshield for a moment. "We're not going anywhere." He turned to her, taking note of confused look in her eyes. "I'm only here tonight because we need to have a conversation that is well overdue."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm so very sorry, Nadia…" he began, squeezing the bridge of his nose as his eyes closed. "I can't continue to spend time with you."

Silent anger filled her. "But… I thought you loved me."

"I've told you before that you misunderstand me when I say that I care about you. That isn't love, my dear," he tried.

The tears had commenced. "But Hans… I love you… I don't want you to be with anyone else." There was a tremble in her voice as she closed her hands tightly together in her lap.

This would sting… "Nadia, I'm in love with Krista." Hans tensed, in case he earned a hand across the face.

She did nothing of the sort. She ceased her sobbing, the tears rolling down her flushed cheeks. Nadia fell silent, but she wanted to scream. Sinking back into the seat, she crossed her arms over her chest disapprovingly.

When she still said nothing, Hans shifted to face forward again. The breathable oxygen was being choked out by a noxious silence. "You never loved me because I'm too young… and because I'll never be as perfect as her."

He shook his head. "There's no need to be ashamed of your innocence," he said in a halfhearted soothing tone.

"I'm not!" She snapped.

Then silence for an uninterrupted minute.

Hans swallowed down his anger in response to the bitterness in Nadia's voice in reference to Krista and kept his cool. It still surprised him how instinctively protective he was of that woman. "This is likely going to be difficult for you to hear, but time was always a measurement in this… relationship… It just finally ran out."

Nadia blinked her tears away until her vision was clear, and sniffed. "I knew I wouldn't be good enough for you." Her voice was void of emotion as her shaking fingers closed around the lever of the door and pulled it toward herself. The latch released, and she let herself out. "I'm sorry, Hans."

"Nadia-" he tried, but she already slammed the door behind her and disappeared out of sight.

He sat back to regain his bearings, another deep sigh passing through his lips. He truly wished only the best for Nadia. He hoped that she'd eventually catch the love and affection she was tirelessly chasing after.

9:25 PM (Red's Showgirls)

Her tip out was paid, her heels were off and stowed away, and she was checked out for the night.

In the mirror, she could see that her makeup was showing signs of wear and she could almost feel the refreshing soap and water on her face as soon as she was tucked away into her room. Krista tied her hair up into a loose bun, and adjusted her top. "Bonne nuit!" Krista called out as she shouldered her bag and tiredly made her way to the front of the club.

The sun slowly sank below the horizon, the indigos that it left behind breathtaking. The colors reflected off of the black Mercedes she wasn't expecting to be waiting for her. Her eyes lit up, a soft smile pulling at her lips. "Are you my lovely escort tonight?" She asked in German as she approached Hans.

"It would be my honor," he replied with a polite grin, meeting her half way to close the space between them.

Her arms curled around him briefly and she felt her body soften in his embrace. The first contact of their lips sent a familiar warmth to her skin, and not just because of the temperature outside. Krista allowed herself to get lost in a few blissful moments as their lips began to slide together painstakingly slow. The tangible world slipped away to the void until it was just the two of them.

Just the two of them… And Red. "Oh my god, will you get a room?!" Red teased as she walked past them with a lieutenant on her arm.

There was no point in trying to hide the amused grin on Krista's lips as she unwillingly pulled herself out of Hans's arms. "I'm going!" She called back jokingly, her eyes following her manager as she left the property. She turned back to Hans, placing one more kiss to his waiting lips. "How long have you been here? You should have come in and watched our last set."

He steered her toward the car, politely opening the passenger door for her. She slid inside, and he leaned into the door. He imagined Nadia sitting somewhere crying herself a river, and sighed heavily. "Gentlemen's clubs don't excite me like they used to. I don't need them anymore."

How precious. She'd turned a hoe into a housewife. "I never thought I'd hear you say that," she said with a triumphant grin.

"I never thought I'd fall in love with a dancer," he countered, matching her grin and closing the door lightly.

He started the car and allowed the engine to idle down as oil coursed through it before pulling off of the curb. "How was work?"

It was still so strange to have such domestic conversations with this man that she'd only met a short time ago. "It was a good night. I finally got my Bird of Paradise."

"I wish I could have been there to see it," he smiled genuinely. He was really going to hate to have to wreck this wonderful mood.

"Red got a picture," she said. "I'll have to show it to you." The bruises that mottled her skin as a result were dark purple and splotchy, but the pain was oh so worth it.

"I would definitely love that." He shifted smoothly into second gear and sighed quietly to himself. "I sincerely apologize for ruining your mood, but I'm afraid I have to leave for Berlin in the morning." She needed to take that well. He couldn't have two heartbreaks on his hands in one night.

When she didn't say anything, he glanced over to her briefly before returning to the road. "For how long?"

"Only a week. I'll be back in Paris before you even realize I'm gone."

They'd gone weeks apart, and it wasn't so bad. She'd survived. But with 660 miles between them, she'd be left alone and exposed. "Just do me a favor. Don't bring me anything back," she warned. "I can't be trusted with nice things," she added jokingly.

Her sense of humor never failed to get a rise out of him. He threw his hands up from the steering wheel in surrender for a moment. "I will do no such thing."

As he drove them further from the club, the streetlights blurred into the darkness behind them. She smiled as she felt his hand come to rest gently on her thigh, a gesture of comfort and security.

The Saint James peeked around the corner a short distance ahead. "Do you want to stay with me tonight?" She tried, gazing over at him with hopeful eyes.

He squeezed her thigh and shook his head sadly. "I wish I could, my love. I can assure you though, I will be with you the second I'm back in the city."

Krista sighed dramatically. "You better be." Krista placed her hand atop his and squeezed it before he pulled the car to the curb outside the hotel.

"Your destination, my lady."

Krista leaned across to the driver's side of the car and captured his lips briefly. "Thank you for being my escort," she said softly before offering him a more lingering kiss.

"You're welcome."

She gathered her things, and opened the door. "Oh wait!" She opened the door fully again, and dug her hand into her bag. Blindly, she rummaged through it until the sharp corner of a Polaroid pricked her finger. She pulled it out and leaned back into the car, sliding it into one of his breast pockets. "So you don't forget what I look like."

"How could I?" A hand slipped into her hair, and she threw a hand down on the seat to keep herself from quite literally falling into the car. A soft hum vibrated across her lips as he caught them gently. "Behave while I'm gone," he murmured with a chuckle and released her.

Krista withdrew herself from the car, and stood on the curb with one hand on the door. "I will."

He nodded. "Auf Wiedersehen," he told her with a dreamy voice.

"Auf Wiedersehen," she replied with a smile on her painted red lips.

She closed the door behind her and dipped before he even had a chance to say that he loved her. He sighed sadly to himself again.

Out came the photograph she had placed into his pocket before he even left the property. The lighting that the street lamps outside offered was not ideal, but it was all he needed. Motion blur aside, she looked like an angel in the photo. Her long hair grazed the floor while the silver sequins glistened against her skin. The spotlights above the stage highlighted her muscle tone in the most flattering way possible and he again couldn't believe how incredibly flexible she was. 'Bird of Paradise', she had said. But he didn't see it. She clung to the pole in an inverted split, but it didn't remind him of the plant or a bird.

He scanned over it again, his eyes trailing along her legs and to her perfectly pointed toes. He couldn't fathom how she was able to get herself into that position. It appeared to be ridiculously painful but equally impressive. He tucked the photo back into his pocket and headed for home to try to get some form of sleep.

The lamps disappeared behind him as he rounded a corner smoothly and journeyed to the edge of the city. That photo of Krista crept into his thinking space again. She was the embodiment of sex appeal, and she was the one that he'd get the privilege of returning to.

July 9th, 1943; Friday (Red's Showgirls)

She was still sore from the night before, but she had to throw that Bird of Paradise out there one more time before she gave it a rest for a few weeks.

The second execution of the shape felt easier and like less of a struggle thanks to muscle memory. She finally let out a breath she had been holding in after he was securely in position, and released her left leg out into a split. She squeezed her glutes to push her top leg down and elongate her legs. 'Fuck this hurts', she thought to herself before hooking her extended leg back to the pole. Another breath of relief as she slid back down to the stage floor with an accomplished smile.

She did a quick scan of the crowd and she landed on one man. The absolute last man she wanted to see on a Friday night.

There was not a single emotion on his face as he stared up at the stage with his arms crossed authoritatively over his chest. Shit.

"Everybody, Miss Nina!" Applause erupted as Krista looked out over the crowd again, and he was nowhere to be seen.

Red stopped Krista on her way back to the locker room with a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, when you get a chance, there's a guy in Eden for you."

The champagne room wasn't even finished yet. It was just a side project that she and Red had been working on during the day. "But…"

"I know it's not done yet. But he was adamant… And he paid for an hour."

Krista nodded. "Who is it?"

Red glanced around the club before leaning closer to Krista like she was telling a secret. "It's Kaltenbrunner. And he sounded pissed. So if anything goes wrong, call in Ruby for bottle service. It's supposed to be included anyway."

"Okay," Krista acknowledged before weaving through customers to the locker room.

Her dolled up reflection stared back at her nervously. Landa wasn't in the country… Worst case scenario, Kaltenbrunner didn't actually want a dance. Hans physically couldn't protect her now.

She refreshed her lipstick and combed through her hair to straighten it. With one last deep breath, she forced herself out of the locker room and down the VIP halls. Smack dab at the end of the hallway was a white painted door leading to an unfinished lounge. She turned the handle and stepped inside, closing the door behind her. "Obergruppenführer Kaltenbrunner," she began thickening her faux accent. "I'm afraid-"

She was interrupted before she could finish. "Cut the shit," he snapped in English. "I know you're not from Kiel. I know that you're American."

Her mouth felt drier than the Mojave.

"You do a terrible job at hiding it," he added, flopping down on the dusty couch that sat in front of a small stage with a tall centered pole that stretched to the ceiling.

Should she apologize? Should she just say that she was in the wrong and deal with the consequences? Her heart was beating so fast that she couldn't even think. "Sir-"

"Stop," he said, holding his hand up. "I've been thinking about you a lot."

Gross.

"I've been thinking about all the things I could do to you."

Gross.

"However, I've decided that I'm going to use you."

No thank you.

He chuckled darkly to himself at her unwillingness to contribute to the conversation. "You've put yourself in the ideal position for me to use you as an informant."

Krista sat herself down on the edge of the stage and her pounding heart eased slightly as her wave of panic subsided. "What do you want me to do?" She finally asked.

"It has come to my attention that this club is the origin of a ratline used to aid in the escape of Jewish girls from France. I need the names of the officers helping them do so." He held her eyes firmly.

He was out of his mind. "Dancers come and go as their situations change," she tried.

"While that may be true, it seems that more dancers are going." He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.

Krista shrugged, still trying to come up with any possible excuse to justify her stand. "Most girls just move to bigger clubs where there's a more diverse customer base."

He shook his head. "You're full of shit."

Krista refused to react even though her brain was telling her to punch this man in the throat.

"Allow me to rephrase my request. You will assist me in this. You will answer to me, and only me. Do you understand?"

She gritted her teeth. "And what if I say no?"

"I needn't remind you of your purpose in this city do I? You're in search of Obersturmführer Fischer, are you not?" He questioned.

"Yes," she answered simply, adjust her legs to get more comfortable.

"If you refuse, I'd hate to see what would happen to him," he said as he clasped his hands together.

Sitting before her could very well be the vessel of Lucifer himself. He wasn't a man full of empty threats, but she still didn't want betray one of the only friends she had made in the city. She also didn't want to put her own blood's safety in jeopardy. "I'd rather dance with death," she replied cheekily.

Kaltenbrunner sighed and flipped open his tunic to tug his Luger from its holster on his belt. He places it in his lap and glued his eyes to her.

Krista looked down into his lap, and felt her breathing become shaky. Was this the one time she had gone too far? It would take him less than five seconds to load a round into the chamber and send it straight through her heart. "That could be arranged." He leaned back into the couch, making a point to keep the pistol on display. "I could pull the trigger right now."

She glanced between the gun in his lap and his irritation filled eyes. "Fine. I'll help you." She finally replied once she could formulate words again. "But I want something in return."

He snorted in amusement and stood up, re-holstering his gun. "Stupid girl… You're in no position to be negotiating with me."

"Leave Hans alone," she said flatly.

That only made him shake his head. "It disgusts me that you have both tried to bargain for each other with me. He is a traitor. I can't look past something like that." He pulled out a stack of francs from his pants pocket, and held them up as he approached Krista. He closed the space between them and glared down at her. "You will check in with me every third day. And I expect you to give me something I can actually use. I know all of you devious little whores talk." He dropped the bills from his hand down to her feet, and gave Krista one last onceover before marching his way out of the champagne room.

She stared down at the scattered and crumpled bills on the floor for a moment before dropping her head into her hands. "Fuck me," she muttered. She slid from the stage and worked at gathering the bills that Kaltenbrunner had left there. At least he paid her for her time.

She stacked the bills neatly together and clicked her way back down the hallways to the locker room. The night was nearing its close, and the dancers made their way to the stage for their final set. Krista crammed her money bag into her locker and slammed it shut, her palm pressed to it as she took a few resetting breaths. Hans had only been gone for a day, and already things are going sideways.

This was going to be a long fucking week.

Author's Note: I'm writing this note on 04/18/2023 to wish this story a happy third birthday! I've spent a disgusting amount of time planning and outlining this story over the last three years, and I'm glad that there's still interest in it even though I took a ridiculously long hiatus.

Again, thank you all for reading!