I'm humoring myself by writing a bunch of short one-offs, tacked on to the end of the main story. These will depict AU scenarios, little tastes of what came after the main events, as well as 'what might have beens'. If anyone has any specific requests for what they're interested in seeing, by all means let me know. I'm having a ball writing these.

Schadenfreude

– In which Elsie introduces a father to his son –

"Albert. Can't say I'm fond of the name."

Hellstrom lit up a cigarette as he gazed down at the baby, the fingers of his free hand gently caressing the sleeping boy's cheek. "Albert Marigold…"

"Actually, it's Albert Donowitz."

Elsie smiled as the Nazi officer's face twisted with disgust. But as with most of his expressions, the transformation was subtle and delivered mostly from the eyes.

"Is he aware who the father is?"

"He thinks it's Hugo."

Hellstrom chuckled and leaned back in his chair, picking up his stein of beer. He took his hand away from his son for a moment, to pluck the cigarette from his lips and take a mouthful of the amber liquid.

"Oh yes, Hugo Stiglitz." He glanced back down at the baby. "I don't know. Doesn't look like a traitor to me."

The waiter arrived back with their meals, which the Major had kindly taken upon himself to order, prior to her arrival.

"Apple strudel?" the waiter asked, glancing from one patron to the other.

Hellstrom stared at Elsie, waiting for a response. When her eyes finally flicked over to him, failing to mask her hatred, he chuckled and directed, "Over here."

She looked down at the plate that was placed down in front of her. Salad. Just like last time. She picked up her coffee and took a sip, fighting the urge to throw it in his face. He didn't want to risk getting any on the baby.

"I suppose it would have been difficult to determine the father," he went on once they were alone again, "They did call you 'Die Juden Hure'."

He turned back to Albert, who had just begun to stir, waving Elsie off as she moved to attend to him. She watched him take the baby from his stroller, cigarette still dangling from his lips. He held him up and looked him over as if he were inspecting a uniform.

"No, not a trace of Jew in him. Blonde hair, blue eyes. The fuehrer would have been proud of this one."

He placed a kiss on Albert's forehead before setting him down on his knee, balancing him in the crook of his arm. He chuckled at Elsie's look of disgust.

"Donowitz," he thought aloud, reaching for his glass and taking another mouthful of beer, as if to wash the Jewish name from his mouth, "I almost would have preferred Stiglitz. At least the boy would have been raised by a German."

"You're right. Maybe I should hit your parents up for some advice. After all, they did such a wonderful job with you."

Hellstrom chuckled again before gazing down at the child on his lap.

"My son, raised by a Jew," he muttered, unable to believe the irony.

It was Elsie's turn to smile. "Yeah. Karma's a bitch."

Hellstrom's eyes flicked back up to meet hers, holding her gaze for a moment.

"Speaking of," she went on, "How did it feel when Hugo blew your balls off with his Walther?"

Without skipping a beat, the German Major replied, "I imagine much like it did when you found his bullet-riddled corpse at the bottom of the stairs."

Elsie's breath caught in her throat as she recalled the night she had lost the man she loved.

"But as you say," Hellstrom smirked, "'Karma's a bitch'."

Elsie sat in silence for a long time, reminiscing on the events of those fateful few months in France.

"Hey?"

She looked up at Donny, catching his concerned look.

"You okay?" he asked.

She looked over at little Albert, still asleep in his stroller, then at the empty seat across from her. Donny plonked himself back into it, returning from the bathroom. The food had been served while he was away. Elsie looked down at her burger and fries, Donny's recommendation, here at his favorite Boston eatery.

He watched her brow furrow as she tried to fight off whatever bad memories had decided to present themselves today. He picked up his bottle of beer and took a swig of it, affectionately resting one of his huge hands on the baby's head as he slept.

"You know, we've been through alotta of shit, Else. I've seen every damn side of you. But I swear there are times I still don't know what's going through that head of yours."

She gave a soft snort, took a sip of her coffee, and replied, "That would make two of us."