**I do no own any of Tarantino's fantastic characters, and I hope he doesn't begrudge me, my poor imitation of their genius. Bon Appetit!**

The gravel crunches beneath two-heavily booted feet as "The Jew Hunter" steps down from the car and toward the marble stairs of the brightly lit mansion.. He adjusts the cuffs of his ceremonial uniform, unnecessarily checking his impeccable appearance. Another party, another night of fake congratulations and simpering smiles. Still, he does enjoy a good glass of champagne and this is Karl Schultz's house, so the music at least is bound to be bearable.

He leaves the cool fog behind him as he crosses the thresh-hold of the cheerful foyer.

"Hans! Hans my boy! Get your talented ass over here! Jetzt!" Karl's booming voice cuts through the din and music, alerting all of Berlin of The Jew Hunter's arrival. The Colonel obliges and shakes the hand of the SS-und-Polizeiführer, who is already red-faced from schnapps.

"Vielen Dank, Karl! Once again, you have out done yourself. Guten Abend, Elfriede," the Colonel gives his colleague a nod and kisses Karl's wife's hand.

"It's nothing m'boy! You never get the praise you deserve!" Karl dismisses loudly, craning his neck in apparent search of someone. "Elfriede, where is that wretched daughter of ours? I wanted her to meet Landa…"

"Out on the balcony, I think," she retorts, blushing at her husband's obvious intoxication.

"Never mind then. Landa first you must have a glass of champagne, then you will have your pick of Berlin's finest beauties for a dance partner!"

"The champagne, I will accept. The dancing will have to wait, I'm afraid." Landa replies.

"Nonsense, you are Berlin's most eligible bachelor and you need a woman to smooth those worry-lines from your handsome forehead!" Karl hiccups slapping the Colonel on the back.

"Bachelor, indeed! Are wizened old men counting as bachelors now?" Landa chuckles, "Thank you for the party, Karl. I'm off to the find the champagne. Greet your guests-"

"They are your guests, m'boy. This is your night." Karl interrupts. "We will let you sneak away for now, but you will leave my house with a girl on your arm or I shall host a ball in your honor every night till you do!"

They salute each other. Landa slinks off to the shadows grabbing a flute of champagne as he goes. He scans the large circular room out of habit, and sees only jolly officers and beautiful women. Nothing terribly interesting here, he muses swirling the magnificent champagne over his tongue. He notices several women eyeing him anxiously yet appreciatively, and kicks himself for not picking a better hiding spot. He nods politely, and glides gracefully across the dance floor toward the gang of women. Instead of stopping, however he brushes past them, "Entschuldigung." and steps through the double doors into the crisp night air. The torch-lit balcony is large and virtually empty, save the young women leaning against the marble railing.

He swiftly makes his way over to the railing and sets his glass down. The woman turns to him in a whisper of cream silk, "No, I don't mind…go ahead and smoke that ridiculously large pipe…"

"Oh, Entschuldigung. Do you mind?" He gestures to the pipe he'd been lighting.

"I said I didn't," she laughs lightly. "Nervous are we, Herr…?"

"I'm not nervous." Landa says with cold simplicity and without offering his name. She believes him, and realizes she mistook annoyance for nervousness.

"Forgive me." Something about him made her uneasy, "Are you well acquainted with Colonel Landa?" She asks, eager for a change in topic.

"Only a little." Landa says mischieviously, glad to play a little game. "Are you?"

"I have only heard the stories…are they true?" she steals a sidelong glance at her companion, wishing she had paid attention to her father's explanation of rank by uniform decoration. She admires his lean muscular form and the endearing graying of his sideburns and temple.

"Hmm" he takes a drag, "In my experience tales about Colonel Landa tend to be true."

"Well, if that is so, I don't know why we bother to commend him…"

For a fleeting moment she thinks she sees a shadow cross his face, but it is gone as quickly as it came. A slow, dangerous smile spreads there, leaving handsome dimples in its wake. "Please, elaborate." A Champagne carrying waiter approaches them.

"I mean only that the man is famous for his "knack" of killing Jews. Hardly the most impressive skill…Thank you." She takes the glass of champagne the Jew Hunter offers her and watches the waiter disappear back into her father's house.

"Are you sympathetic to the Jewish cause?" he needles, noticing the delicate curve of her lips on the fragile champagne flute.

"Hah! Hardly. I just grow bored of hearing about it: the war. Whatever happened to art and literature? I would like to know if Colonel Landa has a single fiber of culture in his murderous body." She licks her lips and smiles at the amused expression on the soldier's face.

"Perhaps you should ask him…" the man whispers, his posture going rigid, causing shivers to ripple down her spine for reasons she knows not.

"I-I, um, I think I will. If he ever even shows up. How's that for a hero? My father hosts a ball in the Colonel's name, and the louse is late…" she stutters.

"Your father?"

"Yes. Oh, I'm sorry. I'm Eva, Eva Schultz." She extends her hand blushing.

Landa bends to her slender hand, and bestows a soft, yet lingering kiss on her smooth skin. "Mmm," a low noise from his throat makes her knees buckle, "Freut mich, Fraulein Schultz."

His strong form straightens and Eva struggles to remember what they had been talking about. The mysterious man, who still has not introduced himself, relieves her of the task, however…

"So, your father hosts a ball for this Colonel Landa, yet you can't stand the man even by reputation. Did you not mention this small grievance to your father?" He takes a swig of champagne.

"No. My father worships Landa. He thinks he is brilliant and is eager for us to meet. I did not want to disrespect him."

"A good thing, I hear Colonel Landa is a volatile man. If your father were to make your distaste known, Landa might consider you a threat to the Nazi agenda. He might hunt you down…" the man teases.

Eva laughs, admiring the little wrinkles that frame officer's eyes as he smiles. And, God, those dimples…"I had not thought of it that way. Not a problem though, not when I have you to protect me…" she says boldly.

"Do you dare flirt with a ranking officer, who is more than twice you age Fraulein Schultz?" The man's voice is cold and his smile is replaced by a penetrating glare.

Eva takes in a shaky breath, confused by his abrupt change in manner. "I, I'm-um, I only…"

The man continues to stare, his eyes seeming to penetrate every thought she ever had. Again, she shivers involuntarily but is unable to break away from his hypnotic and terrifying scrutiny.

"Haha! Do not worry, Eva..." The charmer is back in his eyes when he winks at her, and she giggles hysterically from relief. "Do not worry, my dear. I tease rough. Your secret is safe with me-"

"HANS! Hans Landa, you dog! You have met my dear daughter already??? Are you keeping Hans all to yourself Eva?" Karl Schultz shouts from the doorway, swaying where he stands.

"Hans Landa…?" Eva breathes, searching the Jew Hunter's face anxiously.

The man sinks into a low bow, his eyes playful. "At your service, Fraulein."

*The line "I tease rough" is taken directly from the film and does not belong to me. Please R&R. Landa is more menacing, I know, don't worry I'll get there. Christoph Waltz is hot, I know, don't worry...I'll get there too! This is my very first fic, so please-by all means, be constructive. But be gentle as well! Please review! Even if only to say one word!