Hans Landa

1939

He glanced at the woman in front of him with mild interest. She was nothing spectacular, with an average resume and an even blander personality.

But there was some thing…enticing about her. Something slightly off, something subtle he couldn't put his finger on.

"Very well, Fraulein Lefevre, that's a French name, is it not?" Hans gave her a pointed look that she met with almost a daring boldness.

"It is."

"I was originally going to go with a German housekeeper," He gave a mocking shrug, as he gestured at her with an open hand, "but I suppose you will do."

The woman didn't seem put off by his dismissal of her abilities; in fact, he could almost detect a hint of a smirk twitching in her lips. "Merci, Colonel."

And thus 'Cordelia Lefevre' came to work for him.

-

Hans watched her from his desk, not bothering to hide his stare. If she was aware of it, she didn't protest.

The ledger in front of him fell open to the desired page, and absentmindedly he jotted down; corset, under her name.

It was hardly noticeable, nothing more than he would expect from the reclusive maid, a thin line above her bust. But the idea of the garment itself seemed out of place of the woman's lanky frame. Quirking a brow, he watched her go about her business, polishing furniture in the room across from his office with a determined gusto that pleased him more than it reasonably should have.

She was aware of it to, and she made it a point not to slow her actions and to keep her back to him. Those cold blue eyes were studying her like a rat trapped in a cage; which in a morbid way she was, if German propaganda was true.

He had to know. He had to. Leah wiped down a vase with a damp rag as she strived to keep her breath even. The Jew Hunter would know if a Jew was loitering in his den.

But he didn't, at least, not yet anyway.

1941

Livid. Absolutely livid, well, that's what she expected, but that's not what she got.

"Stop fussing over it, Fraulein," He put his hand on her back, tracing the line of her corset subtly, "it was an accident."

She continued to pick up the remnants of the glass with heated precision, "I should have been more careful."

"Fraulein Lefevre." His fingers drifted up the grey material of her uniform and she froze as he brushed them against her neck, "if you would just calm down we could get this over with much less…tension." Landa's thumb slipped under the cloth, rubbing her collarbone with sinful intention.

A shudder went through her, and she prayed he mistook it for lust rather than revulsion.

He took it as neither, and removed his hand from her. "It wasn't my motative to frighten you, simply an attempt at comfort."

Hans met her eyes, refusing to drop her stare as her dark brown eyes sparkled with something. Fear? Malice? Perhaps a tad of both. But it was obvious he had overstepped his boundaries as an employer.

"Tell me, Fraulein Lefevre, you've been in my services, how long?"

"Almost three years, Colonel," Her reply was stiff, her voice rich-always richer than he expected from such a quiet woman- as she went back to placing the shards of glass in her apron.

"Thirty two months, actually."

Anal retentive bastard, Leah thought, her fingers shaking around a particularly long piece of jagged glass. It'd be so easy, one quick sharp jab to the-

"And in all this time you have yet to tell me a single personal thing about yourself." Hans blinked down at her, his face a calculating shield of curiosity.

Those dark brown eyes bore into his with little regard for social standings, "what would you like to know?"

"Where were you born?"

"Nantes."

"Really?" He smirked, "You're accent hints to more of a Northern upbringing."

It was her turn to smirk as she tilted her head, eyes glittering, "you asked me where I was born, Colonel, not where I was raised."

"I suppose you're right," He said, not particularly enjoying the way she had twisted his words. Landa fought the urge to make her eat her them. Throwing her up against his desk and fucking her until that infernal braid became loose would do the trick.

But that wouldn't be very gentlemanly. Besides, there was work to be done.

"We'll have to continue this conversation another day, Fraulein Lefevre," He glanced at his wrist watch, "I'm afraid I have a meeting to attend."

"Of course, sir."

-

This had to be wrong. Some mistake made by the silly baker in an attempt to get himself out of a more severe punishment.

But there is was, scribbled almost illegibly, but crystal clear to the German superior.

Under aliases to the right, Cordelia Lefevre. His blue eyes darted to the left.

Leah Shaye. Hebrew, if he was correct.

That filthy little liar, Hans almost grinned. This would require a serious punishment.

-

"Something I can help you with, sir?"

He shook his head nonchalantly, "no, continue with your task, Cordelia."

Quirking a brow, she went back to dusting his bookshelf. She ignored him when he came up behind her, just uncomfortably close enough to pause her hand.

"So, Cordelia, ready to finish that conversation we had earlier?"

"Yes, sir." She resumed her dusting, ignoring the lewd warmth as his breathe hit her neck. She may have hated the man, but that didn't mean she was impassive to his physical attractiveness. It would've made her life all too simple if she was.

Landa moved a little closer to her, raising his fingers to stroke the bottom of her long, dark braid. "Tell me, is Cordelia a family name? Is that why you chose it?"

"Chose it?" The woman echoed, her tone a line of apathetic calm. "One doesn't choose their own name."

"People in hiding do. Desperate people." He looped the braid around his palm, "you covered your tracks quite well, Fraulein Shaye. Too bad the man you bought your identity from didn't have an ounce of loyalty in him. I may never have caught you if it weren't for that silly baker."

"I don't know what you're talking about, sir."

"You wish to play naive? Very well." Hans pulled the offending woven strands, tightening his grip as he forced her hips into the wooden shelf. He ground into her, "You've been deceiving me."

"No-" She ground her teeth. This wasn't happening.

"Don't lie to me, Leah, it's unbecoming for a lady to lie. Even if it is a filthy Jewish one."

Not sure what he had been expecting, Landa knew it certainly wasn't a snicker.

"Find something amusing in all over this, do you?" Her hips stung as he hovered over her, the duster in her hand becoming locked in a vice grip as he went on, "how easily I was fooled perhaps?"

"No."

"Than what?" One of his hands snaked up her arm, and he jerked her shoulder back. Hans eyed the pale skin of her neck with a smirk, "tell me."

"Funny, you should be so intent to touch-" She gasped as Landa nipped her earlobe, "me after pointing out how filthy I am, Hans."

Leah spat his name out, annoyed with her inability to move. Annoyed with herself for not wanting to.

"I like to get a feel for impurities before I cleanse them." He tightened his grip on her hair, "you know what they do when women deceive men in Italy? When they disgrace themselves?"
She said nothing, wincing as she heard a familiar sound. He was getting his knife out.

Her jaw clenched as he brought it up to her neck. It lingered there a moment as he spoke, low in her ear. "You could've killed me at any time." He pressed the knife against her carotid artery, but curiosity was a powerful thing. At least in Landa's case, "why didn't you?"

Leah closed her eyes, regaining her composure as she spoke. In monotone, as always, "would've roused suspicion."

"Suspicion?" A tiniest bit more pressure, and she swallowed.

"A high ranking officer dies," she muttered, ignoring the feeling of his hand as it drew her head back, "they're bound to look into it."

"Are you saying it had nothing to do with your ethical standpoint?" He smirked, "maybe even feelings for me?"

"The only feeling I have for you is disgust, Hans, that I can assure you."

Her head was forced back on his shoulder and she could feel him chuckle before the sound itself registered. "So it was simple cowardice that keep my life in tact?"

"I like to think of it as self preservation." Leah gasped as she felt the knife lower. His hand braced her shoulder, still clutching the blade, turning her to face the bookcase completely.

"If I were to let you go…"

He thumbed the braid a moment before raising the knife to it. The woman jerked forward as he slice through her thick hair, tugging painfully at her scalp. Soon enough it was over, and he ruffled her remaining locks almost tenderly as he spoke. "Would you hesitate to kill me?"

"No." She closed her eyes, trying to get the pain at the base of her neck to calm, "not for a moment."

Hans smirked at her serious tone, knowing this game all too well. "You suppose your honesty is going to invoke some leniency on my part," He turned her to face him with surprising, and frustrating, easiness. Almost gently. Almost, "but it won't. In fact it makes me all the more anxious to let you out of my sight, Fraulein Shaye."

"But that doesn't mean I have any intention of getting rid of you so soon, Leah."

The man turned her to face him, taking the duster from her tight grasp. He tossed to the floor with arrogant flare as she glared up at him. "Not while there's so much fun to be had."

Brown eyes fixed on him with an almost predatory gaze; much like the one Landa was giving her. "What are you going to do to me?" She asked, weighing her options. He was bigger than her. Stronger.

At least if the grip on her wrist was any indication.

The German took in her appearance, tilting his head slightly to the side. She was about his height, maybe a centimeter or two shorter. Pale skin, smooth and white as the sweetest buttermilk. Ignoring the urge to touch it, or ravish it, he smirked.

What was he going to do to her?

"Well, we'll just have to wait and see," Hans licked his lips as he leered down at her, "now, tell me, Leah, how long have you been wearing a corset?" A red stain came over her cheeks, electing a chuckle from him as he took in her surprised features. "You aren't as good at hiding as you think you are," He muttered taking her narrow hips in his hands, he held them still as she bucked away, "now answer the question."

His blue eyes clamped shut as she spit in his face.

"Fuck you, sir." She growled, jerking in his hold.

"Unwise, Shaye." He wiped it away with the back of his hand, easily keeping her pinned singlehandedly, "very unwise."

-

There was only one room in the house Leah had never been in. the man had claimed it was due to privacy, it was his bedroom after all, and she'd obliged his wishes. No matter how tempted she had been to sneak in there and smother him with a pillow.

It was a large room with two long vertical windows covered by silk curtains and a bed that took up a large portion of the room. Though, she was too preoccupied with being handcuffed to really take in the décor.

Her shoulders twitched uncomfortably as he tightened them.

"Comfy?" Hans' tone was sadistically playful, and Leah kept quiet. Knowing there was really no point in fighting it, in screaming and fleeing because with a snap of his fingers, he could have a brigade of Nazis.

And she'd rather deal with one sociopath than several.

One charming, frustrating, slightly flamboyant, overly imagainative-

"Am I boring you Fraulein Shaye?" Landa's eyes glittered with impassive annoyance.

"Of course not, Hans." Her tone was equally as teasing, a familiar edge to it, "I could listen to you drone on all day long."

"If you're listening so intently, why aren't you on your knees, Leah?"

The Jewish woman's eyes widened as she bared her teeth, a feral expression that amused him. Inwardly, of course. "If you think you're getting your cock sucked by me, I'll have you know I'll bite it off."

"If I wanted my cock sucked, I'll have someone properly equipped do it," He eyed her lips, full and pink pushed back against white teeth, "not some ill-bred maid."

Leah sensed the challenge, but ignored it, and the feeling of inquiring eroticism it stirred in her stomach. "Than why-"

"Just do it, girl." Why did ever little task have to be a challenge? He wondered, blinking apathetically.

She sighed, twisting her chained wrists behind her, and complied.

When nothing happened, the man didn't so much as rise from his seat, she raised a brow.

After twenty minutes it became apparent why. Why he had chose this punishment, why he had that devious smirk on his face.

Her legs were on fire. What had been an agitating tickle in her knees had blossomed into a heat of numbness and pain. But to make matters worse he hadn't torn his eyes from hers for a second. Not a glance at the clock, a shifting gaze at the paper work in front of him. Nothing.

It made her stomach churn but she didn't break her stare.

-

That is, until she started falling asleep, some hours later.

Leah's knees were still firmly indented in the carpet. Her eyes fluttering closed as she leaned against the bed for support.

Satisfied, Hans chose this move to stand. Undoing his jacket, he draped it over the back of his chair, never taking his gaze from her. He rolled the sleeves of his white dress shirt up, quietly crossing the room to stand behind her. She looked so much less…threatening with her short hair.

He'd expected her to cry when he had cut it, but was pleasantly surprised when she didn't. He liked a strong woman. They were so much fun to break.

He pushed some of her dark hair away from her neck. The soft tousles slipped through his fingers easily. Gripping them tightly, he pushed her forward, onto the floor.

A screech filled the room as Leah woke, blood rushing back into her legs causing almost unbearable pain as he straddled her back. "Get the hell off me!"

"Oh, now you wish to fight, darling? Well, I'm not in the mood," He dropped his weight down on her, listening with a smirk as the air was forced out of her lungs. Gasping feverishly, the young woman tried desperately not to panic as her legs throbbed. His hands raked over her back, and the knife was out again.

A quick slice was heard, and she felt the material of her uniform fall away from her sides. A moment past as she caught her breathe, and he eased slightly.

"Hm." The corset went over her bust. Hans tilted his head, why would a woman want to conceal her curves? He asked her and she mumbled her answer into the carpet.
"What was that?"

Leah heard her ankles crack as she tried to bend the pain from them, "I don't like being harassed by lecherous old men."
Landa moved again, this time to rest on her upper thighs. He pulled one of the bottom strings experimentally. "Does it work?"

"Obviously not."

Ignoring the rib, he quickly went about his task. Her arms often got in the way, awkwardly obscuring his view of the strings, but it was the upper ones that he wanted at the most. And the most accessible. Luckily for him.

She bit back a whimper as her breasts were forced back against her chest. It seemed just when she had gotten her breathe back, it was taken from her.

-

Days past, and Leah found herself aching for fresh air. Or any air for that matter. Her breathing had been reduced to shallow gasps as Hans tightened her corset, over and over, never loosening it. Her back was against the wall, literally and figuratively, and she briefly wondered what it would take to get away from it.

Or at the very least some fresh air.

Blue eyes stared back at her as she uncrossed and crossed her legs repetitively.

It was quite distracting. She had rather nice legs. He considered dropping his gaze to them, but didn't want to show interest. At least not until he gauged how desperate she was.

"Tell me, Leah." He smirked at her, "do you wish to be let go?"

"On what conditions?" Her voice was closer to a croak, her eyes heavy from lack of sleep and water.

The smirk widened, "what would you be willing to give?"

"For my freedom?"

"What freedom?" Hans said, a bit condescending, "Where do you have to go? You're safer in here with me. As odd and unbelieving as that may sound."

Dark brown eyes shifted to the ceiling, "what do you want?"

"Offer me something."

Oh, so it was a game he wanted? She smirked, uncrossing her legs again. "Well, I suppose there's nothing I can really give," She crossed them.

His jaw clenched, subtly, of course. "Don't fight me and I'll let you go."

"My hands to?"

"If you earn them."

A tense air settled over the pair.

"Fine."

His smirk widened as he lit a cigarette. "Get on your stomach."

Doing as she was told, Leah ignored the tiny voice in the back of her mind that chastised her for going along with this. For caving. For wanting it.

"Did you know, the ultimate sign of submissive behavior is to lie on your stomach?" He straddled her back again, but didn't move to relieve the straps, "it's considered so because it leaves one completely helpless." His hands gripped her short locks, "even if you wanted to, you couldn't defend yourself."

She closed her eyes, "I didn't know a lecture was involved in our agreement, Hans."

"Just making conversation, Leah; so impatient." He teased, smiling, though she couldn't see him. "You have such lovely skin you know," a heat drifted over a patch of bare flesh on her shoulder, "I could use you as an ashtray, scar that beautiful skin." It shifted, and he burned the first lace of her corset open, then the second. She sucked in a greedy breath, wincing at how close the cigarette was to her skin.

"If I did," He went on, slowly burning a hole through the middle of each black string, "would you indulge me than?"

She asked, "Indulge you?"

"Playing naive again, I see." He tugged her wrists, red and raw from the cuffs, electing a wince from her. "How far are you willing to let me go for a chance to breathe, Leah?" He sat her up, leaning her against the wall between his bed and his night stand. Like a doll. Hans moved closer, pulling the material down off her chest. A dark fuchsia band outline where it had covered her, surely cutting off her circulation. He trailed a cool finger over it, enjoying her shudder; he traced it down to her left nipple. The pale skin was tainted pink from the corset, and he palmed it a moment.

Leah watched with stoic eyes as Hans straddled her waist, hovering over her with little respect for personal space.

Her stare was troubling, too passive. He smirked as tweaked her nipple unexpectedly. A shocked gasp came from the woman as she tried to jerk away from him.

He could change that. Cupping her neck roughly he dropped his lips to it, feverishly biting and sucking the flesh that lay there. She hips bucked involuntarily as she pushed against the wall, her hands stinging in the process.

Leah's head rolled back as he kneaded her breasts, his mouth moving downward to nip and toy with her chest as she tried to block it out.

This shouldn't have been gratifying. It should've been degrading and shameful and-

She moaned as he bit the underside of her tit, a harsh, mellow pain radiating from it, but it didn't seem to affect him as he moved to the other. Mimicking the action he sank his teeth deep into her soft flesh, reveling in the sounds that came from the young woman as an identical bruise lay there. Just as on the other.

"You like that?" He cooed, teasing as she whimpered; his hand going downward to a pair of cotton panties as the other continued to pinch and teased her nipples. "You were so against it before…"

Staying silent she drew her legs closed as he tried to pull the material down.

"Now, Leah, I would sincerely hope you are not trying to back out of our agreement?" His voice was warm in her ear, and she focused on it rather than his hands.

"I want another condition."

"And I want to taste you, so if we could just end this foolishness…" His tone walked the razor's edge as he bit down on her collar bone.

Biting back a shriek of pain, at least she told herself it was pain, she murmured, "And I want a bath."

"A bath?"

"That's what I said."

Hans chuckled, a dry, surprising sound that caught her off guard. "Very well, I suppose I could give you a bath."

"I'm not a child I can do it myself."

"You must think I'm an idiot if you think I'd leave you to run about unattended." He hauled her up, pulling the material, underwear or otherwise from her lanky frame. "And here I thought we had some mutual respect."

Respect? When had he been respecting her? When he pinned her down or when he wouldn't leave the room as she went to the washroom?

A familiar clink was heard as he transferred one of her cuffs to his wrist.

-

The German glared at her. "Stop that."

"Stop what?" She asked, shaking her head, ignoring the water that spilled onto the floor.

"Splashing, or I'll make you clean it up."

That didn't seem like much of a threat and she lifted a brow at him. She'd cleaned this bathroom plenty of times.

"And you'll do it naked." Hans smirked, "I can just see it now, you on your hands and knees, that little ass in the air…" She was blushing, though she wasn't quite sure why, and he went on, "I'd fuck you like a dog before you were done."

"You're fucked." She spat, glaring at him as she fought down the swell of lust that over came her at his words.

Fingers spun around her knee, as he brushed the wash clothe up her thigh, "why the flush, Leah?" his eyes glittered suggestively as he brushed her slit, "I'm sure you'd make a more than eager bitch."

Crossing her legs, she encased his hand there as she spoke, "I'm eager?"

He leaned over to her, ignoring the water as it stained his shirt. "More so than you realize, Leah."

"Stop calling me that."

"It's your name," He smirked for the utmost time, "and I rather like the way it sounds," His lips were inches from hers, "and I rather like the way it tastes on my tongue as well, Leah."

He almost drowned her when she splashed him. His hands coming down on her shoulders as he wretched his hand from her womanhood. Her face disappeared under the water and he held her there. She struggled a moment before pausing, knowing what he wanted.

Submission.

He liked that. Pulling her up, he kissed her.

-

Manipulation was a crazy thing. Difficult to grasp, and tell who is the pawn and who is the king. But it fun.

Her leg hooked around his neck as he pushed tongue into her, she was sweet. Warm. Distracting and maddening, just like he knew she would be. The cuff around his wrist ached, and he jerked it down, ignoring the yelp from Leah as he did so.

Her wrist was much more worn than his; he eyed it out of the corner of his vision as he continued to taste her, inhaling as much of her scent as he can.

She wove her fingers through her hair as she thought of the track she was on. She did not want to stay chained up in some Nazi's bedroom like some cheap-

Gasping, her eyes snapped closed as his teeth grazed her clit, and eagerly her hands raked through his hair.

Wait- hands?

Her brown eyes flew open as she ran them down his neck, his shoulders. She tightened them around his hair, and bucked her hips up to meet his mouth. Hans paused, and she remembered herself. Putting her ass back on the ground, she took a deep breathe as he moved up her stomach. The carpet was rough, tickling her back unpleasantly, but she didn't complain.

"Remember what I said?"
"Don't bite me or I'll slit your throat?"
"No," He smirked, "though I'm glad you remembered that." He hovered over her mouth, licking her taste from his lips. Her fingers flexed in his dark blonde hair, "Good behavior is always rewarded."

"Hm." There was a harsh crash heard and Leah shoved him off of her as she ran for the door. Groaning, Hans rubbed his head, shocked and angered he stood. Grabbing the pistol from his night drawer he ran after her.

She was halfway down the stairs when a bullet tore through her chest.

He felt a twinge of sadness run through him. He'd just bought that carpet.

He slowly made his way down the stairs. Grabbing her bruised wrist he turned her over. Blood poured from the hole just above her left breast, and he sighed.

"We could've had a lot of fun together, Leah."

Dark brown eyes stared up at him, empty and hollow, but he knew that was a smirk on her lips.

A/N: THE END! This was the last chapter of 9 Crimes, and I hope you enjoyed it. I picked this couple to end on because I think their the 'grown-up' version of Hellstrom and Rachel. With a bit more angst of course. While we're on that, if you review, tell me who your favorite OC was and why(at least in this series), b.c as helpful as the poll on my site is, it doesn't say WHY and it should, but it doesn't.