Intermission II

Marie toyed with a lock of her golden hair. Joseph had put her in a trance. He spoke about things she didn't understand, but she didn't need to, he looked perfect. He used his hands to talk. His fingers were long and beautiful, she felt intrigued by his whole figure. If only he would stay the night...Michael seemed to understand what he was saying, and he discussed it with his younger guest. 

Joseph was as distracted by Marie as she by him. Her eyelashes and the small line that painted the top of her eyelid made her blue eyes pop out at him. She looked like the little girl he'd balanced on his knee as she'd told him her dream of being a pilot but at the same time she looked so different, all grown up. He wouldn't have laughed at her had she told him that now...her calm aura and mature smile convinced him that she'd be a wonderful pilot. 

Michael didn't notice any of their lovey-dovey staring, or the fact that she touched his shoulders when she served him a slice of apple pie for desert. He didn't suspect a thing when Joseph invited her to drink with them after dinner. Had he known what his long-time friend wanted to do with his baby girl and had he known that she'd consent to it he'd have kicked the rogue out of his house and lectured his daughter. But he didn't know, so he encouraged their drinking and even had them sit next to each other. 

"Und wie gehts dir Marie? (and how are you doing, Marie?)" He asked her with a flirtatious undertone. 

"I'm doing quite well, thank you. How about yourself?"

"Work takes up too much of my time...but who am I to complain, I picked the position!" 

"Where are you exactly?" She asked.

"I'm in Auschwitz. I'm the head of the camp." His words made her shudder, which he saw. He was surprised: had she heard about what really went on behind the dark fences of the KZ? "I make sure everything is well organized, I keep in contact with Berlin and once in a while I report to Hitler himself."

"That's a good job." Michael said, nodding in approval. 

"Auschwitz..." She said slowly. Werner was at Auschwitz too but she decided not to ask Joseph if he knew anyone called Werner. With more of a cosmic connection than coincidence; that second the Lagerführer realized that his Marie was also Werner's Marie. It had to be; Werner had gone somewhere in Poland for dinner and Michael had said something about her having spent Christmas at her grandfathers over the border. His eyes immediatlly scanned her pale neck for hickeys, but he found none, they would have long faded anyway. 

"And I assume you're at home helping Michael and Hans?" He asked. She just nodded her head. 

"Would you like more wine Papa, your glass is empty."

"I'm good, thank you." He answered. 

"I'll have some more," Joseph said pushed the wine glass towards her after drinking the last few sips. She smiled at him and filled it half-full. He thanked her; raised tht glass and made the obligatory toast to Hitler. 

The brighty starry sky of Marie's blue eyes clouded with doubt and dissatisfaction as her former lover toasted to the infamous dictator. The Lagerführer could sense her dislike for him; he gently set the glass back down on the table. Most of the time it really mattered to him if someone liked the Führer or not, but by Marie he couldn't care less.

"Hitler is a good man, the best thing that has happened to Germany in a long time."

"I think there are better men." Marie replied, cutting her father off. Michael gave her a cursed gaze. He hated it when his daughter disrespected him. "I think you've had more than enough wine, Marie." 

"I want to hear what she has to say," the Lagerführer said. He stared at her intensly, daring her to speak her mind. Michael let the Lagerführer do what he wanted without objection, perhaps it was the man's charisma or maybe his high position in the army. 

"I don't think Germany has to be restored to any kind of former glory, I don't think it has to be expanded at all. It's clear that the poles and the czechs and now, the russians, don't want to be under a german reign. Hitler is a foolish man who will lose the war, I'm sure of it."

"Marie!" Her father bellowed. His eyes sparked with anger. "Watch your mouth, Fräulein!"

"He asked me what I wanted to say. I'm allowed to say what I think." 

"You foolish girl. I'm sorry Joseph."

"Don't apologize for your daughters behaviour, she should apologize." He said noncholantly. Then he fixed his burning gaze onto her, he planned to look at her until she felt like prey; felt that the chase had begun now and wouldn't end until she lay under him in bed, submissive and naked. Marie's words caught in her throat, she didn't want to give in, not even to him. 

So she stood up with a swish of her dress. "Good night to the two of you." She said politely but with an annoyed undertone. She left, refusing to bring the tray into the kitchen. She would not apologize for talking down on Hitler, that was the last thing she would do! The Lagerführer watched her go. He missed her already and he was afraid he'd just pushed her off forever. 

"She'll grow out of it once she sees what an empire he builts. It won't take much longer, she's a smart girl, your Marie." He noticed, speaking highly of her to her surprised father. He'd been expecting the Lagerführer to want to call the Gestapo on his unruly daughter. 

"Yes she is...quite a handfull." 

"But more beautiful than any of the other girls in all of germany.." Joseph added wishfully. This time Michael caught up on his tone; he realized that his old-time friend was too, in love with his daughter, just like Kurt was. 

"How's the wife?" He asked, as stone cold as Marie had asked Kurt a few days before. The Lagerführer smiled weakly, he'd been put in his place. 

"She's a bit sick but it's just a cold..." He proceeded to tell Michael all about his wife and child and their slight cough, but his eyes were on the staircase, soon he would climb it and join Marie...you're bedroom or mine? He thought.