Time: 1800
James walked into the small, decrepit looking repair shop. There was a young man in the front of the store cleaning car parts.
"Entschuldigen Sie. Ich suche Ingrid Fischer." His German wasn't nearly as good as his Russian but it would have to do. The young boy pointed his thumb in the direction of the garage. There was a beat up Volkswagon resting upon raised metal slats. Looking down, James noticed a pair of legs in dirtied overalls.
"Ingrid Fischer, nehme ich an?" He asked, sliding the leather gloves off his hands and slapping them down on the messy desk to his left.
"I take it German isn't your best language." The woman spoke from underneath the vehicle.
"Am I really that bad?" James smirked. Ingrid slid out from underneath the car and looked at James for a moment before speaking.
"You're quite terrible actually." With that she slipped back under the car and continued working. James huffed, taking the time to observe the room a little more closely.
"You speak English very well, y'know." He commented, as he looked through the mess of papers on the desk.
"Do I now." Ingrid mumbled.
"May I ask how, a woman trapped in East Germany surrounded by Soviets was able to learn English so well?" James asked, just as he suspected Ingrid slid out from under the car, wiped her hands on her pants and stood up.
"I have my ways. Now, what can I do for you?" She finished wiping her hands with an oily rag as she stepped towards him.
"I need a place to stay. I'm going to be in the area for a short period of time. Know any good hotels?"
"You came to my shop to get a hotel reccomendation?"
"I figured a native of the area would know the best places to go. Am I wrong?" James stated. Ingrid glared at him before throwing the rag onto the shelves behind her that held all her tools.
"What's your business in East Berlin?" James was silent.
"What, you can't tell me why an American is doing business in a Soviet occupied territory?"
"You're very curious aren't you?"
"Only when I need to be." She replied.
"And I'm making you curious?" James wondered, raising his eyebrows.
"Very much so, Mister--
"Barnes. James Barnes." Ingrid nodded.
"Barnes." Ingrid sighed. "Well, since you won't tell me why you're here I might as well take you to the hotel."
"I can drive, just tell me-
"You can't get a car in this town, not without being screened." Ingrid interrupted, turning to pull the lever that lowered the Volkswagon. She grabbed the set of keys and removed the locks that held the car in place.
"I hope you don't mind, I have to stop by my apartment on the way." She said, as they both climbed into the car.
"What's at your apartment?"
"Wouldn't you like to know."
Ingrid revved the engine and pulled out of the garage and into the dark night.
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Translations:
Entschuldigen Sie. Ich suche Ingrid Fischer - Excuse me. I'm looking for Ingrid Fischer.
Ingrid Fischer, nehme ich an? - Ingrid Fischer, I assume?"
YOU ARE READING
1963 || BARNES
Fanfiction"And love is a stranger, who'll beckon you on Don't think of the danger, or the stranger is gone" A Russian spy and an American assassin. Caught in the turmoils of a separated Germany at the height of the Cold War. One is ordered to kill the other...
