agent [ reader x zussman ]

• viii •

"Zussman? What the hell are you doing here?" You ask, your voice laced with a cocktail of both disbelief and excitement. His face lights up, the corner of his mouth quirking up with that cheeky slyness that was seen a few weeks prior.

"Why, I'm here to pick up my lovely wife, Miss Rita Weiss." He jokes in fluent German, taking your hand in his and lifting your fingers to his mouth, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your hand. You pull your hand back and look up at Zussman.

"Private Zussman here was the only person within range that fit the description your people were looking for." Davis explains, heading to the table and picking up the identification card. Holding it next to Zussman's face, the similarities were very clear.

The same crooked smile, the same gentle eyes. The image had been slightly worn so that the more obvious discrepancies could be masked, like a small scar on the original person's nose. At a quick glance, someone unfamiliar with the man's face would be hard pressed to find an obvious difference.

Davis shows you the information left for you from the S.O.E and decides to leave you with your new 'husband' to debrief him.

Zussman takes the hat off and lodges it on the table next to the jacket, the chest adorned with metals and patches. Unbuttoning the top button on the shirt beneath the jacket, he snuffs out the cigarette he had previously been smoking and turns back to you, clearly amused with your shocked expression.

"So," he begins, that same smile playing on his lips. "You seem quite shocked to see me here." He chuckles, leaning against the table. "I gotta say, I'm pretty good at this acting stuff. Maybe I should pack up and move to New York to be on broadway."

You sigh and shake your head, trying to suppress the laugh threatening to spill through your lips. "Seriously. Zussman, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be out with the others on the frontline instead of playing spy here with me?" You ask. Zussman's face falls slightly, the corners of his mouth drooping.

"Look... I was going to write you..." He speaks softly, dropping his gaze from yours.

"Are they alright? What happened?" You quickly question, placing a hand on his shoulder. Had something happened to them?

"It just happened so fast..." He continues, his usually charismatic voice even softer. You feel your jaw clench in fear as Zussman looks towards the ground, shielding his face from your view.

"Zussman?" You pry, attempting to get more information out of him. Your heart pounds with anticipation, your breath beginning to labour in your chest. Then, under your touch, you feel his shoulders begin to shake. Only slightly, just barely enough for you to feel. Was he crying?

Before you have a chance to ask once again, Zussman lifts his head and his face is lit up with his usual grin and daring eyes.

"I told you I was good at acting." He teases. You drop your hand and look at your friend in total disbelief. Once your brain registered what he did, you wind up and punch him in the arm. He jumps slightly, though the pain is clearly masked by his laughing.

"Zussman! That wasn't funny, you scared me half to death!" You exclaim, running your hands through your hair in shock. "Bloody Americans." You sigh, a small smile forming.

You were inclined to agree with him, though. He is quite the excellent actor, though you are mildly disappointed in yourself in not seeing through his clever grade. Zussman stands up from his previous position leaning against the table and runs his hand over the spot of your punch's impact on his arm. He compliments your hook before justifying himself.

"There isn't much we can do right now on the frontline. Without intel, we're marching blindly right into the bayonets of the Krauts. When I heard that you needed help getting that intel, and that I fit the match, I decided to volunteer." Zussman explains. "Besides, you've seen our side of the fight. Now I get to see yours."