Zitternd : the act of playing a note with a trembling effect.

When she entered the room, she was surprised to find one officer already waiting for her. He was muscular, with a well defined jaw and a classic look. With just one glance, she knew he was German. Resisting the urge to turn around and walk out, Natasha sat down, nodding in thanks to the albino male. After a few moments, the albino went to stand beside the blonde and she realized they were both interviewing her. She forced a wide smile, smoothing down her dress in a calm manner.

"Hallo fraulein Hans," the blonde one greeted her, barely smiling as he did so. Barely a minute in the same room with these two males and she could already see the stark contrast they had to each other. The blonde was stern and uptight; professional. The other, however, was laid back and obnoxious. The grin on his face was an obvious indicator that he was not nearly as concerned about appearing put together.

"Hallo," she replied, again, keeping her charming smile plastered to her lips. It almost hurt to smile so much; considering she didn't do it often. Her eyes shifted between the two, keeping eye contact. Somehow, she had eased into the role. That didn't mean her heart had ceased its erratic beating, like hummingbirds wings.

"My name is Ludwig Beilschmidt. This," he paused to gesture to the male leaning against the wall behind him, "is my bruder Gilbert. You may call us Herr Beilschmidt if you have any questions. Now, we just have a few questions and then we will ask you to demonstrate your skills, please."

Now that she knew their names, she felt somewhat safer, as if they were more human to her. But, yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that one wrong move or word would send her whole world crashing down. "Ja, of course. Danke for the opportunity, Herr Beilschmidt," she replied, voice more confident than she thought possible.


Glancing down to examine his nails, Gilbert sniffed lightly, attention span already wandering from the girl in front of the two Germans. She seemed cookie cutter to him, no different from the other five ladies waiting to see if they could get the most coveted job in Germany. After all, who wouldn't want to be some part of the Reich? There was glory and honour that came with every job the Fuhrer demanded. It was just a matter of deciding who was worthy of taking it.

However, as he glanced back up to study her as she effortlessly answered his brothers questions, he thought perhaps he was wrong. There was something in her eyes that suggested she was entirely different from any woman he had met. Sure, he had met a lot of interesting women. But she... she was almost intriguing. As if she were a cobra, disguised as an innocent animal. However, he was sure he was over reacting... though he almost had the desire to hire her, simply to see if he was right. Push her limits.

Not many people knew about the Prussian's liking to mind games. How many women had he spent days, even weeks, attempting to get into their mind? He had lost count. Of course, he never fell for them. Personally, he was above relationships. They were a waste of time. But psychologically breaking someone... That was an investment he could deal with.


The interview had gone well, she assumed. The questions had been simple – where were you born, how long have you lived there, how many people you have been a secretary for... They were all normal. Normal enough to set her paranoia aside for the moment. In fact, she almost felt surprisingly comfortable sitting at the typewriter Ludwig had led her to. In a way, it sickened her; as if she were living a dream, or nightmare, where she had become one of them. But she couldn't help the rising feeling of disgust in her; it was too surreal.

But she pushed all thought from her mind as her fingers began to type furiously, listening to every word that the blonde was giving her. It seemed to be a simple letter that he was sending to a man named Himmler. "... Concerning this coming Saturday, I ask you have a new sector created, along with sharpening up the skills of-"

Ludwig kept talking but, however, she stopped typing. Her hands were hovering over the keys, shaking slightly. It seemed as if her brain had completely frozen, the absurdity of it all making her immobilized. For a moment, neither of the men seemed to notice the lack of loud clicks that echoed against the walls of the room. When they both did, however, she felt a chill run down her spine at their sudden silence. No one moved for a moment and she didn't dare to take a breath. Gilbert moved first, taking a few steps over to her, his boots loud against the floor. She could feel his presence looming over her before he laid a hand on her shoulder, leaning over to read what she had written.

Swallowing thickly, she resisted the urge to shake under his touch, instead, keeping her expression clear of any fear that might have slipped through. As he turned his head, so his lips were near her ear, she let her gaze flicker to the side, a chill running down her body. "Shall we try that again, Fraulein?" He questioned, voice barely above a whisper. He was close enough that she could feel his breath tickling the side of her face.

Taking a deep breath, she nodded vigorously, not trusting her voice to do her justice. Gilbert's smirk slowly spread into a grin and he pulled away, squeezing her shoulder in what she assumed was meant to be a supportive way. The action, however, only made her flinch.


As Gilbert watched the blonde leave, he smirked to himself. He had allowed himself the small indulgence of messing with her mind – a preview, so to say. A try before you buy. She had reacted well, he thought. Even with close proximity, she kept her cool. It urged the Prussian on, in a way. He wanted to know what would break her. Really get under that pale skin of hers...

With a small chuckle, he wandered over to the small table his brother had in his office, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. Taking a sip, he let it burn his throat as he turned to look curiously at the younger male sitting at his desk. "I'm glad you decided to hire her," he said absently, gently swirling the liquid around the small glass. "She seems competent."

Ludwig barely acknowledged that he was being spoken to and simply nodded, making a small noise of approval as he continued to work. Rolling his eyes, Gilbert downed the rest of his drink, deciding he was not in the mood to bother his brother any longer. Besides, he had a new project to attend to. One by the name of Giselle Hans.