Chanel lightly knocked on Zemo's door, and he appeared, his hair still wet from the shower. A puff of chest hair was visible underneath the robe he donned. Chanel had not expected this. She was amused as she appraised him. She briefly wondered what she might find under the rest of his robe but quickly refocused.
"Baron, I'm sorry to interrupt. Are you finding everything you need?"
"Please, there is no need to be so formal, dear. Come in." He opened the door wider to allow her entrance.
She sat on the edge of the bed as he disappeared into the bathroom to get dressed.
"Everything is splendid. What exactly does your ex do to afford such a lovely home?" Zemo asked from the bathroom.
"He sells things. Weapons, art, information, etc." Chanel responded matter of factly as if it was an ordinary profession.
Zemo returned, dressed in pressed tan pants and a white knit sweater. He looked almost harmless. He sat next to Chanel and tilted his head to the side, a slight grin playing at the corner of his lips, "so, not so sweet and innocent after all."
Chanel smiled coyly, "my line of work rarely requires sweet and innocent."
Zemo's smile widened, "that is good. Our mission will require ruthlessness. Are you ruthless, Chanel?"
Chanel thought about the recent missions she had been on. She had stopped at nothing to get what she needed. Once the line was crossed once, there was no going back.
Zemo watched the flicker of emotion on her face with pleasure.
Emotion, excellent; she may be even easier to manipulate than the other two.
Chanel pondered what her next move should be.
I need to get him to trust me. How much should I risk telling him, though? He's not like the men I've dealt with in the past; he'll smell a lie before I even tell it.
Chanel met his gaze, "I think ruthless would be a fair description. I won't insult your intelligence by lying to you, Zemo, but my friends don't know exactly how ruthless I have been, and I would prefer to keep it that way. I've done many things that I'm not proud of, things that keep me up at night. But I did them because they needed to be done, and if I had to, I would do them again."
Chanel was surprised at how freeing it felt to say the words out loud. As if a small weight had been lifted off her chest for the first time in a while.
Zemo was genuinely intrigued, "If you feel that way, why are you here with Sam and James?"
Chanel looked away from him, "I want to try and do things by the book for Sam. He's the only person in my life, and he asked for my help." She glanced at him to see how he reacted; he simply nodded in approval.
"Ruthless and loyal. You are a valuable ally to have. Your secret is safe with me, my dear."
"Thank you, I appreciate that."
God, I hope he means that. Why was telling him the truth so easy? And why did it feel so good?
Chanel was used to being undercover and manipulating men like Zemo. She knew how to play the role of femme fatale. But this was different. In the past, she had always played a character with a fake name, a fake life, a fake past. She had never been herself on one of these missions.
Is this what it's like for the men that spill their secrets to me? Being yourself. Being honest. And receiving no judgment, just understanding, and even appreciation.
"Speaking of my friends, they'll be ready for us downstairs soon. And I'm sure Manfred will have a special dinner prepared for you. I'll leave you to get some rest until then."
"Splendid."
Chanel placed her hand lightly on his and gave him a sweet smile, "I'm right across the hall. Please, don't hesitate to ask if you desire anything."
"Anything?"
Chanel nodded her head yes. "I aim to please." She squeezed his hand lightly before she sauntered out of the room.
Zemo smiled to himself as he laid back on the bed and pulled the notebook, he had stolen from James out of his pocket.
After flipping through the pages, he mulled over the information he had gathered from the chaotic trio so far. He sensed clear insecurity within both Chanel and James. James, he understood, even more so now. But he needed more information on Chanel.
She has an obvious need for validation.
She's hiding something dark. How long until I figure it out?
I guess I'll find out if I still have any charm left.
Chanel closed Zemo's door and turned around, coming face to face with Bucky. He had been waiting for her by her door.
Chanel rolled her eyes. "Really? I thought we decided you were going to trust me." She walked into her room and kicked her heels off as she spoke. The highs and lows of the day were taking their toll and she was craving the comfort of a midday nap.
Bucky followed behind her, "I do. I wasn't trying to imply otherwise. I just wanted to talk to you."
Chanel had climbed onto her bed and sat propped against the plethora of pillows as she turned her tv on.
"What's wrong?" She asked without looking at him.
"Nothing is wrong." Bucky stood uncomfortably in the doorway, not sure if she wanted him there or not.
Chanel looked over at him and smiled at his boyish awkwardness. "Are you going to come in then, or just keep standing there?"
Bucky was relieved at the invitation and amused at her tone. "You know, you're a lot nicer to Zemo than you are to me."
"Am I?" Chanel laughed. "Wait, shut the door and turn the light off. I have a killer headache; I need to chill before I have to start acting with Zemo again at dinner."
"I can come back if you—"
"No, no, you're not bothering me. Just take your shoes off and come sit with me." She patted the space on the other side of the bed.
Bucky did what she asked and settled onto the bed, keeping a few inches of space between them.
"What are you watching?"
"Girlfriends. Have you seen it?"
Bucky shook his head no, "I haven't seen anything, though."
"I just watch it to fall asleep sometimes. It's a classic, like a Black Friends, though I guess you haven't seen that either." She teased.
"Yeah, I haven't exactly had much time to watch tv."
"You and Sam work too much, that's why."
"And you don't?"
"I at least take time to enjoy myself while I'm working."
"That's obvious."
Chanel glared at him, immediately putting her defenses up. "If you have something to say, Barnes, just say it already."
Bucky tried to walk back his statement, "I didn't mean it like that."
Chanel wasn't convinced.
How else could he have possibly meant it? After his comments earlier about Steph and my 'mental stability'...I can only imagine what he must think of me.
"I can tell you want to know, so just ask." She braced herself for his judgement.
"Would you answer me if I did?" He shot back coolly.
Chanel rocked her jaw back and forth as she studied his expression. He wasn't trying to be hurtful. He somehow looked like he was the one who had been hurt.
"Fair," she finally conceded. "You get one question, and I'll answer you honestly, I promise." She crossed her fingers over her heart.
She expected a snarky remark back from him, but his voice was distant, as if he didn't really want to know the answer.
"Did you love him?"
"Who? Steph?" She screwed her face up in confusion.
When he didn't respond she sat up and turned to face him, she could see that Bucky was serious and she laughed shortly, "God no. I told you, that's not something that exists in my world. It was a job. When it was done, I left without hesitation."
Bucky shrugged, embarrassed that he even needed the answer to the question. "You just seem so at home here, like this is some part of you that you missed."
Chanel thought for a moment before answering. "In a way it is comforting. Did I get in deeper than I should have? Probably. I didn't plan it, Steph was different, he took me by surprise. Even though most of the time I was pretending to be someone else, I felt like I could tell him anything, and he accepted me as I was. Even after he found out the truth. We protected each other."
Bucky almost had to laugh at the irony; she was finally talking to him, opening up, and every word made his heart sink a little lower in his chest. "Doll, that sounds like love to me."
Chanel cocked her head to the side.
Why is he always so stubborn? He always has to be right.
She reached up and touched his face so he would look at her. "I don't appreciate you insinuating that I'm so bad at my job that I just fall in love with every mark I'm tasked with. I didn't love him."
Even as the words left her mouth she wasn't sure if they were true. He had planted a seed of doubt in her mind. She never felt like she loved Stephan. She felt protective of him and she would go so far as saying that she was fond of him. Of course she enjoyed his company, and the sex had been amazing, but love? Could she truly be so emotionally closed off that she didn't recognize when she was in love?
Bucky read the flicker of emotion in her eyes as a response to his judging comments. He grabbed her hand and held it tightly so she couldn't pull away from him. "Okay, I hear you." He truly wanted to believe her.
"I honestly didn't mean anything by it when I said you enjoy yourself on your missions. I was just trying to convey that I like being around you."
Chanel internally rolled her eyes.
Always such a charmer.
She unconsciously moved her thumb in comforting little circles over his hand. "Go on," she said with a small grin.
Bucky returned her smile, her tender touch chasing away his doubts. "You're fun and exciting and yet somehow I feel at ease when I'm near you. It's kind of intoxicating."
Chanel almost laughed out loud. At any given moment, she rarely felt fun or even happy. She was glad to know she didn't appear as damaged as she felt.
She moved closer to his side so that she could see his face better in the glow of the tv. "If I'm so intoxicating, why didn't you let me help you with Zemo?" She teased with a slight grin.
"You're still mad about that?" Bucky dramatically sank further down into the bed so that he could lay his head back against the pillows in a show of fake despair.
Chanel giggled as she laid down next to him on her stomach. She gently ran her fingers over his jawline.
"I'm not mad, but you did promise to make it up to me."
Bucky lifted his head slightly. The flicker of light from the tv danced across her skin, highlighting all the places he longed to touch. His resolve to take things slow was quickly melting away.
"What do you want?" He whispered.
"Tell me how you did it."
"What?"
"Tell me how you broke him out."
Bucky sat up again, surprised at her request.
"That is a high-security prison, and he's probably the most heavily guarded prisoner they had. I know you gave us a brief run-down earlier, but I want to hear all the details." She sat back up and sat on her knees expectantly.
Bucky leaned forward and ran his fingers up her arm, "I was stupid not to include you."
"Understatement of the year."
"I'll tell you, but only if you lay back down; you're supposed to be relaxing."
She let him pull her back against the pillows, and she laid down on her back, next to his side.
She closed her eyes, "better?"
Bucky laid back next to her, and her chin rested on his shoulder. "Better." He conceded.
As he walked her through every detail of the prison break, she constantly interrupted with questions and comments about what she would have done differently. Her excitement and interest pleased him.
He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so at peace. The combination of the dark room and her comforting presence had his eyelids drooping shut.
"Doll, I get it; you're smarter than me. I give up." He stifled a yawn.
Chanel sat up and examined his face, "You look exhausted. Did you not sleep last night?"
He pulled her back down next to him. "Not last night. Or most other nights."
"I'll shut up; you should take a nap. I'm missing the show anyways." She remained by his side but sat up a little more so she could see the tv.
Bucky let his eyes slip closed. Sleep was inevitable.
Her bed must be different than mine. It doesn't feel so overwhelmingly soft.
He rested his head on her shoulder, and sleep overtook him quickly.
Chanel glanced down at him. He looked so peaceful. All of the hard lines of his face finally softened.
She felt a sudden surge of protectiveness over him. She could understand why Sam felt the way he did. She wasn't good enough for him; even if Sam wouldn't say it directly, she knew that much was true.
What am I doing? This is not how making him jealous was supposed to end. I can't lead him on like this.
She started to move away from him, but he turned and wrapped his left arm around her waist, pulling her back. She tried to wiggle out from under his arm, but she was stuck.
Great.
His gentle breathing was relaxing, and she started to feel tired as well.
I've been stuck in worse places.
She sank down further on the bed so she could lay her head on the pillow. His body reacted intuitively and moved closer to her, like a plant stem reaching for rays of sunlight. His breath on her neck would typically have created a flurry of dirty images in her mind, but all she felt was contentment. Contentment to stay exactly where she was, but wasn't that selfish?
She sighed and reached for her phone to check the time.
We still have 20 minutes until dinner. I guess it would be rude to wake him up.
She closed her eyes and tried to shut down the destructive thoughts that flitted through her brain.
Before she knew it, she was being woken up by an impatient fist knocking on her door. She tried to sit up, but Bucky's arm still pinned her down.
Stupid vibranium arm.
"Who is it?" She called.
"Sam. Are you coming down to dinner? Zemo and I only have so much to talk about before things get weird-er."
Shit, what time is it?
She grabbed her phone again; it had been almost an hour since the last time she checked.
Shit!
"Yes! I fell asleep. Give me a second. I'll meet you downstairs."
"Where is Bucky? Don't tell me you two left me alone down there with Zemo so you could suck face."
"Is he always this annoying? I thought he only acted this way with me." Bucky mumbled, his voice groggy with sleep.
"Unfortunately, you're not special."
"I'm heartbroken." Bucky rolled over onto his back.
Finally free, Chanel quickly sat up and jumped off the bed. She turned the light on, and Bucky groaned in protest.
"We're late for dinner."
She gripped the door handle, but Bucky's hand was on top of hers before she could twist it.
"Hold on, I wasn't ready to get up yet."
His words were breathy against her ear, and the tone of his voice gave her pause, increasing her heart rate just slightly.
"Bucky—" She started to protest but faltered when she felt the tip of his nose lightly graze over her ear. His arm snaked around her waist and pulled her closer to him.
"Doll—?" He taunted.
The brush of his lips against her ear made her lick her lips. The heat only partially simmered when Sam knocked on the door again.
"Can I kiss you?" Bucky whispered.
Chanel nodded her head yes, and he placed a gentle kiss under her ear, his scruff tickling her skin deliciously.
Chanel closed her eyes as he continued to kiss down the length of her neck. "Where was all of this earlier when Sam wasn't standing right outside the door?" She asked, breathy but with a hint of annoyance.
"You make me nervous. Sometimes I can't tell if you actually like me or not. I lost my nerve. But you're the one that wanted to talk about the best ways to break in and out of prison for half an hour."
Chanel laughed and turned around, "And that was the best conversation we've had so far."
Bucky moved forward, gently pushing her against the door.
"And where is all your nervousness now?" She looked at him hungrily, patiently waiting for him to give her what she craved.
"Believe me, I'm a mess. But, I couldn't let you go back out there to play temptress with Zemo without kissing you first."
Sam knocked on the door again, "Chanel, come on, I really don't want to go back down there alone!"
"Give me a minute!" Chanel yelled back.
"Shut up and kiss me already." She whispered to Bucky.
He didn't need to be told twice. He kissed her like he was trying to mark her as his. It was the kind of kiss that left her mouth watering for more when he pulled away.
"That's not fair. You can't keep doing this to me," Chanel complained.
"I would apologize, but I'm not sorry this time." He ran his fingers over the flush of her cheeks with a satisfied grin.
His smirk irritated her, partially because she liked to be the one in control and partially because it made her want him even more.
In an attempt to gain back control, she wrapped her hand around his neck and pulled him back to her lips. The kiss was one she typically reserved for moments when she wanted to spark something further. She placed her hands under his shirt and slowly ran them up his torso. The feel of his hard muscles making her lose focus for a moment, "Jesus," was all she could mutter against his lips before they smashed back into hers.
He caught her wrist, stopping her hand before she reached the scars on his left shoulder.
She moved her hands back down his chest, and he let go, twisting his fingers in her hair.
Her fingers trailed over his abs before she let her fingertips just barely slip past the waistband of his jeans.
She broke the kiss and looked into his eyes, they displayed the fight he was having with himself to stop. He looked like he was still at the point that he could walk away from her if he really tried.
That was unacceptable.
Chanel moved her fingers a little lower and teasingly ran her thumbs over the defined v-cut of his abs.
His eyes closed as he inhaled sharply in response to her touch.
Chanel smiled wickedly; she had him.
"We had better stop sergeant Barnes. I am a respectable woman after all," she said with put-on innocence.
"Jesus, are you trying to kill me?" His voice was low and gravelly as he chased her lips.
She ducked under his arm and moved away from him before he could stop her. The look on his face mirrored how she had felt the previous night when he had left her hanging.
Chanel giggled, satisfied with her work, as she slipped her heels back on.
"Now who's not playing fair?" Bucky rubbed his hands over his face as he tried to get a grip over himself.
"I would apologize, but I'm not sorry," Chanel taunted as she opened the door and finally let Sam in.
"Sorry, I didn't think I would fall asleep. What did you and Zemo talk about?" She grinned at him jokingly.
"Not funny."
Sam pointed at Bucky, who had moved to the settee to put his shoes back on, "and not cool."
"What? I educated him on the culture. He didn't know what Girlfriends was."
"And you didn't invite me?" Sam turned to the tv, "I love this episode!"
He turned to Bucky, "Did you ever watch Martin?"
Chanel scoffed in disgust, "God, why are you always pushing that show as the end all be all of Black culture?"
"It's a good show!" He turned to Bucky expectantly.
"No, I didn't watch it. I don't even have Netflix."
Sam groaned in disbelief.
"Even if he did, he wouldn't have watched it. Now come on, I'm starving."
Bucky and Sam followed her downstairs. The sitting room was dark; the windows revealed ominous clouds that signaled an approaching thunderstorm. They walked into the dining room where Zemo was waiting. He pulled a chair out for Chanel and sat next to her.
That will never get old, he thought as he watched the irritation play out on Bucky's face.
Over dinner, they launched into a conversation about the super-soldier serum and Flag Smashers and Madripoor.
Once the plan was set, Sam addressed Chanel, "I'm not sure if you should come with us. I only asked you to come for your help interrogating Zemo and seeing as that is no longer necessary…."
"Of course I'm coming with you! I told you, I'm with you 100%."
"I appreciate that, but we're talking about super soldiers. We don't even know how many of them there are. You don't stand a chance against them. I can't ask you to come knowing I would be putting you in extreme danger."
Bucky caught her eye and read the silent plea for help on her face. He recalled the conversation they had about fighting styles.
He turned his attention to Sam. "I think she can handle herself. Fighting is about more than brute force. You were there when Natasha took me on, remember? She did fine. We need her."
"Oh, you mean the first time when you shot her? Or the second time when you nearly strangled her to death?"
"Keyword being nearly."
Sam glared furiously at Bucky, "I think your judgment may be clouded."
"I could say the same about you."
Chanel spoke up again, "I'm going with you. End of discussion."
Sam started to argue, but Chanel cut him off, "I understand your concern, but you can't seriously expect me to just sit back, send you off into danger, and risk never seeing you again!"
Her voice started to sound hysterical, and she paused to regain control of her emotions. She wouldn't have what happened with Nat happen with Sam too. She couldn't bear it.
Sam understood. He reached out and grabbed her hand, giving her a knowing look, "Okay. Okay."
"I promise I won't be unnecessarily reckless," she said quietly to calm Sam's nerves. "And you do need me. If I wasn't here, you three would be sat in that God-awful hotel right now trying to decide who gets to bunk with Zemo for the night."
Zemo was the only one that laughed at her attempt to lighten the mood.
"I'm not arguing anymore, but how exactly are you going to be unnecessarily reckless in a fight with super soldiers? You couldn't bring any of your gear through airport security."
"Don't worry about that. Stephan will have something here I can borrow. And maybe it will make you feel better if Bucky runs me through some drills in the gym downstairs." Her comment was directed at Sam, but she stared at Bucky mischievously.
"That would actually be a good idea." Bucky agreed.
Sam looked between the two of them, "logically, yes, that is a good idea, but somehow it does not make me feel any better."
While the three of them continued to discuss the conditions of Chanel's inclusion in the rest of the mission, Zemo moved to the large window at the end of the room to watch the rain.
A loud crack of thunder shook the house, and all of the lights went out.
Sam illuminated his face with his cell phone flashlight, giving himself a haunting glow. "Who wants to hear a scary story?"
"Real mature." Bucky turned on his phone flashlight and placed the phone on the table so everyone could see.
Chanel called for Manfred but received no reply.
"The backup generator should have kicked on by now." She stood up from the table to go look for Manfred when he suddenly rushed into the room, holding a burner phone in his hand.
"Ms. Thomas, we have an urgent problem."
Through the thick sheets of rain, Zemo barely noticed approaching headlights.
Two-no three sets. Feels like trouble.
He slowly turned to the table, "are you expecting company?"
Chanel looked at him confused; no one should have been able to get through the gate without alerting them. The lights flicked back on, and Chanel saw the panicked expression on Manfred's face.
"What is it, Manfred?"
The tone of her voice made Sam and Bucky jump to their feet.
"It's the Agostinelli. Nicolo and Luka. They called Mr. Kaiser and specifically asked if the woman of the house was home. They must have hacked the security system."
"The Agostinelli? That is not good." Zemo observed from his spot at the window.
"Shit," Bucky muttered.
Chanel's face was grave.
Goddammit! Fuck. I should have known this would happen. Okay, think, what do I do?
Chanel went to the window and stood next to Zemo. Bucky quickly joined her. She watched the three cars park in front of the house. Only Nicolo and his lackey, Luka, exited the vehicles.
"They brought backup, but only two are making an approach. That's a good sign."
Sam was frozen next to Manfred, trying to catch up. "What the hell is going on? Who is here?"
"The Agostinelli are an Italian drug cartel," Zemo replied matter of factly.
"Of course they are. I thought drugs fell under things that hurt people. What the hell, Chanel?!"
"Steph doesn't sell drugs anymore. I don't have time to get into this right now." Chanel closed the drapes quickly and walked back to Manfred. "Manfred, would you please prepare some champagne for our old friends?"
They shared a knowing look as Manfred nodded his agreement. "Mr. Kaiser is still on the phone. He would like to speak to you."
He handed Chanel the burner phone, and she quickly put it to her ear. Bucky, Sam, and Zemo crowded around her.
"Steph- I'm okay. What is this about?"
She listened to him anxiously.
"I figured as much. I'll handle it."
She began walking into the sitting room just as the doorbell rang.
"Don't apologize. It's just as much my mess as it is yours. Don't worry, I have backup if I need it."
She hung up the phone and turned to the men crowding her space.
"Everyone, be cool. Try not to look like a threat." She eyed Bucky's arm, "at least not too much of a threat. And please, please let me do all the talking. Don't interfere unless I tell you to."
Zemo lounged on a chair near the couch, completely relaxed and pleased with the turn of events. Sam and Bucky didn't move.
"Sit on the couch!" Chanel hissed at them as Manfred's and their guests' footsteps got closer.
They reluctantly obeyed, and Chanel made her way to meet Manfred and the unwelcome guests.
Sam and Bucky anxiously sized up the men that entered the room. Nicolo was tall and thin, his black hair styled in a spiky shag haircut.
Sam internally rolled his eyes at the open blazer with no shirt look that he had chosen to show off his full body of tattoos.
Could this dude be any cornier?
Luka was smaller but more built. His quaff of brown hair gave him a boyish look until you looked closer at his dead eyes.
"They have guns," Bucky whispered to Sam.
Sam clenched his fists. "What the hell has she gotten us into?" he muttered under his breath.
"Nicolo! Luka!" Chanel greeted them cheerfully as she placed a kiss on both of their cheeks. "To what do I owe this surprise? You do know that Stephan is not home, correct?"
"Yes, we came to talk to you. I see you have company. Should I bring my friends inside too?" Nicolo glanced around the room, sizing up the other men.
Bucky swiftly stuffed his arm behind the couch pillows.
This is exactly why I wear the long sleeves and gloves.
"That won't be necessary. They pose no threat to you. Just friends."
Nicolo eyed them all suspiciously and then leered at Chanel. He gently twisted a strand of her hair around his finger as he spoke.
"Does Stephan know you're entertaining friends under his roof again? I remember when you and I used to be friends."
Chanel shifted uncomfortably.
Why? Why did he have to bring that up?!
She was glad she couldn't see Sam's or Bucky's reaction.
"Yes, well, that was before you all screwed Steph and Klaus over on the Power Broker deal."
Nicolo jeered as he walked further into the room, Luka silently following him.
Chanel closely followed their movements, making sure to keep them between her and the wall. Manfred appeared at her side with a silver platter filled with champagne glasses and something covered by a cloth napkin.
Nicolo took a flute of champagne and downed half of it before throwing the glass across the room.
"You have the nerve to chastise me when you were spying on us the whole time?!" He screamed in her face.
The Power Broker? A spy? How interesting. Zemo watched coolly, excited to see what would happen next.
Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Bucky repeated to himself over and over to keep his body planted on the couch like she had asked.
"Touchy, touchy. Why are you here?" Chanel took a few steps towards him, pushing him closer to the wall.
"That is why I'm here. You and your boyfriend screwed the Power Broker and us out of a lot of money when you betrayed Klaus. And the Power Broker wants double for the product Stephan wasted. I've given him the opportunity to pay it back but time is up. "
Chanel scoffed, "Time is up? Don't forget who you're talking to. Stephan is still the boss around here. It seems that you are forgetting your place."
"Not for much longer. The tide is changing, babe. You might want to start rethinking your alliances. I'm not the only person you've pissed off. I might forgive you in time. Even protect you. If you pay me my goddamn money," he stepped closer to her until they were face to face, "and start acting like my friend again...why are you dressed so conservatively? Are you trying to fool your friends into thinking you are more than just a whore?"
He reached for the buttons on her blouse, and she sprung into action. With one fluid movement, she pulled the daggers that Manfred had hidden out from under the napkin on the champagne tray.
She threw one at Luka; it pierced the hand he was attempting to grab his gun with.
She used the other to slice Nicolo's forearm as she shoved him against the wall.
Her knee forcefully pressed into his abdomen, and the dagger pushed into his throat.
Holy shit, Sam, Bucky, and Zemo all thought at the same time.
Zemo reacted first and jumped up to disarm Luka while he was still screaming in pain. For good measure, he twisted the knife even further into his hand before pulling it out.
Chanel still had her hold on Nicolo. He had acted tough, but he knew what Chanel was capable of; he had incorrectly assumed she was softer now that she wasn't undercover. She pressed the blade deeper into his neck, drawing blood.
She spoke to him quietly but intensely, "You fucking weasel. You dare come to my house and threaten me? You're lucky Stephan isn't here. Or do you not remember what he did to your buddy Dante?"
Nicolo swallowed hard at the memory.
"That's what I thought. You're not getting any fucking money. Not from me and not from Stephan. Do you understand me?"
When Nicolo didn't respond fast enough, Chanel pushed the dagger harder, fully breaking the skin.
Sam moved to try and stop her as Nicolo cried out.
Zemo stopped him, "let her handle it. He'll be fine." He wanted to see how far she would take it.
Bucky was still seated on the couch, in a trance. When Sam jumped up to intervene, Bucky came to his senses.
This is not supposed to be hot. Focus.
He couldn't take his eyes off of Chanel, but he moved over to Zemo and held out his hand for the guns and dagger Zemo had taken off of Luka.
Zemo rolled his eyes but handed them over. "You've got a bit of drool on your chin there, James," he teased.
Bucky glared at him.
Zemo shrugged, "I don't blame you. She is quite impressive. I do hope she finishes the job."
Bucky took a few steps closer to Chanel, ready to step in if she took it too far.
Nicolo finally gave in, "Yes! I understand!"
"Good. If I ever see you or hear from you again. If you ever contact Stephan without permission. I swear to you that I will hunt you down and kill you myself."
She slowly removed the knife from his throat and started to back away.
"Fucking bitch." Nicolo muttered under his breath.
Chanel reacted on instinct and slashed the dagger across the side of his neck, leaving a large gash. He screamed and grabbed his neck as he fell to the floor, blood gushing through his fingers.
"Dammit!" Bucky grabbed Chanel's wrist and pulled her away from Nicolo.
Zemo let out a low chuckle, "He'll live. She didn't cut him that deep. Just enough to teach him some manners." He handed Nicolo the cloth napkin off of Manfred's tray. "Gentlemen, I think you have outstayed your welcome. Shall I show you to the door, or do you remember the way out?"
Nicolo glared at him but grabbed Luka by the collar and scrambled to the front door.
"It was a pleasure!" Zemo called after them.
He turned around and surveyed the scene. Manfred had quickly begun treating the bloodstains on the walls and the floor. Sam sat on the couch in shock with his head in his hands. Bucky still had a grip on Chanel's wrist. Blood stained her clothes and face. She looked like she was silently panicking but quickly pulled herself together.
"Bucky, I'm fine." She tried to release her wrist from his hand but couldn't. She glared at him and dropped the dagger, letting it hit the floor. He released her and picked the knife up.
Chanel turned to Sam, fully expecting him to start screaming at her. "Sam, before you say anything-"
He held his hand up to stop her. "I don't want to hear it. I have no words. I knew this was a bad idea. We are leaving first thing tomorrow. I'm going to bed."
Chanel watched him leave, dumbfounded.
"I'll talk to him. Don't worry about it." Bucky rubbed her back comfortingly. "Are you okay?"
She nodded yes as she leaned slightly into his body. Surrendering to the comfort that he radiated.
Zemo watched them from the bar.
So much potential for trouble. This should be interesting.
Bucky wrapped his arm around her firmly and leaned his head down to whisper to her, "good because otherwise I would feel really bad about how turned on I am."
Chanel chuckled, "really? That is what does it for you?"
"Usually? No, but that wasn't bad. Up until I thought you killed him, but then when I realized you didn't...back on."
"Ha. You're just trying to make me feel like less of a psychopath." The gravity of the situation was starting to fully sink in, and Chanel was losing the battle with her impending meltdown.
"Ms. Thomas, the stains on your clothes! We must treat them quickly." Manfred rushed to her in a panic.
"Leave it, Manfred. I just want to go take a shower. Can you call Steph and let him know what happened?"
"Certainly, Miss, but I think he'll want to talk to you." Manfred glared at Bucky as he led Chanel to the stairwell.
"Tell him I'm fine, and I'll call him tomorrow."
She caught sight of Zemo at the bar, "Zemo, I'm so sorry, I'm being a horrible host. Would you like to have tea after I get cleaned up?"
"Certainly, I will anxiously await your return."
Bucky stiffened at her side.
Does she have to be so friendly? Feels unnecessary.
Chanel was lost in thought as she and Bucky walked to her room. She worried about Sam. She hadn't meant to lose control like that. She couldn't imagine what he was thinking. She stopped short after they passed his door, "I need to talk to Sam. I need to apologize." She started to turn around, but Bucky stopped her.
"You need to get cleaned up. I told you I would talk to him."
Chanel touched her cheek and felt the blood, "Oh. Yeah, you're right." She let him lead her to her room and into the bathroom. Her thoughts were racing.
You really thought you could change? What a fucking joke. It's just luck that I didn't kill him. Sam must be disgusted with me. What do I even say to him?
And Bucky was already judging me earlier today, all his comments about Steph and Zemo…maybe he was right, I'm in over my head. And the more he backs me up, the more he gets on Sam's bad side.
Why am I constantly ruining everything?
She barely registered that Bucky had lifted her onto the bathroom counter and was wiping the blood off of her with a warm washcloth. Her thoughts were quickly devolving. She felt worthless, weak, like more trouble than she was worth.
Bucky wasn't used to her being so checked out. It was unnatural for her to be this quiet. As he wiped the last of the blood off of her face, he broke the silence, "are you sure you're okay? I don't think you've been this quiet since we met."
His words cut through Chanel's self-hatred thought fest, and she snapped her head up to look at him. His warm eyes triggered a brief flashback.
"Do you have a death wish?" Cameron teased as he gently patted the cuts on her face with a cotton ball.
"Maybe. But what was I supposed to do?"
Chanel sat next to Cameron in an empty alleyway as he bandaged her up.
"How about not starting a fight you can't win? We live in the south. Are you planning on fighting everyone that hurls racist slurs at you?" He was only half-joking.
Chanel rolled her eyes and ignored his question. "How did you afford all of this stuff?" She motioned to the plastic bag of medical supplies.
"Five-finger discount." Cameron wiggled his fingers at her.
"Cameron! What if you had been caught? You can't afford to shoplift in this part of town. The cops have beaten men for less."
"Maybe. But what was I supposed to do?"
She looked away from him, feeling guilty that she was always dragging him into her messes.
He lifted her chin and smiled at her, "You're the light of my life. You can do no wrong in my eyes. I'll do anything I have to to take care of you. I'm proud of you."
He kissed her gently, and she never felt happier.
Chanel came back to reality, snatched the washcloth out of Bucky's hand, and jumped off the counter.
"Why are you doing this?" She snapped at him, trying to keep the tears that were building from spilling out onto her cheeks.
She turned her back to him to look in the mirror. His presence made her feel worse. All of the things she hated about herself were only made more evident in comparison to the gentleness and purity that she had begun to see in him.
"Doing what? What did I do wrong?" Bucky followed her across the bathroom and stood next to her side.
Chanel backed away from him, "This!" she vaguely motioned at his general presence.
Bucky knit his eyebrows in confusion.
"I almost killed someone just now, and you're acting like that's not a big deal. You're acting like I'm..like I'm a good person." Chanel bit her tongue hard to keep the tears from springing from her eyes.
The corners of Bucky's lips pulled down in a frown. "Doll-"
"Don't. Please don't call me that." She moved away from him again, crossing to the other side of the bathroom.
"I'm not a good person; so much darkness surrounds everything I do, everywhere I go," She spoke more to herself than she did to him.
"I have a hard time believing that. I know I haven't known you for very long, but I can't imagine there being any darkness in your presence; you light up every room you're in."
Chanel froze, the pounding in her chest becoming unbearable. She needed him to leave, now.
Bucky took her silence as a sign to keep talking, "What happened tonight wasn't your fault." He moved closer to her and tentatively put his hand on her shoulder, "Frankly, I'm impressed, and I'm sure Sam is too; he just needs time to admit he's proud of you."
"Stop! You don't know me! I don't need you to make excuses for me." Chanel's knuckles turned white as she gripped the counter, trying to control her emotions and block out the memories of Cameron that Bucky was triggering.
"I'm not-"
"Please, just leave." Chanel spat out.
When he didn't move, she finally looked at him. With her emotions under control for just a moment, her eyes were emotionless, and her voice was cold.
"Please. Zemo is waiting on me. I need to shower."
Bucky stalked out of the bathroom without saying anything. When he was gone, Chanel stepped into the shower and finally let her emotions bubble to the surface. She cried until no more tears would come.
Bucky went straight to Sam's door and pounded on it loudly.
"What?!" Sam yelled when he yanked the door open.
Bucky pushed his way into the room.
"Yes, please come in," Sam said sarcastically as he shut the door.
"You need to go talk to Chanel."
"Great, she's got you delivering messages now?"
"She didn't ask me to come talk to you."
Sam raised his eyebrows sarcastically and mouthed, "sure."
"I'm…" Bucky hesitated, uncomfortable with being open with Sam. Still, Chanel's words rang in his head, and he pushed on, "I'm worried about her."
Sam laughed shortly.
Bucky narrowed his eyes, "This isn't funny. I thought you were supposed to be her friend? She's not okay. She cares what you think more than anyone. She needs you."
"Yeah, well, I needed her to not drag us into this kind of shit. I told you both it was not a good idea to stay here. We have a reputation to uphold; we can't be involved in this kind of stuff. I don't know if I can trust her anymore."
"You don't mean that. She did what she had to do, and it worked out fine. Everything she's done so far has only helped us."
"It doesn't count if she caused the situation she had to help us out of!"
"You know what I mean. You asked her to come for a reason. You knew what you were getting. Same as me."
Sam knew Bucky was right. He just wasn't ready to admit it. He opened the door, signaling he wanted Bucky to leave.
Bucky didn't move.
"Fine, I'll talk to her, but right now, I need to get some sleep."
Bucky nodded and started to leave.
"And Buck, be careful. Chanel always gets what she wants, but she rarely holds on to it for long."
Bucky didn't respond as he turned and walked to his room.
After stripping his shirt and jeans off, he grabbed a pillow and blanket off of the king-size guest bed. He laid on the floor. He didn't know which was worse, his racing thoughts or the nightmares that were waiting for him when he closed his eyes. He desperately wanted to go back to Chanel's room, but she clearly needed space, and Sam's comment was nagging at him. He didn't know what to make of it.
Is that why she pushed me away?
She seemed so genuine this afternoon though. Something deeper must be going on.
What could she have possibly done to make her think she's not a good person...especially while standing in my company?
Chanel sat in front of her mirror, wrapped in her towel, and stared at her puffy eyes and the dark circles that surrounded them. She waited for her strength to come back to her. She needed to get it together. She was more useless to Sam like this than when she was causing problems. She glanced at the clock.
Shit, Zemo must be wondering where I am.
Just then, there was a soft knock on her door. Hopeful that it was Sam, she jumped up and swung the door open quickly. Zemo stood at her door holding a tray of tea.
They both stood awkwardly for a moment, taking in what they were each seeing.
Not Sam. Damn.
God, I hope he can't tell I've been crying.
Oh shit, I'm still in my towel!
Zemo quickly scanned her from head to toe, "it seems that we both like answering the door undressed." He smiled at her slyly. "I'm sorry to interrupt. When you didn't come back, I suggested to Manfred that I bring the tea to you."
Chanel pulled herself together and smiled at him, "How thoughtful of you,' she welcomed him into the room. "I do apologize; I lost track of time. I hope you don't find me rude."
"Not at all. It is understandable after the night you have had."
"Please have a seat," she motioned for him to sit on the settee in front of her bed. "I'll be just a moment." She quickly got dressed, pulling on a black short sleeve bodysuit and sweat shorts. She threw her hair into a messy bun and returned to the room to sit next to Zemo.
He handed her a teacup, "I figured chamomile was the best choice this evening."
"Perfect."
They both sipped their tea and silently stared at each other. Zemo saw the redness around her eyes and how exhausted she looked. He also noticed the absence of Sam and Bucky. He had expected to find at least one of them here.
"So, a spy?" Zemo asked nonchalantly as he stirred more honey into his tea.
"I was. But don't worry, that's not what I'm doing here now."
"That's exactly what a spy would say."
"True. But if I was here as a spy, I wouldn't be with Sam and Bucky, trust me on that."
"Too much teamwork?"
"Too much moral ambiguity."
Chanel finished her tea and curled her legs up underneath her on the settee.
Zemo nodded his head in agreement, "Is that why they are not here now? I had expected to find at least James here with you." He motioned to the untouched cup of tea that remained on the tray.
Chanel dropped her gaze to the floor.
"That's exactly why they need you. You were excellent tonight. Fierce. Ruthless. I only wish I could have seen what you would have done had Sam and James not been present."
She looked up at him. He was smiling at her; he was being genuine.
"Don't tell me the tears were over that. You did what needed to be done. You single-handedly saved the rest of us from an unfair fight."
Chanel wondered if he was right. What else could she have done? She had to protect herself, Manfred, and Stephan. She started to feel prideful. She had always felt good about being able to defend her fake family when she had lived with Stephan. Why should it be any different now? She hadn't killed anyone, even if he had deserved it.
Her mood brightened, and she smiled at Zemo, "I appreciate that, Helmut."
His heart raced a little faster when she spoke his first name, but he still arrogantly believed he held the upper hand. He reached out and cupped her face, "Never shy away from that part of you. We need it."
Chanel stared into his chocolate eyes and minutely nodded her head in agreement.
He let go and sat back. "More importantly, you may need it. Tell me about your dealings with the Power Broker."
"When I came here, it was to find out more about Klaus, Stephan's old partner. They were dealing in a lot of stuff, drugs mostly, but also weapons, and they were on the verge of getting their hands on something bigger. That's part of what I was supposed to find out. Stephan didn't like the smell of it. He doesn't trust anyone who hides behind a false identity," she caught what she had said and laughed shortly, "well most people anyway...but before we could make it to the meeting with the Power Broker, Nicolo's old boss, Dante, went behind our backs and completed the deal without us."
"What happened to this Klaus?"
"I was given the order to bring him in, even though the government wasn't pleased that they got nowhere near the Power Broker or the contraband. However, Steph knew if Klaus was in prison, he would stop at nothing to take us, mostly me, down. So before I could bring him in, Steph killed him."
"So you never found out what the contraband was? Does Dante still have it?"
"Stephan took whatever it was after he handled Dante, but he wouldn't tell me. I was already being reassigned to a new mission in Paris."
Zemo listened gravely, "And tonight, Nicolo said your meddling cost the Power Broker money?"
"I'm sure it did. When my cover was blown, and I got Steph a deal, he was forced to get out of the drug trade. So was everyone else that worked for him. All, well most, of them, respected us enough to fall into line. They all knew it was for the best that Klaus was out of the picture. But Steph and those that work for him were a big revenue stream for the Power Broker. I can imagine he, or she, is not happy with me."
"Are you sure that Nicolo still works for Stephan?"
"Of course, who else would he-"
"I'm afraid the Power Broker's reach has extended well beyond Madripoor. If he, or she, wants repayment, they will get it. Your show of dominance may have worked in the short term, but I believe if a situation ever required ruthlessness, it is this one. What will happen to Manfred if they come back tomorrow after we have left?"
Chanel started to panic, but she couldn't go looking for trouble. No, she only acted in defense. She couldn't be the aggressor.
"Steph will be back soon; he can handle it from there."
Zemo shrugged.
"I think it is time for us to call it a night. Thank you for the tea." She stood up and walked over to the door to show him out.
"Of course," He walked through the door and turned to grab her hand, "good night, my dear, sweet dreams." He placed a kiss on her knuckles and then walked to his guest room.
Chanel glanced at Sam's closed door and then at Bucky's. She considered knocking on one or both of their doors, but exhaustion was overtaking her. She closed her door and crawled into bed, quickly falling into a fitful sleep.
A few hours later, she was awakened gently by a husky voice speaking German in her ear and a rough hand brushing against her face. She slowly opened her eyes, "Stephan?"