Chapter 9: If You're On A Mission, You Got My Permission
AN: This chapter has been a thorn in my side, I think because it contains the scene that started this crazy journey in the first place. I wanted it to be perfect and finally said just publish it. I do love it though and I hope you do too! This story has been so good for me these past few months. It's been therapy, and escape, a release. And I've even made new friends. I'm going through some big changes in life right now (about to start grad school and move to a new state) and writing this story is the only thing that has kept me sane.
Thank you for being here 😊
Warnings: Nothing really but there are sex scenes, nothing gratuitous. I hope that you'll be able to see the development of the characters and their relationships within those scenes.
Title song: Gimme More – Britney Spears
"Well, this is just too perfect. Drop it, Zemo." Sharon approached from out of the darkness, her gun pointing in Zemo's direction.
Chanel turned toward the unfamiliar voice and raised her gun in response, stepping in front of Zemo protectively.
"Sharon?" Sam stepped forward, surprised at the familiar face.
Chanel glanced at Sam but didn't lower her weapon. Sharon didn't either.
"Sharon, wait—" Sam started.
"You cost me everything," Sharon spat, directed at all 3 of the men.
"Someone recreated the super-soldier serum, and Zemo had a lead," Bucky interjected, hoping to calm Sharon down.
Sharon lowered her gun, "So that's why you guys are here."
"Yeah. What are you doing here?" Sam asked, genuine concern in his voice.
"I stole Steve's shield and your wings, remember? Kind of a capital offense. And unlike you, I didn't have the Avengers to back me up, so I'm off the grid in Madripoor." Her voice hadn't lost any of the anger she felt, but she holstered her weapon.
Recognition dawned on Chanel's face.
Sharon Carter.
She had heard the name from Sam shortly before he went on the run with Steve and Nat.
"Who's this?" Sharon threw a suspicious look at Chanel, who was still in her protective stance in front of Zemo.
Sam put his hand on Chanel's, and she finally lowered her weapon. "This is Chanel; she's a friend."
Chanel had to hold back from whacking Sam upside the head. She didn't know this woman; why would he give her real name?
"A friend of yours or a friend of his?" Sharon threw another disgusted look in Zemo's direction.
"A friend of everyone's." Chanel finally spoke up.
The less she knew, the better; Chanel didn't like the way she was staring at her.
"Sharon, we need your help." Bucky tried to get everyone back on track.
Sharon laughed shortly, "that's rich."
"Please, Sharon."
"Fine, but this isn't over," she said with a sigh. "I have a place in High Town. You should be safe there for a while."
They followed Sharon through a maze of streets en route to her car. Chanel held Sam back. "I should have told you this before, so my bad, but why the fuck would you give her my real name?!" She whisper-shouted as she hit him.
"Chill, it's just Sharon. She's one of us, remember? I told you about her."
"I know who she is. But she is not one of us. I don't know her, and neither do you really."
"That's just the spy in you talking. What happened to trying to be more trusting?"
Chanel scowled at him but dropped it as they approached Sharon's car.
"Sam, you're the one I hate the least. You get shotgun," Sharon said as she climbed into the car.
"Ouch," Bucky pretended he was offended by the slight as he got into the backseat.
"He's the only one that hasn't tried to kill me," Sharon shot back.
Chanel squeezed in the middle of the backseat between Zemo and Bucky, grateful to finally be off her feet.
"So, what the hell happened at the bar?" Sharon asked after several minutes of tense silence.
"Yeah, we need to talk about that." Sam turned in his seat to face the others. "What the hell was that, Chanel?"
"Don't give her a hard time; it wasn't her fault," Bucky said.
Sam rolled his eyes and looked at Zemo. "Did you or did you not say no weapons?"
Zemo shrugged his shoulders. "It would have ended in a fight just the same."
"Unbelievable." Sam rolled his eyes harder. "I'm just saying, I'm not taking any more spy advice from you when you blew our cover because you got jealous."
"I wasn't jealous," she fired back, further annoyed by Sam's spewing of information with a stranger in the car.
Sam raised a challenging eyebrow.
Chanel sighed. "Maybe I overreacted a bit. I just didn't like the way she was acting like Bucky was-something to own. And she kept fucking touching him." She started to get flustered, feeling embarrassed now at her reaction. She turned to Zemo, "and if you ever pull that shit again, your neck is the one I'll be sticking my blade into."
Zemo put his hands up in surrender. "You have my word."
"You know he's a super-soldier with a vibranium arm, right? He doesn't need protection," Sam teased.
Chanel crossed her arms and sat back in her seat. She was glad it was dark; her cheeks were scarlet from embarrassment. "I know," she mumbled.
Bucky squeezed her thigh, and she looked up at him. The look in his eyes pushed the embarrassment out of her mind.
Bucky kept his mouth shut; nothing he wanted to say felt appropriate in a car full of people. It was unlike him to not be more focused on what had just happened or worrying about what their next move was. But he wasn't interested in their discussion; all he could think about was Chanel; this dress was really doing a number on him.
Sam was right; he didn't need protection, he hadn't been enjoying himself, but he was never in any danger. But he liked the way she looked protecting him. Mostly, he liked that she wanted to protect him. He couldn't remember a time when he had wanted someone as much as he wanted her at that moment.
Zemo's curiosity was focused on a different part of the evening as he recalled the stripper who had approached Chanel and the tall Asian woman who had been suspicious of them. He played with a strand of her blonde hair again, drawing her attention to him. "What exactly was your undercover identity?"
"I was infiltrating a sex trafficking ring. I worked at the bar and for Yoshe, making sure the dancers were safe when they entertained private clients. I set up meetings between some of the girls and the wealthier clientele. Made sure they came back alive and got paid."
"So, you were a pimp?" Sam laughed.
"I prefer Madam. But yeah...basically. I could tell Selby wasn't treating the girls well. Maybe now Yoshe will take over again."
"Your life is so fascinating." Sam turned back around as they approached Sharon's home.
Zemo continued pressing her for information on her time in Madripoor purely out of curiosity. As far as he was concerned, if she could survive in Madripoor for months, she could do anything.
Bucky was still lost in his lusty haze as they followed Sharon through her art gallery. She pointed out some of the more classic pieces to Sam, who was shocked they were real. But Bucky's eyes never drifted from Chanel's body.
"Oh hey," Chanel turned in his direction, "I forgot to mention that I used a signal jammer to make sure that no one was able to post videos of you from the bar. Hopefully, that keeps the posts down to a minimum. Later I can try and scrub any that made it through off the Internet."
Bucky nodded. "Thanks."
He moved past her, following the others into Sharon's living room.
His stunt at the bar.
How could he have forgotten?
Why did it feel so natural to slip back into that role?
He hadn't fought like that in years, not even when they were dealing with Thanos.
He was surprised he hadn't killed anyone.
Fucking Zemo, that's exactly what he had been hoping for.
He was delighted.
He probably dragged the whole evening out just waiting for a chance to sic me on someone like a dog.
And here I am daydreaming about a woman I'm no good for.
He was disgusted with himself. He just wanted to slink away somewhere and be alone. He sat on Sharon's couch, waiting for her to show them where they could stay. Chanel sat down next to him, too close. He could smell her perfume; she was wearing the one he liked.
Of course.
He tried not to flinch away from her, not wanting to hurt her feelings.
Chanel tuned out the conversation Sam was having with Sharon about getting her back to the States. She was impatiently waiting for Sharon to dismiss them to wherever they were going to be staying. She just wanted to get Bucky alone already. She was struggling to keep her hands off of him now.
Her attention was caught when Sharon's tone turned snippy. She looked up; Sam looked unphased as always.
"You know the whole hero thing is a joke, right? I mean, the way you gave up that shield, deep down, you must know it's all hypocrisy."
"He knows. And not so deep down." Zemo chimed in.
"How is the new Cap, by the way?" Sharon teased.
That got Bucky's attention. "Don't get me started," he groaned.
Sharon scoffed and turned her attention to her new prey. "Oh please, you buy into all of that bullshit." She sat on the coffee table in front of Bucky and Chanel. "Before you were his pet psychopath," she pointed at Zemo. "You were Mr. America! Cap's best friend." She giggled as she watched Bucky's jaw tighten. And then got up to walk away, satisfied with her work.
"Wow. She's kind of awful now." Bucky glanced at Sam, who had that irritating calm and patient look in his eyes.
Chanel restrained herself from grabbing a fistful of Sharon's blonde hair and yanking her down to the floor. "Can you blame her? I would be a bitch too if Captain America made out with me and then left me on my own to become a criminal in this hell hole while he went back in time to fuck my aunt," she said with as much sarcastic venom as she could muster.
No one said anything for a minute as Sharon stared at Chanel, trying to decide if she should let the comment slide or show her who she was really messing with.
Zemo finally let out a chuckle that set the others off as well.
Sharon's skin flushed red. "You know what? You guys can leave then."
"No, Sharon, come on. Please, we need you," Sam begged. "Chanel is just a little on edge. She didn't mean it. Right, Chanel?" Sam nodded encouragingly at her.
Chanel didn't know what it was, but something about this woman just rubbed her the wrong way. She didn't want to fuck anything else up, though, so she put on her best fake smile. "Right. I'm sorry."
It was hardly convincing, but Sharon let it slide. "It's okay hun, I'm sorry. I'll try to be nicer." Sharon's apology wasn't any more convincing. She turned to Bucky. "You are not a psychopath." Less convincing.
Chanel glared at her when she turned her back; the condescending pet name just added more fuel to the fire.
Bitch.
She took a deep breath, letting her anger go, and refocused on Bucky. She would be in a much better mood if she could get laid already.
"So, I have three guest rooms," Sharon said, mainly addressing Sam, as she was fed up with everyone else. "They're on the second floor. Make yourselves at home." She turned to Chanel with a plastered smile. "I suppose you could stay with me if you'd like, hun."
Chanel almost laughed at the offer. "No, thanks."
Sharon shrugged, "Sam?"
"Um, no, I'm good," Sam stuttered, surprised at the offer.
"Suit yourself. I'll be in the gallery if you need anything. We probably need to meet back up in a bit to discuss how we are going to get you out of here." Sharon finished her statement over her shoulder as she left them alone.
Bucky quickly stood up and headed upstairs, desperate to get in a room by himself for just 5 minutes.
Chanel watched him go, now was her chance.
"I assume you want to room together?" Sam asked.
"Yeah, sure, that's fine," Chanel answered, not really hearing his question as she chased Bucky up the stairs.
She caught his arm just as he was rounding the corner. To her surprise, he spun around and gripped her wrist tightly in his metal hand, flinging it off of his arm.
Bucky was at the end of his rope. He was trying to get away from her and that fucking dress. He just needed space to clear her out of his head, and here she was fluttering behind him like a moth to a flame. If that wasn't bad enough, she practically fucking moaned when he wrenched her hand off his arm.
Before the gasp had finished leaving her lungs, Chanel found herself in one of the guest rooms pressed up against the wall, Bucky's lips crashing into hers.
"It's about time," Chanel teased breathlessly.
She moved her hands down his body, over the worn leather of his jacket until she reached the bulge in his pants.
The growl he let out against her neck just made her rub him faster.
Curious about how she would react, Bucky forcefully removed her hand with his vibranium arm, pinning it roughly against the wall.
The little desperate moan that she let out made him squeeze her wrist harder.
Bucky looked down at her, slightly confused. "You like that?"
Chanel glanced at her wrist trapped in his metal grasp and nodded her head yes. She grasped his free hand and guided it under her dress, her eyes fluttering closed when his fingers brushed over her clothed sex.
"Feel for yourself."
Bucky hesitated, his brain trying to make sense of what was happening. Threatening to make him feel unworthy of even this little bit of happiness. He just wanted to let go, to give in to the desire that was consuming him. But he didn't know how to quiet the part of his brain that was telling him to leave her alone.
"You're so tense," Chanel rubbed his arm, trying to release him from whatever was holding him back. "Come on, let it out." Her voice had the edge of challenge.
She pulled him into a heated kiss, both of them trying to devour the other. Pulling back slightly, Chanel whispered against his lips. "Use me. Or do I have to use the magic words on you…get you to do whatever I want." She punctuated her tease with a bite to his lower lip, making him moan.
She started speaking to him in Russian, reciting the words she had seen on the paper Zemo had almost given to Selby.
Bucky groaned and finally ripped the tiny strap of lace she called underwear off her body, making her gasp. They both moaned as he finally touched her, basking in the electric feel of each other.
"Fuck," was the only word Bucky could pull out of his brain.
"All for you, Soldat," Chanel rasped, still speaking Russian.
"How many goddamn languages do you speak?" Bucky sped up his fingers and sank his teeth into the tender flesh of her neck.
Chanel ignored his question, continuing to recite the Russian words. She could feel the shift as he gave in to his animalistic desires, and she arched her back, trying to get closer to him.
"So that's what got you all hot and bothered then? Zemo's little attempt at selling me?"
"I was already a mess before that. That was just icing on the cake." Chanel shuddered as he brought her closer and closer to release. "This fucking outfit, watching you fight in the bar, can you really blame me?"
Bucky was conflicted; he wasn't sure why this turned him on so much. But as her breathy voice begged him for more, he decided that was a question for another time.
"Hands against the wall," he ordered in Russian.
Chanel almost melted to the floor in response to his commanding tone. She quickly spun around and did what she was told. He was hard, pressed against her body, and she licked her lips in anticipation of what he would do next.
"Wider." His Russian was getting harsher as he nudged her legs farther apart with his foot. Looking down, the juxtaposition of his rugged military boots next to her dainty heels sent heat scorching through her straight to her core.
He started to undo the zipper of her dress, kissing the exposed flesh of her neck.
"We don't have time; just take me," Chanel whined, squirming against him.
Bucky moved his lips to her ear. "I've been thinking about taking this dress off of you all night. We have time." Switching back to Russian, he added, "be still."
Chanel shuddered, "you're killing me." Her breathing grew ragged as he continued slowly pulling her zipper down.
His lips left no piece of skin untouched. He was on his knees by the time he reached the end of the zipper, right above her ass. Chanel let out a desperate whine when she felt his fingers sliding her thigh holster down her leg.
"So needy," Bucky muttered against her skin before he lightly bit her thigh.
After that, Chanel began losing her grip on her restraint, and the unexpected quick flick of his tongue over her desperate folds made her slam her hand against the wall. She was even more surprised when he was suddenly standing straight up again, his lips back at her ear.
"wha—why—?" That was all she could sputter out.
"I just wanted a taste," he purred in her ear. "You said we didn't have time, remember?"
Chanel started to argue, but her words turned into a needy moan when she heard him undo his own zipper.
He really wanted to drag this out and enjoy every inch of her, but that would have to wait. Right now, he thought he might die if he didn't have her. His domineering facade broke in his desperation, and his voice dropped to a gravelly whisper. "Fuck I want you so much. I need you." He planted desperate sloppy kisses on her neck as he spoke. "Please?"
His switch from dominant to submissive gave Chanel whiplash, and she didn't know which one she liked more.
"God, yes, take what you want." She sounded just as desperate as he felt.
In one fluid movement, he twirled her around and lifted her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist. Chanel rolled her head back against the wall as he finally entered her. Her pent-up frustrations at long last finding release with each pant of warm breath that Bucky's hips knocked out of her lungs. One high heel had already dropped to the floor, and the speed and power of his thrusts had the other dangling off her toes. It rocked back and forth wildly, in tune with his hips until it finally tumbled to the floor.
Bucky's worries and doubts were tightly locked away as he tried to entangle himself impossibly closer with Chanel. The hand that wasn't holding her up frantically roamed over her body, and he cursed himself for never actually taking the dress off.
But neither of them had the patience to draw this out further, and they both knew they wouldn't last much longer.
Chanel pulled his vibranium hand up to her throat, drawing a hesitant look from Bucky.
"Please," she begged, her eyes already glazing over just from the anticipation of it.
He obliged, applying light pressure on her neck. Almost immediately, he felt her walls flutter around him, and she moaned his name as she reached her peak. That was it for him; his name had never sounded so pretty.
He held her there, against the wall as they both came down from their highs. "That's not exactly how I thought our first time would go." Bucky was already missing her, and she was still in his arms.
Chanel pecked him on the lips and unwrapped herself from him. "We have time, soldier."
Before he could do anything else, she had put herself back together and was leaving. "I guess this is your room now. Sam and I will take the one next door." She winked at him as she shut the door behind her.
Bucky sat on the edge of the bed. He should have felt good, but he didn't. The high had faded as soon as she left the room. Now he just felt insecure. He tried to tell himself he was overreacting, but the encounter just felt too similar to his past ones. Women wanted to fuck him; they never wanted to stay with him after.
He dragged himself out of his pity party long enough to shower, and he felt better once he was back in his regular clothes. He made his way downstairs and followed the voices of everyone else into Sharon's kitchen.
Sam, Chanel, and Zemo were all sitting on bar stools while Sharon moved around the kitchen, preparing them something to eat. He approached the group from behind and leaned over Sam's shoulder to see what they were staring at. Chanel, having changed into sweats and taken her blonde wig and makeup off, sat in the middle with her tablet. They were watching news footage of the bar fight. Stephan's face was shown along with their own as wanted.
"Oh, that's who you are!" Sharon exclaimed, making them jump. "Chanel Thomas. And that's your beau, Stephan, right?"
Chanel flicked her gaze up to Sharon; the cock of her head made Chanel uneasy. "Yeah, that's me." There was no point in lying; her face was everywhere.
"Great. I don't know if I can protect you, hun; you're hot. Like white-hot. Why isn't Stephan with you?"
"We're not together anymore. I don't know why he's even here," Chanel lied and refused to meet her eyes, hoping she would stop talking.
"I can tell you that. The word is he was asking about the Power Broker and apparently lost his temper when no one would give him the time of day." Sharon leaned over the counter to watch the news footage. "It looks like he might have gotten his hands on some of the serum, don't you think, hun?" Sharon cocked an eyebrow at Chanel.
This chick was really grating on her nerves.
How did she notice that when Sam and Bucky hadn't?
"Chanel?" Sam looked concerned as he watched the footage closer.
Zemo tapped his fingers anxiously against the counter, waiting to see what Chanel would do.
Chanel sighed and buried her face in her hands, "he took the serum. And apparently gave it to these idiots too." She referred to the meatheads that Stephan had following him around.
Sam and Bucky stared at her in disbelief.
Sharon smirked and clicked on her own tablet, pulling up several other news broadcasts. "This is all from tonight. He's going to burn the whole damn city down trying to find the Power Broker. If he doesn't decide to end this little tantrum first."
Chanel watched the various newscasts with wide eyes. This wasn't Stephan; he was hurting innocent people. He was going to get himself killed. She felt sick.
"How did he even know where we were?" Bucky asked.
"I have no idea. Maybe he got lucky." Chanel muttered. She dug through her bag for her burner phone. She found it and flipped it open, about to dial Stephan's number. Sam stopped her, taking the phone from her hand.
"That's not a good idea."
"Sam, I'm in no mood." Chanel tried to wrestle the phone from him.
"Listen, I know you care about him. But you'll put the rest of us, including Sharon, in danger if you call him. We don't know how he found us; he could be tracking your phone."
Sam was right. She wouldn't endanger him or Bucky. But not knowing where Stephan was or if he was okay was killing her.
"Fuck!" Chanel yelled in frustration. She stomped away from the group, walking into Sharon's art gallery down the hall.
She sat on a bench in front of a large mural painting and put her head between her legs as she tried to control her breathing. That was hard to do when the reasons to panic were quickly piling up.
Is Stephan okay?
Where is he?
Zemo knows. He'll try to kill him.
The news footage of the destruction and death Stephan caused in just the span of a few hours replayed in her head.
Maybe Zemo has a point.
Fuck.
She looked up at the sound of approaching heels clicking on the tile; Sharon smiled sadly at her.
"Entre l'arbre et l'écorce il ne faut pas mettre le doigt."
Her words sounded condescending to Chanel.
Between a rock and a hard place? No shit.
Why is she speaking French?
Pretentious.
Chanel rolled her eyes and started to leave.
"Wait. I come in peace." Sharon held her hands up. "I think we got off on the wrong foot. I want to extend an olive branch."
Chanel warily sat back down, annoyed that Sam let Sharon come after her.
"I know it's probably killing you to just sit here doing nothing." Sharon glanced at Chanel, and she nodded her head. "I asked around. It seems that Stephan left town. He's safe." Sharon moved closer to Chanel and smiled at her as if they were old friends and she had a secret to spill. "Listen, hun, I'm having a party for some clients tomorrow night. I sell to some pretty important people. I'll see what I can dig up on the Power Broker. Maybe that will help you, once it's safe, to get to him before he gets to Stephan. I told the guys I would ask around about Nagel too."
"Thanks." Chanel stood up. "You seem to have a lot of contacts. You know a lot."
Sharon maintained her easy smile, "So goes the life of an art dealer in Madripoor. Are we cool, hun?"
Chanel eyed her again with a dissatisfied hum. "It's not personal. I don't trust anyone. But if you're helping us, we're cool."
Sharon nodded, satisfied with the response. "Great, then let's get some food into you. I have some great clothes you can choose from for the party tomorrow. The dress you had on tonight was to die for."
Chanel tried not to roll her eyes as Sharon continued chattering away on their walk back to the kitchen.
"Sorry," Chanel mumbled when she passed Sam and reclaimed her seat between him and Zemo.
"You good?"
"Yup, girl talk solved it." She didn't hide her sarcasm.
"Maybe this will cheer you up," Zemo said as he pulled her diamond necklace out of his jacket pocket.
"How did I forget you had that?" Chanel moved her hair out of the way so Zemo could fasten the necklace around her neck. She smiled slightly as the diamonds settled on her chest. "Thanks, Zemo."
"Now, you look more like yourself." Zemo squeezed her shoulder in an odd show of affection before he left the kitchen.
Sharon watched him leave and then turned back to Chanel, handing her a bowl of soup. "So, what's the story there? Those diamonds are—wow. I didn't know Zemo had money like that."
"He's a Baron," Chanel said as she cooled a spoonful of soup. "And there's no story. The necklace isn't from him."
"No?" Sharon glanced in Sam's direction, and he laughed.
"Yeah, right. You know we don't get paid to be Avengers, right?"
Sharon laughed with him, finally letting her guard down a bit. She was glad to have at least one genuine friend around for once. "Okay, well still. When I found you guys, you protected him like—like he was worth protecting. And over your own life at that."
"You didn't seem too put off by making out with him at the bar either. What was that about?" Sam added, to Chanel's annoyance.
"I'm a protective person. And Sam, shut up."
Sharon laughed again, this time sarcastically. "Hun, you do know what he's done, right?"
Chanel finished her soup and stood up. "None of us are innocent. Well, except maybe Sam. He's a goddamn saint. Thanks for the soup. Sam, I'm going to sleep; I'll try to leave space for you."
"I'll be up after a while. I'm going to stay up with Sharon."
"Yup, have fun catching up." Chanel left the kitchen, looking for Bucky. The living room was empty, so she went upstairs and knocked on his door.
"Hey, are you okay?"
His concerned look almost made Chanel forget why she was there. She stayed strong and pushed her way into the room, sitting crisscross in the middle of his bed. "Sharon. Do you trust her?"
Bucky stood at the edge of the bed with his arms crossed. "I don't have a reason to distrust her. She helped Steve when we needed her the most. And it cost her everything."
Chanel wasn't satisfied. "Who shot Selby's guards? That's not suspicious to you?"
"I don't know. Maybe Sharon was following us."
"And you don't think that's weird? Something feels off, right?"
Bucky thought about it for a minute, sitting at the edge of the bed. "Yeah, something feels off. But I never really knew her. I trust Sam's judgment on this one."
Chanel sighed, dissatisfied with his answer. She knew something wasn't right about this woman, but Sam would never listen to her.
"You never answered me. Are you okay?" Bucky reached out to her, and she gave him her hand.
She tugged on his hand, wanting him to move closer to her. He raised an eyebrow, waiting on her response before he gave in.
"Yes, I'm okay."
"So, you just weren't going to tell us that Stephan took the serum?"
"I didn't think it was necessary." She moved closer to him as he pulled away from her. "I know that sounds bad, but I don't know what to do. I don't want anything to happen to him."
"You can't protect him from himself."
Chanel didn't have a response for that. She could see real anger brewing in his eyes, and she sat quietly, letting him talk.
"He did exactly what Zemo said would happen. He made his own army. I disagree with Zemo on most things, but on this, he's right." He paused, searching for the right words as his emotions swirled. He didn't understand why so many people seemed to be treating the serum, the transformation, as if it were of no consequence. Like it was just an enhancement drug any athlete might take when they were desperate. "This isn't something I asked to be. I didn't choose it. If I could, I would reverse it in a heartbeat. Anyone that chooses it for themselves doesn't deserve to have it. Steve was the only exception. He wouldn't have taken it if there hadn't been a war going on."
Chanel could feel the pain in his words, even as he tried to mask it with anger. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I panicked."
"No more secrets?" Bucky tried to ignore the kisses she was planting on his neck and shoulders.
"Bucky, you do remember that I'm a spy, right?"
Bucky rolled his eyes.
So, that's a no.
"There is one more thing. Stephan gave me a vial of the serum. He wanted me to take it, to keep me safe."
He stood up abruptly, knocking Chanel back slightly at the force. Not having an outlet for his rage, he simply paced the length of the room. "Are you serious?" Bucky didn't wait for an answer before muttering under his breath that he was going to kill him.
"Bucky, calm down. It's not like I took it."
"That's not the point. Where is it now?"
"It's safe."
Bucky stopped and stared at her, displeased with her vagueness. "What are you going to do with it?"
"I don't know yet. I don't know who I can trust. You're the only one that knows so far, so mums the word."
Bucky nodded, having no choice but to accept her terms.
Chanel pulled her laptop out of her backpack along with a flash drive. "Now, come here. I need to show you something."
Bucky joined her on the bed as she put the flash drive in the computer. "What is this?"
"I took it off of Selby. I'm hoping there will be something useful on it, about Nagel or the Power Broker."
"You don't want to share this with everyone else because…."
Chanel scrolled through hundreds of files, looking for anything useful. "Because I want to compare any info I find with what Sharon gives us."
"You know she was CIA too…this should be fun and not exhausting at all." Bucky laid back on the bed with an exaggerated sigh.
Chanel ignored him, lost in the files on her screen.
Bucky lost track of time as he laid there watching her work, little hums of interest leaving her lips every now and then. A knock on the door drew his attention away from her for a second.
"Come in," Chanel called.
Zemo walked in, and Bucky sat up, always on edge when in his presence.
Chanel patted his knee. "At ease Sarge, I asked him to join us." She looked away from the screen to greet Zemo with a smile. "Come in, don't be shy."
Zemo sat at the edge of the bed, looking just as uncomfortable as Bucky. Chanel was oblivious to both of them; she was too excited about what she had found.
"You said you had something to tell me?" Zemo prompted.
Bucky frowned.
When did they exchange numbers?
Chanel nodded and jumped up enthusiastically. She stood in the middle of the bed, like an excited tween at a sleepover who's had too much sugar. This made Zemo smile; she was always so engrossing.
Chanel filled Zemo in on the flash drive and how she had found some interesting shipment logs and financial documents.
"You're losing us, doll," Bucky murmured.
Chanel shot him a playful glare. "So, I found Nagel's location. He's working out of a shipping container at the docks. Container 4261." Chanel smiled proudly and flopped back down onto the bed.
"Impressive, draga." Zemo gave her just a hint of a warm smile.
Chanel cocked her head in confusion, "what did you call me?"
"Draga. It means dear in Sokovian, I forget to translate sometimes."
"It sounds better that way." Chanel couldn't deny the chill that went through her when he spoke his native tongue.
"Noted. Should we go then?"
"No, I want to keep this between us for now. I need to see if Sharon is trustworthy. If she gives us false information tomorrow, now we'll know."
"What about the Power Broker? Did you find anything on that?" Bucky asked.
"Not much. A few possible hints. It doesn't appear that Selby knew his identity. What's weird is that any files dealing with the Power Broker only date back to about 2018. I would think someone of this magnitude would have been around for longer than that."
"Good work, doll. Should we tell Sam?"
"Not yet; let's let him enjoy his reunion with Sharon for now. He might actually get laid for once." Chanel snickered as she put her laptop and the flash drive back into her bag and stood up. "Well, that's all I have for you, gentlemen. Until tomorrow." She bid them goodnight and headed for the door, Zemo on her heels.
They walked to her door in silence. Before she entered, she turned to him. "You will wait, right? I'm trusting you, Helmut."
Zemo gave her a look that essentially said, "why?" But not in a manner that insinuated betrayal. It was a more profound question. Why would she include him in her secrets? Why would she act as if they were—friends?
"I will do my best to restrain myself, draga."
"Good enough. As much as I hate to admit it, Sharon might come through with helpful information. We have to play this out."
Zemo nodded and kissed her hand, their usual goodnight ritual.
Sam was already in the room; she had been in Bucky's room longer than she had realized.
"Thought you were going to sleep?" He teased.
"Got distracted." Chanel threw her bag on the floor and joined Sam on the bed.
"Bucky or Zemo?"
"Both."
Sam groaned and rolled his eyes, and Chanel broke into a fit of giggles. "You're too easy to rile up. How was your evening with Sharon?"
The ring of Chanel's burner phone cut off Sam's reply. Before he could tell her not to, Chanel flipped the phone open and answered the call.
Stepan sat at the front of the plane, stewing in rage. His search for the Power Broker had been a colossal failure. Chanel had slipped out of his reach too. He crushed the glass in his hand when he remembered Zemo's hands on her, his lips on hers.
What the hell was she doing?
Manfred had only mentioned James vying for her affection; he hadn't expected an attack from Zemo too.
He had planned on tracking her down and forcing her to leave with him, but he lost one of his men in the fighting. He needed a better plan; he didn't have lives to waste, now he only had two soldiers remaining.
They had a lead on the current location of the Flag Smashers. That's where he would focus his rage now. They could provide two things to him, more serum and information on the Power Broker.
He checked his phone for the hundredth time in the last 5 minutes. The dot still hadn't moved. He didn't understand why Chanel was still in Madripoor. The lack of movement concerned him, and he finally took a risk and dialed her burner phone.
He sighed with relief when she answered on the first ring.
"Schatzi. Where are you? Are you safe?"
"I'm good. We're safe. Where are you? What the hell are you thinking?!"
Her tone made Stephan grind his teeth. He was already losing his patience with her. "I'm fine. I'm trying to take care of our situation," he spat. "What the hell are you doing? Playing whorehouse with your friends?"
"Nice. I'm hanging up now."
"You know better than to hang up on me." Stephan paused, waiting for her response. Upon hearing her huff of submission, he continued, "I want to come get you. Get out of Madripoor, and I'll meet you somewhere safe."
"No. I told you, I'm staying. Why don't you just go home and let us handle this? You're hurting innocent people."
Stephan snapped the phone closed, barely stopping himself from crushing it in his grip. Why does she have to make everything so difficult? All I ever tried to do was take care of her, protect her, love her.
And this is how she repays me?
Chanel sighed as she snapped the phone in half just in case Stephan was tracking it.
"What did he say?" Sam asked warily.
"He wanted me to meet him somewhere. Go home. Called me a whore." Chanel slid under the comforter avoiding Sam's frown.
"Why do you put up with this guy?"
Chanel thought for a moment before meeting Sam's eyes. "Bucky says I loved him."
"Did you?"
"I don't know."
They were both quiet for a moment.
"He told me he loved me before we left. He wants me to come back to Berlin and stay with him. I think that may be my only chance at something that resembles happiness."
Sam laughed, drawing an annoyed look from Chanel. "Yeah, that sounds like a love story, alright. Who do you think will play you in the movie?"
"Shut up." Chanel hit him in the stomach and tried to turn away from him.
"Oh, come on, I'm just keeping it real." He turned Chanel back around and fixed her with a serious stare. "He doesn't love you. The way he treats you-that's not love. And you don't love him. Trust me, you would know. You feel it in every fiber of your being. It's not something you settle for."
Chanel wasn't sure how to feel. Stephan was the only person who had said those three words to her, the real her, not a character, in a very long time. Having that ripped away hurt. But she was somewhat intrigued by Sam's promise that genuine love would feel better than whatever it was she was feeling for Stephan.
"How are you sure I'll know?" Chanel whispered.
Sam shrugged, "I just am. If nothing else, I know that you are meant to be with someone who cherishes you, not someone who treats you like a possession."
Chanel frowned; Stephan did cherish her, even the parts that no one else could possibly love.
"Do you know how I knew I was in love with Leila?"
Leila Taylor was Sam's on-again-off-again girlfriend from New Orleans. Chanel thought they were perfect together, but Sam's work schedule kept them from pursuing anything serious.
Chanel shook her head no. "Tell me."
"I really knew when I realized that I wanted her to be happy, even if it cost me my own happiness. That's why we're not together right now. It's not fair to her. I would rather her be happy with someone else, even if it hurts me to not be the one making her happy."
Chanel rubbed his arm soothingly, and he continued.
"It's not all like that, though. There are little things too. Like I slowly noticed myself becoming interested in the things she was interested in. For no reason other than that, I just wanted to be closer to her. When I'm with her, everything in my world feels stable, and the happiness isn't comparable to anything else; only she can make me feel that way."
"Shit, Sam. Is that why you didn't take Sharon up on her offer?"
"One reason, yeah," Sam laughed. "I don't want anyone else. Even when we aren't together."
Chanel hummed thoughtfully. For some reason, the conversation was starting to make her sad. In the lull, she took the opportunity to change the subject.
"Are you going to tell me why you gave up the shield? I've been waiting for you to bring it up."
Sam sighed, "It was the right thing to do. I didn't know they would turn right around and give it to Walker."
"I just don't understand. Steve gave it to you for a reason. Why wouldn't you be jumping at the chance to take up that mantle?"
"You're starting to sound like Bucky," Sam grumbled.
"I'm not judging. I just want to understand. I can tell it's bothering you."
"I never set out to be a larger-than-life figure like Steve. I was content following his lead."
"You miss him."
"It's not the same without him. I know that sounds stupid. There are more important things than me missing having fun with my friend, but without something to keep you grounded, it becomes really easy to lose yourself in this job."
"It's not stupid." Chanel squeezed his hand, encouraging him to continue.
"Plus, I don't think the world is ready for a Black Captain America. I don't think they ever will be. I never told you about Isiah Bradley."
Chanel sat up, feeling an important story coming on. Sam told her about Bucky taking him to meet Isiah. The latter had been the first Black super soldier but was kept a secret while the government experimented on him, attempting to recreate the super-soldier serum.
Chanel sat back against the headboard. She wasn't surprised by the story in the least. "The horrors never end. I get it now."
Sam nodded in agreement. Having someone who could understand where he was coming from made him feel somewhat better. But deep down, he knew he still needed to get that shield back from Walker.
"But you are absolutely worthy of the mantle. You know that, right?"
Sam blushed, waving off her compliment. "I don't know about that. Steve is impossible to live up to."
"You don't need to be Steve. You are enough." She kissed his cheek and then reached over him to turn the lamp, the last remaining source of light, off. "Now, let's get some sleep."
"Thanks, Chanel. It means a lot to me that you're here." Sam wrapped his arms around her as they drifted to sleep.
Chanel awoke with a start. Her heart was pounding, and she was covered in sweat. Sam was still asleep, so she figured she hadn't been screaming. Careful not to wake him, she tiptoed to the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. When that did nothing but irritate her more, she decided to give in and take the full shower. The cold water helped a little bit, but unpleasant images were still dancing in her head. She pulled on her shorts and a T-shirt and quietly went to Bucky's door.
He answered the door after just a few knocks. "What's going on?" He asked sleepily.
Chanel's eyes raked down his sculpted body. He was shirtless, wearing only a pair of black boxers.
"I can't sleep," she said, her eyes still on his abs.
Bucky opened the door further, allowing her entrance. She noticed his pillow and blanket on the floor and the bathroom light still on but pretended that she didn't.
"Nightmares?" Bucky asked as he sat on the bed and pulled her into his side.
Chanel nodded. "I didn't wake Sam up, though, so that's a win."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No." Chanel ran her hands over his chiseled chest and abs. "You're so pretty. I'm honestly jealous."
Bucky chuckled at that; no one had ever called him pretty before. He didn't know what to make of that.
The bathroom light provided just enough light for Chanel to make out the scars on his chest and left shoulder and for her to notice his flinch when her hand got close to them.
"Does that hurt?"
"No, I just—I don't like it."
Chanel frowned, "I have scars that provide unwelcome memories too." She kissed his shoulder gently. "And before you ask, no, I don't want to talk about it."
Bucky smiled; he didn't expect any less. "Do you want a distraction?"
"Yes, please." Chanel could already feel her excitement growing, and she was just sitting next to him; he hadn't put a single finger on her yet.
"I can do that," Bucky whispered against her lips before kissing her, slower than the last time.
He pulled her shirt over her head and laid her back on the bed, his lips leaving slow but scorching kisses down her neck and over her chest. He was clearly intent on taking his time; Chanel was panting for more as his tongue teased her nipples.
"Patience, doll," He muttered against her skin.
His hands moved down her sides and slowly pulled her shorts off. He sat up to look at her, and even in the low lighting, his heart stuttered at the sight.
"It's really unfair that you're this fucking beautiful."
His fingers lightly traced a large scar on her thigh. He wondered if that was the one she had been talking about and how she got it but was distracted when she lifted her leg onto his shoulder, attempting to push him down to her. Bucky smirked as he slowly kissed her from her ankle up to her hip bone.
"Jesus, Barnes," Chanel huffed.
Bucky stopped, giving her a slight frown. "You only call me that when you're annoyed with me."
"I am annoyed with you, fucking tease."
Bucky chuckled and started to pull her underwear down; she lifted her hips expectantly, and he stopped.
"Say my name," he commanded.
His warm breath washed over her core, making her dizzy with want. "Fuck, Bucky, please."
He gripped her hips, replacing the bruises on her body with his own, as she writhed and shuddered under his tongue. She was sure she was waking everyone up, but she didn't care. She hadn't felt this good in a long time.
He kissed her lips again as she came down from the clouds. Chanel could feel his impatience beginning to break through as her hands roamed over his large frame. She took advantage of it and rolled him onto his back, straddling his hips. She moved her lips back to his, "I need you."
Bucky tried to sit up, but she pushed his chest down, signaling that she was taking control now. He let her, losing himself in the beautiful noises she made and the mesmerizing bounce of her curves every time his hips met hers. This time was different. They weren't in a hurry. There was no frustration or adrenaline from nearly dying coursing through their veins. All that passed between them was desire, need, and pleasure.
When they finished, Chanel collapsed next to him. "Fuck, for a 106-year-old man, you sure do know what you're doing." Her heart hammered in her chest as she came down from yet another high.
Bucky pinched her thigh, making her yelp. "That's what you get for calling me old." He kissed her through their laughter and then wrapped his arm around her torso, pulling her into his chest.
Bucky could have stayed there forever, listening to her gentle breathing, feeling her soft skin pressed against him. No thoughts rattling around in his brain. But Chanel forced herself to sit up after a few minutes, breaking the spell.
"Well, I've been effectively distracted. I should have no issues going to sleep now." She crawled out of bed and started redressing.
"You could just stay here." Bucky sat up, putting his own clothes on, trying not to sound desperate.
"That's against the rules."
"Rules?"
"Of friends with benefits. No staying the night."
"But you're friends with Sam, and you sleep with him all the time."
"Yeah, but he doesn't fuck me first." Chanel laughed and kissed his cheek before she left the room.
Bucky stared after her, confused.
Is that typical? Am I expecting too much?
He sighed and settled back onto the floor, opening Google on his phone. He scrolled through article after article, page after page on the term friends with benefits. None of it provided any clarification. He half thought about watching a movie with the same title but decided that would be too pathetic. He shut his phone off and tried to go back to sleep, hoping for a dreamless night.
Stephan was still staring out his window angrily, considering calling Chanel back to try and reason with her some more.
"Boss?"
Stephan turned in the direction of his men, who sat behind him.
"We got a hit. It looks like Karli is heading to a GRC supply depot in Vilnius. We'll be there in a couple of hours."
"Excellent."
Stephan threw the burner phone into his bag and settled back into his seat. Everything would be okay; he just needed to take what he needed from Karli.
He watched the lights of the cities below him as they flew through the air. A backup plan was forming in his mind. If he couldn't get Chanel to leave her friends, he would have to get them to leave her. He opened his laptop and pulled up a file full of videos. He clicked on the most recent one and watched Chanel fire rounds into Nicolo. Opening another, he smiled.
One of my favorites.
He watched Chanel straddle the lap of a whimpering, bloodied man before slicing her knife across his throat.
If she wants to continue to be difficult, I'll remind her who she is.
He paused the video on a frame of her pretty eyes, looking for his own, searching for approval.
Mine.