AN: It is what it is, and I will not apologize.

Title Song: The Sound by The 1975

Chapter 14: I Know the Sound of Your Heart

A chill in the air roused Chanel from her sleep. She burrowed deeper under the blanket and closer to Bucky's side. But once she was awake, she couldn't go back to sleep. She debated leaving before Bucky woke up and realized she was still there.

That's what I should do.

She watched the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

Yes, I should leave. Get up.

Her body refused to listen. As she watched Bucky sleep, she realized that the usual morning dread was absent from the pit of her stomach.

She briefly wondered if that had anything to do with Bucky but quickly brushed the thought off.

It has to be because I finally talked to Sam. That makes more sense.

A while later, Bucky woke up, surprised to find Chanel's gentle eyes watching him. He blinked a few times, making sure he was actually awake.

"Good morning," Chanel whispered with a smile that made Bucky's heart flutter in his chest.

"You stayed?"

"Seemed like you needed it."

As Bucky woke up more, he noticed her appearance. "Is that my shirt?"

Chanel had taken it after he had fallen asleep. She didn't want to leave him for too long, but she had still been in her jeans. The blue long sleeve henley hung around her loosely, just barely brushing the top of her thighs.

"Yeah, I hope that's okay. I didn't—" Chanel's explanation was cut off when Bucky's lips crashed into hers.

"It's more than okay." He sat up so he could fully appreciate the way she looked in his clothes. He tried not to look at the bruises on her neck that were partially hidden by her necklace. His hand caressed her leg, pushing the hem of the shirt up to her hip, sparking a fire inside both of them.

"I think you might be the death of me, doll," Bucky murmured between the soft kisses he planted on her legs.

Chanel giggled and pulled his lips back to hers. He set a slow pace, taking his time and putting emotion into every movement of his lips and tongue against hers.

Chanel's body hummed in response.

If this is how I get to wake up, maybe sleeping together isn't so bad.

Chanel ran her fingers through his soft hair, smiling against his lips when she remembered their conversation about castor oil. She broke away to catch her breath, and his lips immediately latched on to the sweet spot on her neck.

"Fuck," she sighed and then gasped as Bucky slowly entered her. "My White Wolf woke up hungry this morning," she pulled him tighter against her body and felt him twitch in response to her words.

"You have no idea what you do to me, doll," Bucky whispered against her lips as he slowly started taking her apart.

Whatever was left of the façade he had been keeping up, pretending he was fine just being friends with her, was completely gone now. The previous night, combined with waking up next to her, wearing his shirt, was too much. He couldn't lie to himself anymore; he wanted her, even if he felt like he didn't deserve it.

Maybe I do, though.

Maybe I've tortured myself long enough.

Maybe I deserve to be happy.

Chanel had been with Bucky several times now, but this time felt different. He wasn't just fucking her; she could practically feel his heart pouring out with every thrust of his hips. She could see the adoration in his eyes as she came around him. As if pleasing her was his only goal in life.

Bucky sped up his thrusts as he chased his own release. His fantasy of Chanel being his, waking up like this every morning, taking care of her every need, was spurring him on. But the diamonds around her neck kept pulling him out of the daydream. Every time they had sex, the diamonds reminded him that she wasn't his and never would be. Without thinking, he ripped the necklace off of her neck, breaking it and sending diamonds scattering across the room.

"Bucky!" Chanel's cry of anger soon turned into one of pleasure. With the necklace gone, a switch had flipped, and Bucky quickly brought her to release again, in time with his own.

"What the fuck, Barnes," Chanel sat up as she caught her breath.

"I couldn't stand looking at that anymore."

"I would have taken it off if you just would have asked," Chanel grumbled under her breath.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking."

Chanel started to say something snarky, but his hand gently caressing her hip took all of the fight out of her. She sighed and laid back down next to him.

"Lucky for you, that was hands down the best sex of my life."

Bucky's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Oh really? The best of your life?"

"Don't get too cocky; I'm surprised too. We didn't even do anything crazy, but god, it was like I could feel you everywhere. Like I probably could have gotten off just from the way you were looking at me. I don't know what your secret is, but I've never felt anything like that before."

"And you expect me not to get cocky?"

Bucky's smile was wider than Chanel had ever seen it, and it pleasantly twisted her insides. "You're the worst." She shoved him away playfully and started to get up.

Bucky pulled her back into his chest. "Not yet; it's too early," he grumbled, his voice muffled by her hair.

He was so warm and inviting; Chanel didn't protest. "Fine, but can we at least move to the bed now? This floor is killing my back."

She had barely finished speaking before Bucky had lifted her off of the floor and thrown her onto the bed. She landed with a small yelp of surprise.

"Why is everything you do so fucking hot?"

Bucky gave her a quizzical look as he threw the blanket over her and joined her side.

Chanel rolled her eyes at his unawareness. "I like when you throw me around. Remember that."

Bucky laid his head on her chest and wrapped his arm around her waist. "Noted, doll," he mumbled. After one deep breath, he was already half asleep, a small smile on his lips as he realized her scent would be mingled with his next time he wore the henley.

Chanel and Bucky were still holed up in his room. After they had slept some more and both got dressed, they decided to stay in bed and watch tv. Cuddling and giggling. Neither of them wanting to break the perfect fantasy world they were living in.

Eventually, loud banging on the front door forced them to get up. They could hear Zemo's and Sam's muffled voices arguing with someone.

Chanel heard her name, and she rolled her eyes in annoyance.

She and Bucky emerged, all eyes turning towards them. Stephan was there, looking livid yet worried.

"See, I told you, she's fine." Sam motioned to Chanel.

"What are you doing here?" Chanel didn't approach Stephan; she stayed at Bucky's side.

Stephan didn't miss how she had effectively aligned herself with the other side of the room against him.

"I thought you were hurt. Where's your necklace?"

Chanel furrowed her eyebrows; his words didn't make any sense. "My necklace? Stephan, how did you know where I was? I broke my burner phone; you couldn't have been tracking it."

"You didn't answer my question. I got a distress signal."

"It's broken," Bucky answered flatly.

Stephan's eyes flashed to him angrily and then back to Chanel.

"Wait a second." Chanel took a step toward him. "Did you put a fucking tracking device in my necklace?!"

"How else was I supposed to keep tabs on you? You don't answer your goddamn phone. I set the tracker to send a distress call if the necklace was broken. Jesus, I thought you were dead." All worry gone, Stephan was simply livid. "I should have known, a slut like you, that it would be something like this." Stephan waved his hand in Bucky's direction.

Before Chanel could get a word out, Bucky's fist smashed into Stephan's jaw. Stephan had been so focused on Chanel that Bucky had taken him by surprise, the punch knocking him back a few feet and drawing blood.

Sam and Zemo couldn't help but smile; they had all been wanting to hit him since they first met him.

"Talk to her like that again, and I promise it'll be the last words you ever say."

Chanel thought she had seen Bucky mad before; she was wrong. His face was perfectly calm, but his eyes were black holes filled with violent promises. She almost hoped that Stephan would say something else to her, just to see what Bucky would do.

But as Stephan edged closer to Bucky, she put herself between them, intending to serve as a neutral party, but her body language was clear. She stood in front of Bucky protectively, it was unconscious, and Stephan knew then that he had lost her.

She was close enough to him now that Stephan noticed the bruising around her neck. "Did he do that to you too?"

Chanel ignored him; she could feel Bucky shrinking back. "You need to leave. Now."

"I'll take that as a yes. I knew it; I knew he wasn't safe to be around you."

Chanel snapped, shoving Stephan backward toward the door. She wanted to do more. She wanted to knock him to the ground, hit him as hard as she could, curse him out at least. But she was trying to be better. She would be better.

"I don't love you. I never will. Now you need to leave." Her voice was low and serious, barely audible to the men behind her.

"We'll see about that, Schatzchen."

He ran his thumb over her lips, and she twisted away from him in disgust. He smirked at her before he turned his back and stalked out, slamming the door behind him.

"So, what's for breakfast?" Chanel fixed a smile on her face as she turned to face her friends.

"Whatever you want, draga. Your wish is my command." Zemo motioned for her to follow him to the kitchen, which she did happily.

Sam shot her a wary glance as she passed. He wanted to ask about the bruises Stephan had pointed out but decided against it. Seeing her finally stand up to Stephan was enough to put him in a good mood for the rest of the day. Plus, he was about to enjoy the next few minutes of embarrassment he had in store for Chanel.

While the others settled in the kitchen, Sam veered off to his guest room and dug a small package out of his bag. With a cheeky smile on his face, he found the candles he had bought and headed back to the kitchen.

She's going to hate this.

Chanel had requested pancakes, and Zemo quickly busied himself in the kitchen, granting her wish. She rested her chin in her hand and smiled as she watched him; it was still funny to her to see him so normal. Just a few days ago, he had killed a man and blew up a gas tank to help them escape Madripoor. But here he was, in lounge pants, a white t-shirt, and multicolor stripe socks flitting around the kitchen with confidence.

"What's so funny, draga?" Zemo could feel her eyes on him before he looked up at her.

"You. So many people fear you, but—" Chanel waved her hand vaguely in his direction, and Zemo knew what she meant.

He felt the same way about her, sitting in his kitchen sipping coffee as if it was her usual morning routine. Before he could voice it, Sam interrupted, calling Chanel's name in a sing-songy voice.

Bucky swiveled around to see why Sam sounded so excited; he didn't like it.

Chanel's face dropped when she saw the candles and small box in Sam's hands. "Sam, no!" She got up to stop his approach, but he danced around her, laughing at her face. "I'm warning you. Stop this now." Chanel glared at him, but her eyes held more panic than anger.

Sam continued into the kitchen, setting the candles down by the stack of pancakes Zemo was making.

"What are you two going on about?" Bucky finally asked.

Sam started to open his mouth, and Chanel warned him to shut up again. "Sam, I swear to god, I'll—"

"I'm not scared of you. Now quit being a drama queen and come open your birthday gift."

Chanel groaned and covered her face when Zemo and Bucky turned to her with surprised looks on their faces.

"She hates her birthday. But that doesn't stop me from trying to make it pleasant," Sam explained as he placed a few candles in the pancakes.

Zemo handed him a box of matches and motioned for Chanel to rejoin them in the kitchen. Begrudgingly she shuffled back to her seat next to Bucky.

"You weren't going to tell me it was your birthday?" Bucky frowned.

"Don't start," Chanel turned serious, pointing her finger at him. "Under no circumstances are you to give me any kind of gift, no surprises, no grand gestures, nothing." The smirk on Bucky's face told her he wasn't listening. "In fact, it's best that you just don't leave the house at all today. You can't be trusted." She turned to Zemo. "That goes for you too."

Zemo smiled. "Am I under house arrest as well?"

"Yes, you all are."

"It's rude to not give a gift to a friend on their birthday," Zemo countered.

"He's right," Bucky chimed in. "If Sam gets to give you a gift, I want to also."

Chanel rolled her eyes; Bucky agreeing with Zemo was too much for her to handle.

"You already made me breakfast, Zemo. That counts."

Zemo didn't look pleased, but he agreed anyway.

Chanel turned to Bucky, licking her lips. "And you already gave me multiple gifts this morning." She giggled at Bucky's blush, her own little gift to herself.

"Moving past that, will you open your gift now?" Sam impatiently pushed the box toward her.

"How about this? I will allow you all to watch me blow out the candles, but no singing. And Sam, I will open your gift. In return, we drop the subject entirely for the rest of the day. Agreed?"

They all nodded their agreement, even though they were all devising ways to ignore her request.

Sam lit the candles and placed the stack of pancakes in front of her. A chorus of subdued but warm "Happy Birthday" wishes filled the air. She gave them all a thankful smile before blowing out the candles.

She really did hate her birthday; she had no memories of good birthdays as a child when they really mattered. All the other girls at school would have fun parties in the park and sleepovers when they got older. There was cake and balloons and games, and so many gifts. Chanel had only been invited to a few; she was invited less and less as she grew older. Her sour attitude and jealous glares tended to bring down the mood. Even the poor kids had better birthdays than her; their mom's scrimping and saving for weeks ahead of time to buy them one gift that all the other kids would be jealous of. And their grandmothers baked cakes that tasted like love.

Sam had always attempted to make the occasion special. And secretly, she wanted to like it. People doting on her, giving her things, a whole day devoted just to her; it was all right up her alley. But the concept of what a birthday was, what it could be, had been ruined too early in her childhood. She had still been stuck there. Still feeling like the little girl who had to share one stale piece of cake with the other kids in her foster home who also had October birthdays.

Chanel finally took the small box from Sam. "When did you even find time to get me a gift? I would have thought being on an anti-terrorism mission would have been enough to make you forget."

"You're not the only one that can be sneaky around here."

Chanel opened the box and found a small silver ring intricately engraved with flowers.

"Sam, it's beautiful; I love it." Chanel gave him a genuine smile as she slipped the ring on and held her hand out for him to see.

"It's supposed to be good luck." Sam's pleased smile grew when she jumped off her barstool to wrap him in a hug.

"Thank you. Now no more mentions of my birthday." Chanel returned to her seat to shovel pancakes in her mouth.

Bucky looked at Sam, who gave him a reassuring nod. None of them were going to follow her rules.

"Sam, this better not be a distraction. This feels like a distraction." Chanel glared at Sam as they wandered around the city.

"This may surprise you, but not everything is about you. We are here to work, remember?"

"How long are we going to follow this stupid app? These pings are weeks old; I don't know what you are expecting to find," Chanel grumbled.

Sam had asked her to go with him to check out old Flag Smasher meeting locations. They had been at it for hours, and she was growing suspicious. She also had a weird anxious feeling in her stomach that she couldn't explain. Her thoughts were consumed with Bucky and what he might be doing back at Zemo's house.

"As long as it takes. Come on, there's only two more left."

"They're on completely opposite ends of town," Chanel groaned. "Can we at least take the train?"

"No, we might miss something along the way."

Sam couldn't help but smile at Chanel's annoyance. If she wasn't so difficult about her birthday, there would have been no need for him to distract her like this.

As they continued their journey, Chanel took the opportunity to talk to Sam about something that had been bothering her.

"I have a birthday request."

"I thought we weren't talking about your birthday anymore."

Chanel rolled her eyes, "we can talk about it right now."

"What's your request?"

"Can you talk to Zemo?"

"What did he do?"

"He didn't do anything. You did. The other day...you and Bucky didn't even flinch when he mentioned the memorial in Sokovia. Have you ever even told him that you were sorry for what he lost?"

Sam froze; a flash of annoyance crossed his face.

"I know you weren't a part of what happened," Chanel hurried to continue, "but still, he's human too. The least you could do is empathize."

Sam frowned but continued walking. "You know he's not your friend, right? He can make as many pancakes as he wants, but he's still a terrorist."

"Sam, come on, I know you don't see things that black and white. Please, for me? He's in pain. Pain that I understand, and you probably do too, if you take a second to think about it."

Sam did take a second to think about it. She was right, and he could see how earnest she was. He relented. "Fine, for your birthday. Did you give this speech to Bucky too?"

"Not yet, but don't worry, I will." Chanel smiled and squeezed his hand in appreciation.

Finally, Sam's phone buzzed with a text from Bucky. It was safe for him to bring Chanel back to Zemo's apartment.

"You know, I think you're right about this app. I'm beat; let's head back."

"Finally," Chanel sighed. "Can we please take the train now?"

"Sure thing," Sam chuckled.

Chanel was wary when they arrived at the apartment. She steeled herself for what she might find inside.

Upon entering, the house was quiet except for the muffled voices of Bucky and Zemo in the kitchen. There was a delectable smell floating through the air that made Chanel's stomach growl and propelled her into the kitchen.

She and Sam walked in on the tail end of an argument, and Zemo and Bucky turned to them with tight-lipped smiles.

Bucky was surprised when Chanel went straight to him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Hey doll, how'd it go?"

"It was a waste of time and exhausting," she sighed.

She stayed there, attached to him as they all talked. He was almost certain this should have been against her rules, but he certainly wasn't going to point it out.

The anxiety Chanel had felt since Sam drug her out of the house melted away as she inhaled the leathery scent of Bucky's cologne. She wasn't consciously aware of her actions as she clung to him; it just felt right.

Zemo explained that he was cooking her one of his favorite Sokovian dishes, and dinner would be served soon. He shooed her, Bucky, and Sam out of the kitchen so that he could finish his work.

Chanel led Bucky to the couch, and Sam excused himself to wash up for dinner and give Bucky some privacy.

"So, why did you have Sam keep me out of the house all day? Tired of seeing me already?"

"Never." Bucky placed both of his hands lightly on her face and kissed her gently. Another rule broken, but he didn't care. He had missed her all day. "No big surprises, I promise. But I did get you something."

Chanel groaned, "Bucky, you promised, no gifts."

"I lied," Bucky smirked and handed her a small box.

Despite her moaning, Chanel didn't hesitate to take the box and open it.

Inside she found a silver chain necklace with a small amber sun charm. She was immediately reminded of the night that Bucky told her she lit up every room she was in. She stared at it in awe, stunned into momentary silence. Bucky took this as a bad sign.

"It's okay if you don't like it. Amber is really popular here, and it reminded me of you."

"Bucky, I love it."

He could tell she was being genuine because he had never seen her smile look quite so radiant. Until now, he hadn't realized how her smile rarely met her eyes.

"Here, put it on me." She handed him the necklace and gathered her hair to the side so he could fasten it around her neck.

"Perfect," Bucky whispered, not even looking at the necklace when he said it. He was still looking at the sparkle in her eyes.

Chanel jumped up to find a mirror and agreed with his assessment. She rejoined him on the couch and gave him a tight hug. "Thank you. I'm not used to getting gifts on my birthday, other than from Sam, and this—it really means a lot."

"You're welcome, doll. I figured I owed you a new necklace anyway."

They both laughed and settled into easy conversation as Sam joined them.

"I'm starving. I'm going to go check on Zemo and get a drink." Chanel went to the kitchen and appraised what Zemo had prepared.

"What kind of wine do you recommend?" She asked as she got wine glasses out of a cabinet.

"This one," Zemo pulled a new bottle of Pinot Noir out of a bag. "I bought it just for tonight."

Chanel opened the wine and poured them both a glass. "You and Bucky don't know how to follow rules."

Zemo simply shrugged and continued his work.

"Can I ask you for something else, for my birthday?"

Zemo looked at her expectantly, ready to grant her every wish.

"Will you talk to Bucky?" Chanel sighed when he looked away from her. "At least try? I think it would mean a lot to him. I know you're in pain too, but Bucky didn't have anything to do with that. Please? It could be your gift to me."

Zemo hummed in dissatisfaction as he tried to avoid the pleading eyes she was fixing on him. He knew she was right, but it didn't come easy for him.

"For you, draga, I will try." He crossed the kitchen and returned with a gift bag. "But, I already got you a gift."

"Seriously, why do I speak if no one listens?" Chanel rolled her eyes but laughed as she opened the gift from Zemo.

"This is interesting...what is it?" Chanel turned a small black figurine over in her hand, trying to make heads or tails of it. "It looks like a demon."

"It is. These figurines are very popular in Riga. They are thought to represent benevolent demons that are easy to defeat. It reminded me of you for several reasons. I hope it will remind you that no matter how dark you think things might be, you've defeated worse."

Chanel was surprised; she hadn't expected anything from Zemo, much less something so thoughtful. "Wow, I—it's perfect. Thank you, Helmut."

Zemo kissed her cheek, "you're welcome," he whispered.

Chanel brought her wine glass to her mouth to stop herself from wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him. She blamed the wine and her giddiness for such a stupid thought; she had vowed to not let that happen again.

"You can let the dynamic duo know that dinner is ready."

"Excellent." Chanel finished her wine before going to fetch Bucky and Sam.

"Hey, Bucky! Bucky," Chanel yelled even though Bucky was right across from her.

"I'm right here, doll." Bucky laughed when she plopped down next to him; she was already tipsy and looked so happy.

After dinner, she had made another birthday request; it was a simple one, she wanted to drink, and she wanted them all to hang out together. She felt bad that Bucky couldn't feel the effects of the alcohol, so Zemo had taken her to a market after dinner, where they found an old liquor that was rumored to be for gods. They figured it was worth a try.

Now, Sam was nursing a beer, refusing to lose his wits, and Zemo tried to keep up with Chanel's drinking. Bucky was sipping on the liquor that Zemo had bought for him; he thought he could kind of feel it but figured it was probably all in his head; either way, he felt good.

"I have to tell you a secret," Chanel whispered loudly.

"What is it?"

"It's embarrassing." Chanel covered her face with her hands. "When I was in middle school, we had to watch a documentary about World War II, and you and Steve were in it."

"Oh god, I forgot about those," Sam chimed in, already laughing at the joke he knew was coming.

Bucky raised his eyebrows; he never knew there were films made with him in it, especially not ones they would show in schools. It was a weird feeling.

"All of the girls were in love with you."

That surprised him even more. "Me? What about Steve? He was Captain America."

"I mean a few of them, but most of us thought you were the hottest thing we had ever seen."

"I can't believe I forgot about that. Now I understand why I hated you as soon as we met," Sam laughed. "The girl I had a crush on in school only wanted to talk about you for like a week straight."

Bucky mouthed a "wow" and chuckled to himself. It was fitting that he was annoying Sam from beyond his proverbial grave.

"Anyway," Chanel turned the attention back to her. "I would get mad because I liked you the most. I remember punching a girl once and getting suspended because she had written 'Mrs. Barnes' on her notebook and wouldn't erase it."

Zemo snorted, and Chanel almost looked embarrassed but giggled anyway and kept going.

"I can't wait to go back home and rub it in those bitches faces that I got you after all."

Bucky almost choked on his drink. She said it nonchalantly and then jumped up, talking about playing a game as if what she said held no deeper meaning. But to him, it was everything. The way she had acted when she came back from working with Sam as if it had exhausted her to be away from him; the way she had looked at him after he gave her the necklace...and now she was talking about him as if he belonged to her; talking about wanting to take him home.

Maybe she is feeling the same way.

"We can play a game, but first, we have one more surprise left," Sam said as he jumped up to head to the kitchen.

He returned carrying a chocolate cake with one big candle right in the middle.

"I left these two in charge of making it, so I hope it tastes good," Sam joked.

Chanel's eyes were wide as she looked between Bucky and Zemo. "You baked me a cake? Like from scratch?"

"You're stirring it too hard." Zemo clamped his hand around Bucky's forearm, stopping his actions. "It's cake batter, not a hostile enemy."

Bucky glared at him and started mixing the batter again at an exaggeratingly slow pace. "I'm sorry, I was picturing your face," he said sarcastically.

"Do you do that quite often?" Zemo snickered at Bucky's glower.

Bucky rummaged through Zemo's cabinets huffing in annoyance when he couldn't find what he was looking for. "Where is the cinnamon?" He finally asked.

"Cinnamon? You don't need cinnamon."

"Nevermind, I found it." Bucky snatched up the spice bottle and went back to his bowl.

Zemo ripped the bottle out of his hand just as he was about to add it into the cake batter.

"Hey!"

"James, where is the recipe card that I gave you?"

"Right here." Bucky waved the card in Zemo's face.

"Please show me where it says to add cinnamon."

"It doesn't; I'm improvising."

Zemo closed his eyes in frustration. "My grandmother created this recipe, James. It is perfect. It does not require improvisation."

Bucky snatched the cinnamon back from Zemo, slowly shaking it into the cake batter while glaring at him. He was pleased when he saw the anger on Zemo's face; finally, he was getting under his skin for a change.

"When she hates it, you won't feel so cocky." Zemo huffed and left him to finish the cake by himself.

Zemo shrugged, "it was nothing, though James doesn't know how to follow a recipe."

"I love you guys so fucking much," Chanel choked out as tears started streaming down her face.

As she blew out a candle for the second time that day, something inside of her healed. The little girl who had felt unwanted, unloveable, unimportant, finally felt at home.

Sam and Bucky had stopped drinking and bowed out of the many games Chanel had come up with for them to play. They were having their own conversation on the couch while Chanel sat on the ottoman across from Zemo, playing 2 truths and a lie. Bucky watched them, amused as they tried to out deceive each other. His good mood was only partly due to the alcohol, which had been surprisingly effective. He was busy daydreaming about Chanel and their potential life together.

Does she still want the house in the suburbs? What about the kids?

He would give her whatever she wanted.

He knew he had to tell her how he felt. And that meant he needed to come clean about what he knew. He just had to find the right time.

"Hey man, are you even listening to me?" Sam snapped his fingers in Bucky's face.

Bucky pushed his hand away. "You know that's very rude."

"So is ignoring me."

"Sorry, what were you saying?"

"I asked if you wanted to come visit me in NOLA after we're done with this. I think you would like it. You could meet Sarah and my nephews."

Bucky was surprised by the invitation, and for some reason, it made him nervous. "Oh—uh yeah, I could probably do that. I've never been."

Their conversation was interrupted by Chanel's declaration that she had won the game and was ready to go to bed.

She pointed at Bucky and then at Zemo. "One of you needs to take me. Bucky's probably tired of me by now. We should give Zemo a turn anyway."

Bucky just stared at her, not sure what to say, if anything. He looked over at Sam, silently asking him to step in.

"Chanel, come on, I'll take you upstairs," Sam offered.

Chanel ignored him and turned her full attention back to Zemo. She slid off the ottoman and sat in front of him on her knees. Zemo sat back in his chair, trying to retreat from her. She started to slide her hands over his thighs, but he stopped her, grabbing her wrists and holding them in the air.

"No. You're drunk," he told her sternly, his own alcohol-laced breath fanning her face.

Chanel inhaled sharply as his hands tightened around her wrists. She continued to ignore Sam's attempts to get her attention.

"Please, daddy," Chanel begged, causing Zemo's eyes to darken a shade.

"Ok. That's it. I'm taking you to bed." Sam stood up and grabbed Chanel off the floor, carrying her bridal style up to their bedroom.

Zemo sat back in his chair and made eye contact with Bucky; he shrugged and continued sipping his drink as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. Bucky was irritated by his demeanor.

Is he just fucking with both of us?

This is all a game to him.

Bucky started to leave the room before starting a fight with Zemo, but Zemo called out to him.

"What, Zemo?" Bucky huffed.

"Please, sit back down. Chanel asked me to talk to you. It was a birthday request. You wouldn't deny her, would you?"

Bucky sighed and sat back down on the couch. "Okay, what is it?"

Zemo tapped his glass nervously. "I believe that I owe you an apology."

Bucky snorted, "for what? The cake? I knew she would like it." Zemo didn't respond, and Bucky's eyes went wide. "Wait, you didn't tell her, did you?!"

"No, of course not. Chanel has made me realize that I owe you an apology for what I did to you—it wasn't fair."

Bucky sat back, genuinely stunned.

"I knew. I knew everything they had done to you, and looking back now, I can empathize with the man you were then. How scared you must have been. I just didn't care at the time. I couldn't see it."

"You said I was a means to an end."

Zemo looked up, surprised that those words were the ones Bucky was bringing up. He was even more surprised by the hurt he heard in Bucky's voice.

"I did. It's a callous thing to say, but it was true at the time. I had nothing against you as James Barnes. But the past is the past, and all I can ask for is your forgiveness for the pain I put you through. The other day I said that the serum corrupted everyone except for Steve Rogers. I was wrong."

Bucky stared at him for a long minute. He didn't want to believe him. This had to be a trick. But, as he stared into Zemo's eyes, he found nothing but regret. Finally, the words he was trying not to say tumbled out. "I forgive you."

Zemo raised his eyebrows, surprised by the forgiveness and by how good it made him feel. He nodded in acknowledgment.

"Chanel really asked you to talk to me about this?"

"She did. She cares for you."

"She cares for you too."

Zemo shook his head, "She is amused by me. She likes to annoy me."

"She's not trying to annoy you; you're just too uptight. She thinks you're her friend. Don't you see that?"

Zemo cocked his head. "So, her being a pain is…friendship? And this is why you think she cares about me?"

Bucky rolled his eyes. "She's not any more of a pain than you are. And I hate that she likes you so much, but I owe you an apology too. She made me realize that I can empathize with you. And I'm sorry that I was insensitive before. I can't imagine the pain you felt after you lost your family; I'm sorry."

"Excuse me." Zemo abruptly stood and left the room, going into the kitchen. He was losing his composure, and he didn't want James to see it.

In the privacy of the kitchen, he let the emotion bubble to the surface. He couldn't remember anyone other than Chanel, who he hadn't fully believed at the time, who had expressed sorrow for his loss. It was overwhelming, and he wiped away a few stray tears as he heard Bucky enter the kitchen.

"Did I say something wrong? I didn't mean to upset you."

"The opposite. You don't know what your words mean to me, James."

Bucky nodded. "Well, then I'm glad I finally got my head out of my ass and said them. I would tell you to call me Bucky, but for some reason, I don't think it would be fitting for you."

Zemo chuckled, "And I don't think it would be fitting for you to call me Helmut. But you can if you would like."

Bucky nodded and started washing dishes while Zemo cleaned the kitchen. After a minute, he cleared his throat. "Um, the kiss."

"You liked it, didn't you?" Zemo dropped a pan into the soapy water and remained at his side. "And that bothered you; why?"

Zemo's body heat and gravelly voice sent a chill down his spine. "I haven't ever had a chance to explore that side of my sexuality. I wasn't even sure until—and I was confused because I was supposed to hate you. Why did you do it?"

"It felt right." Zemo shrugged. "I had already given up trying to hate you."

Bucky thought for a minute, replaying the kiss in his head. It had felt right, but that didn't change the fact that he couldn't get Chanel out of his mind.

"I brought it up because it can't happen again."

Zemo nodded, already understanding. "Are you sure? She's not holding back on your account."

"I know, but I just can't. It doesn't feel right."

Zemo nodded with a smile and went back to work.

Sam gently sat Chanel down on the bathroom tile. "Come on, let's get ready for bed."

He helped her wash her face and then told her to put her pajamas on. He brushed his teeth while she changed clothes.

"Sam," Chanel called.

"Yeah?" Sam's voice was muffled by his toothbrush.

"I love you so much. You're always there for me, and I don't know what I would do without you."

Chanel came back into the bathroom with tears in her eyes. Sam rolled his eyes and handed her her own toothbrush.

"Brush, there's no time for tears."

"Rude." Chanel sniffled but did as she was told.

Sam finished brushing his teeth and then kissed her on the head. "I love you too."

When she was finished with her teeth, he quickly braided her hair and pinned it up on her head. "Where's your silk scarf?"

"Bucky's room."

"Okay, well, this will have to do for tonight. Come on, bedtime."

Chanel followed him and crawled under the comforter. Sam kissed her forehead and told her goodnight.

"Wait, don't leave, please."

"I'll be right back. I have to go help clean up."

"No, please, I can't be alone."

"Fine," Sam sighed and took his shoes off. He laid next to her, and she curled up by his side.

"Thank you, Bucky."

"It's, Sam," he laughed, "now go to sleep."

"Wait, but I have to tell you something."

"What is it?"

"I love you, Bucky."

Sam's eyes went wide.

What the hell—did she just? Holy shit.

Chanel passed out almost immediately. Sam rolled her onto her side and left the room, still shocked about what she had said.

How am I supposed to sit on this until the morning?!

He walked into the kitchen and was surprised for another reason. Zemo and Bucky were cleaning the kitchen and...laughing?

"What the hell is going on in here?"

"We're cleaning; what took you so long?" Bucky threw a towel at Sam so he could start drying dishes.

"I was dealing with a drunk woman, remember?"

"How is she? Did you put her on her side in case she gets sick?" Zemo asked.

"Yes, of course, I did."

"What about her hair? Did you put it up? Her scarf is still in my room. She'll be pissed if she wakes up without it." Bucky started to head to his room to get the scarf, but Sam stopped him.

"Yes, I put her hair up, and she'll be fine without the scarf. Geez. She is my best friend."

Bucky snorted, "someone getting a little possessive?"

"Oh please, like you have any room to talk. Which, by the way, are we going to talk about what I walked in on yesterday? Because what the hell?"

"I'd rather not," Bucky started.

Sam groaned, "you don't get to get out of this one, Buck. I deserve an answer after walking into the room and seeing Zemo's lips attached to yours."

"I'm to blame for that." Zemo chimed in.

"Elaborate."

Zemo shrugged. "It just felt right in the moment. It didn't go any further, and it won't happen again."

"And if you must know, nosy, I think I'm bi." Bucky didn't look at Sam as he said the words, afraid of what he might see on his face.

"You think?" Sam's brain hurt from how much information was being thrown at him.

"I mean, I don't know," Bucky stammered. "I haven't exactly had time to explore that. But I—I liked it when he kissed me. I think it made me finally confront what I already kind of knew was there."

"I'm glad for you, Buck," Sam placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Bucky finally looked up at him and saw nothing on Sam's face; he wasn't surprised or amused. He didn't seem phased at all. Bucky could see no differences in the way that Sam looked at him.

"Thanks, Sam." Bucky nodded appreciatively.

"But you said it won't happen again?"

Bucky shook his head, and Zemo answered.

"As much as I would love to have James on his knees for me—he is good at taking orders when he wants to—he seems to be rather preoccupied with someone else."

Bucky's face was beet red as he avoided Zemo's gaze. Sam looked between the two of them, no words forming for a minute.

"Um—okay, moving past that. That is a good point. Aren't both of you trying to get with Chanel? How are you being so friendly to each other?"

"Chanel is going to do what she wants regardless of what we do. So we'll just let her do as she pleases and hope it works out in our favor. Frankly, my money is on her going back to Stephan after all of this ends."

"You just seem to have all of the answers, don't you, Zemo?"

"He is pretty smart." Bucky chimed in to Zemo's pleasure. "Though, I disagree about Stephan. I think she's finally had enough of him."

Zemo shrugged, unconvinced.

"Well, since we have collectively decided to accept Zemo now, I guess it's my turn. Zemo, I want to apologize."

Zemo wasn't expecting that; he cocked his head to the side in confusion.

"Chanel pointed out to me how callous I've been. That's not usually me, and frankly, I'm embarrassed. I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you, Sam. That means a lot." Zemo nodded and turned away before he started crying again. "I think we are done here, gentlemen."

"Thanks for dinner, Zemo. And the alcohol." Bucky led the way out of the kitchen toward the bedrooms.

Zemo nodded and whispered goodnight to both men before exiting.

"Wait, Buck." Sam stopped Bucky from entering his room.

"What's up?"

"Why don't you go take my spot with Chanel? I think she's passed out hard enough that she won't wake up until the morning."

"You think that's a good idea?"

"I'm her best friend, trust me."

Bucky smiled and shook his head. "Okay, let me get ready for bed, and then my bed is yours."

Bucky clapped Sam on the back when they passed each other to switch rooms. He quietly entered Chanel's room and could barely make out her sleeping form in the dark. He rarely slept with all of the lights off, and he felt a pang of anxiety as he made his way to the bed. It disappeared when Chanel stirred and sleepily called his name.

He climbed into the bed and wrapped his arm around her, burying his face in her neck. "I'm right here, doll."

She sighed and settled into his body, quickly falling back into a deep sleep.

When Bucky woke up, Chanel was still fast asleep. He tried not to wake her as he got out of bed, but he couldn't resist placing a gentle kiss on her slightly parted lips.

Soon. I'll tell her soon.

He left the room and joined Sam and Zemo at the kitchen table. Zemo made him a cup of coffee, and Sam quickly excused himself from the room.

He went and sat on Chanel's bed and waited for her to wake up. He had barely been able to sleep, the anticipation of this conversation making him giddy.

Finally, she opened her eyes to find Sam staring at her with a crazy look on his face.

"Sam, what the hell? What's going on? Where's Bucky?"

"Ouch, I'm not good enough for you anymore?"

"I'm too hungover for this. What has you all energetic this morning?"

"We need to talk. Go wash your face and wake up a bit. Hurry."

Chanel groaned but drug herself out of bed and went to the bathroom. After brushing her teeth and washing her face, she didn't feel much better, but Sam had brought her a coffee, and she accepted it greedily.

"What is it? Did I do something last night?"

"Yes, you said something about Bucky. Do you remember?"

Worry was evident on her face as she tried to remember. "No...did I tell him about the documentary from middle school?"

"You did, but that's not what I'm talking about. Later, after I took you to bed."

"Sam, I don't remember. What is it? You're freaking me out."

Sam sighed. "Fine. I had brought you to bed, and you thought I was Bucky, and you said that you loved me."

"So?"

"You thought I was Bucky…."

Chanel's eyes widened, but then she laughed nervously. "Sam, I was drunk off my ass. That doesn't mean anything."

"Oh no, you're not getting off that easy. You meant it. I could tell."

"You're being ridiculous."

"Am I? The way you were acting yesterday before you even started drinking...something is going on."

"Don't you think I would know if I was in love with him?"

"Honestly? No. I think you're too stubborn."

Chanel rolled her eyes and stood up. "Drop it. I was drunk. It meant nothing. Now leave me in peace so I can shower."

"Stubborn," Sam muttered as he left the room.

Chanel paced around the room.

Did I really say that?

What the hell could have been going on in my head?

Thank god I only said it to Sam. Jesus, I really need to get my head right.

Could I have meant it?

She tried to focus for a minute, searching for the feeling of love, but she couldn't feel anything.

She groaned in frustration.

What does it even fucking feel like?!

Stupid.

Forget about it.

She shook the thoughts out of her head and moved on with her morning. Today they were crashing Dona Madani's memorial; she had more important things to think about.

After getting dressed, she joined everyone downstairs for breakfast.

"So, yesterday was pretty distracting, and I forgot to tell you something."

Sam and Bucky looked at her expectantly.

"Walker and Hoskins are here."

"Figures," Bucky groaned.

"How do you know?" Sam asked.

"Twitter. He's not the brightest. Zemo and I went to spy on him the other night, but it was pretty uneventful."

"Of course you did. Well, let's hope that he stays out of our way." Sam cleared the plates off the table.

"Are we ready to leave?" Zemo asked as he shrugged into his coat.

Bucky nodded, and the group followed him out the door to head to the memorial.

Sam kept shooting looks at Chanel as she walked by Bucky's side. He knew she had meant the three words she had drunkenly said. She had to; in recent years, he had never heard her say those words to anyone but himself and Natasha. Even when she was drunk, she kept that piece of herself on total lockdown, never letting herself be that vulnerable. He vowed to get her to admit it, even if it killed him. Which, knowing Chanel, it very well might.