experienceandpatience

"Shhh," is hissed out at the sound of Zemo. It's too early to wake up when he'd been sleeping perfectly soundly. It isn't until the what the fuck that Zemo starts to stir in confusion. It's the hair that bothers him first.

"Mmph--" Then it's the far more slender hand that comes up when he goes to brush it aside. The wedding ring is about to fall off it, actually, just barely hanging on. He tilts his head, puzzled.

"What?" Pushing himself up, he pushes the sheets down with enough force to send Steve running off. Although he sort of wishes he hadn't, considering he doesn't see his body. He sees breasts and softer curves and-- he doesn't dare move the blankets any lower than that.

All he does is let out an undignified noise before looking at Bucky. It isn't often Zemo is ever speechless, but right now? He can't think of a single thing to say. except maybe-- "What happened?"

Wyoming is cursed now. Everything is changing. For a moment Bucky has to look down at his own body to make sure he hasn't changed either and everything is intact from his body parts to his vibranium arm, and then he's putting some distance between himself and Zemo, shuffling over towards the edge of the bed. There's a dull ache in his hand still which means he isn't dreaming, but he doesn't know what this is.

"What happened?! I don't know what happened! Why are you looking at me like that? What's that on your chest?!" Yes, Bucky is staring at his-- her? tits. "We went to Vegas for Christmas and then we went to Switzerland for New Years and you changed everything about Wyoming!" he accuses, all the bottled up frustration from last night spilling out with his semi-outside voice. "The floor is wrong! There's a whole-- thing! Out that way! And now you!" Why is Bucky the one panting and panicking? Who knows?

"Looking at you like what?" Zemo balks at the accusations that are thrown his way, as if he had any say in what's... happening here. 'Wyoming is still the same! I improved the home we are living in!"

As if that's important right now when Zemo has breasts and probably lacking very important, very usual body parts between his legs. "What are you talking about? I did not ask for this! I was sleeping, James!"

He grabs for the sheets to wrap back around himself -- because Bucky keeps Staring and it's uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable and awkward... and maybe part of him is still a bit upset that Bucky apparently detests their home so much when he'd hoped at least some of it would appeal to the man. "You need to breathe."

He should be the one panicking, not the other way around. But-- here they are. Everything really does feel wrong at the moment. "And stop looking at me!"

"This is practically a new home!" The honeymoon is well and truly over it seems. Oeznik knows better than to interfere in the morning commotion, opting instead to quietly shuffle to the kitchen to prepare breakfast without checking in on the bickering couple.

Bucky will grow to love the place. Give him a few days to join Steve on the sun room floor. For now he's still adjusting. He's still getting used to the fact that places can and will change when he's not looking and it doesn't mean he's lost a chunk of time gone off on a murder spree, and it's not a bad thing when things change for the better.

"Okay! Okay! I'm not! Sorry!" He turns away from Zemo and huffs, running his hands through his hair, keeping his head lowered in some kind of awkward brace position as though they haven't disembarked from the aircraft. He needs a few moments to breathe, gather himself, for his heart rate to drop back down and for him to address the actual situation at hand in a calmer and more composed manner.

"Are you-- otherwise okay?" Bucky asks without lifting his head or turning to look. "I mean. Does anything hurt or...?"

"It is the same home! It is just something we can both thoroughly enjoy!" Was that so wrong, if he was agreeing to stay here with Bucky and live-- whatever sort of life this is? It's frustrating though, the way his voice is pitched higher even to his own ears -- more feminine than he's used to.

... Perhaps he should have warned Bucky about the changes. But sometimes, it's better to ask forgiveness than ask permission -- especially with a hundred year old soldier who resists change often enough.

"How could I be okay?" Zemo has a high tolerance for things happening to and around him, he likes to think. But this? No. Not at all. His body being changed without his consent? It is better than being forcibly given the super soldier serum, perhaps, but it is still not a pleasant way to wake up.

"I'm not hurting. I just feel-- strange." He's still clinging to his sheet when Bucky looks over, but he does hold out a hand. "Hand me a shirt."

"You mean you hated the house before?! Why didn't you say anything!" Bucky complains exasperatedly. They didn't have to stay in Wyoming. He doesn't even dislike the changes all that much beyond the fact that there was some kind of change, so he's not sure why they're arguing.

Bucky, Oeznik and Steve all find the higher pitched voice to be a little strange, but that's the least of their concerns right now. He climbs out of bed and nearly trips over himself with his feet tangled in the sheets before he gets to the wardrobe and looks for the loosest fitting shirt along with rubber-waisted pants, figuring he-- she? will need more room in the chest area and the leg shapes might be all different and the regular pants won't fit so well.

Backing up towards the bed, Bucky places the fresh clothes down and stays standing with his back to Zemo, breathing out a sigh and crossing his arms. This shouldn't feel like it's the worst, really. Zemo's actually kind of pretty. But he suspects the last thing he wants to hear right now is Bucky finding him pretty hot. Things are confusing enough as they are.

"Tell me when you're-- decent."

"I didn't hate it. It needed improvements. I did those improvements, which you seem to hate!" It's a bit laughable that this is even a concern right now. It shouldn't be. The house is changed and either they adapt together or they both miserably yell at each other. The honeymoon certainly is over.

At least the shirt and the pants do seem to fit as he hastily slips them on. That's a positive, isn't it? Not so much the way the legs seem a bit too long and the shirt seems longer than he's used to. "I'm dressed."

Probably far from decently. He huffs and shifts his weight a bit, looks himself over in a nearby window. It's-- strange. He can pick out some of his own features in there, softened and more feminine but still his. But it still doesn't quite feel like he's looking at himself, not really.

"How are you unchanged?" And presumably Oeznik as well, considering there hasn't been any confused older woman busting in yet. The cat is probably still the same, but Zemo isn't keen on catching him to check either.

"None of this makes sense. I was fine when I went to sleep."

"THE FLOOR IS HOT!" Bucky exclaims loudly. He doesn't expect Zemo to understand because he probably wouldn't mind if his bed was suddenly a fair bit warmer, especially in this time of the year. Bucky clearly doesn't like anyone messing with his bed though.

"Shouldn't we be asking what happened to you?" He turns around to look at Zemo studying himself in the mirror. Right now he can't tell if Zemo feels like this is one of the worst things that's happened in the past few months or if it's actually already started to grow on him.

"Are you cold?" Bucky picks up Zemo's purple bathrobe and brings it over to the window, hesitantly draping it over Zemo's narrower shoulders.

"You're. Still-- fine." In all senses of that word. "I mean. If nothing's. Hurting. And. If you can... remember everything from last night." It's probably some kind of weird sorcery thing that's happened and maybe they can change him back. If he wants to be changed back.

"Do you... ... ...like this?" After all that shouting, Bucky is suddenly nicer and gentler to Zemo, hovering in a concerned kind of way. He can't help those deeply entrenched notions of how he should be treating a lady even though Zemo is still Zemo.

"What does that mean? It's warm! Steve enjoys it!" As if that's any sort of argument for or against heated floors. But honestly, it isn't that terrible. It's freezing outside. It isn't his fault Bucky seems immune to being cold... or possibly, he just enjoys the cold. He bites off asking if it's because it's one step closer to cryogenesis. He may be in a bit of a foul mood, but there's no sense in sinking so low.

"It's odd that it is only me. Why would it only target one of us?" That's... worrisome. Or possibly for the best. How can he be certain of anything at the moment? That's possibly what's bugging him more than the breasts or the hair. He isn't steps ahead. He doesn't have a plan for this.

He doesn't get a chance to answer whether he's cold before a robe is draped around him, but he does gladly pull it a little tighter. "Fine."

He's not certain he's fine, but it does get Bucky a bit of a curious look as he rambles on. It's possible that Bucky just makes everything that much more awkward though. He tilts his head, brows furrowing. "Just because I'm not hurting doesn't mean it's fine. How would you feel if you woke up like this?"

He crosses his arms absentmindedly. Does he like this? "Do you like this?"

He shifts his weight a bit, turning to face Bucky properly for right now. It's not easy to miss the change in behavior. Zemo can't decide if it's amusing or frustrating at the moment. "Missing the fairer sex, perhaps?"

A cold floor is not one step anywhere near cryogenesis. Does Zemo even know anything about cryo? God.

"I don't know." Maybe Zemo made a weird bet while he was drunk and staggering around in Vegas. Maybe there was something in the Swiss cheese that he insisted is better than the American plastic stuff he can get. Well, you know what's good about American plastic stuff masquerading as cheese? It doesn't castrate you and grow you a pair of tits overnight.

"How should I know? I only woke up with a metal arm once that weighed like a suitcase of bricks and that was eighty years ago. I was drugged to all hell. He didn't-- cut anything off or stick anything on." Well, beyond amputating the rest of his left arm. Because those are just glued on hair extensions, clearly. Bucky would have taken it much more poorly than Zemo's taking it, that's for sure. But would he be even more miserable than he is now? That's probably not possible.

Bucky crosses his arms defensively, unconsciously mirroring Zemo's posture, tearing his gaze away from that questioning look. It's true, this house is all sausage and beans, but honestly, he's used to that. Who knew that the easy way to get some tenderness out of the soldier was to simply wake up as a woman one day?

"I don't know what you're talking about. You're being weird." Stealing a side-eye at Zemo, his eyes go straight for the tits again before lifting to meet Zemo's gaze, and then Bucky resumes staring as the scowl starts to fall from his face.

"I'll bring you up breakfast, unless you want to explain this to Oeznik. The bed's probably still warm, if you want to sit down."

It's possible he made a terrible bet while in Vegas, but honestly... Bucky was supposed to be making certain he didn't do that. Magic is not something Zemo is familiar with, no more than the aliens who destroyed New York or the maniac who erased half the population. He knows serums and HYDRA and normal things. Not waking up in a foreign body with no clear way back.

But at least the spell didn't steal his dignity. Much. Perhaps there's a tiny part of him that wants to just curl back up in bed and not come out for a good, long time. Life seems rather intent on throwing curves in ways that absolutely make him feel like he'll never get his balance back. His family, the blip... Even Bucky and marriage had been a bit much to process. It still is, for many reasons, and not just because Bucky hates the remodel or won't quit staring at his chest. "I can't live up here."

Eventually, if this isn't fixed within the next hour or so, he will have to venture down and face Oeznik. "We just got back too..."

He'd been looking forward to being... in the closest thing to a home he's had in a very long time. He isn't sure he knows how to even begin hunting down sorcerers who may be able to undo this.

Oh, no. He knows that look, mostly on a woman's face than he does on Zemo's face in particular, but Bucky's shoulders rise as he starts to tense up a bit and he licks his lips nervously, rubbing his palms down the front of his boxer briefs.

"Hey, um. Okay. Let's. Just have breakfast up here. And I'll tell him we're going out. You'll need a pair of shoes at least, if you want to be able to leave the house. And. Underwear, if you want. You can spend the whole day out in town and not worry about any cameras." That's a bright side to look forward to, isn't it?

"I'll make a couple of calls while we're out." Maybe he can get a hold of Wanda. He's not sure. Maybe even Strange. In any case, he'll need a new phone to make the first call, find a way to get in touch with them while circumventing the Americans and the Wakandans.

"I'll tell Oeznik we're having dinner out later, and ask him to have an early night. We can come back and you can enjoy the hot tub. And we'll deal with tomorrow tomorrow. Is that-- okay?"

Zemo isn't aware that he's doing a face really, or if Bucky acting so nice is patronizing or sweet at the moment. Or maybe he's just ready to bristle at anything after the morning they've had. Either way, he sits back on the edge of the bed and looks at Bucky.

"You are acting strange," he points out quietly. "We need to be careful about calls. Your friends have more than enough reasons to want to see me back in prison as well... they may not recognize me like this, but the minute I am back to normal--"

Especially Wanda Maximoff. She may be a fellow Sokovian, but somehow he doubts she feels especially fond towards him.

Either way, there's a reluctant nod. "Fine. Tomorrow."

It isn't as if they have many other choices. "I choose where we have dinner."

"I'm just." Bucky wrinkles his nose, turning away after watching Zemo sit. "...worried about you." Yeah, it's difficult to admit. It's been a stressful morning and Bucky not really liking change hasn't helped matters much. Zemo usually has some idea of what to do, several plans always in motion. It's weird to see him just sitting there like this.

"They'll help," Bucky insists. They're not really his friends, but. They've all been off doing their own thing with the latest world-ending impending disaster behind them. Nobody wants trouble right now.

"We'll do anything you want tonight. I'll just go fetch breakfast for now. Just sit tight." He'll have to make up some stupid excuse that Oeznik won't believe but he's pretty sure he can pull the rest of the day off.

Although oddly enough, there's no protest or complaint when Bucky simply walks into the kitchen and says Zemo's having breakfast in bed, and he'll bring it upstairs. He puts some extra bacon on the plate after Oeznik asks to check his hand before he leaves, and he manages to pass the inspection. To his credit, Oeznik does try to sell the recent changes to Bucky on Zemo's behalf. The house is much better now and he'll come to enjoy all the new features.

Bucky just nods in a way that doesn't really convince Oeznik, but he shoos the soldier off regardless before Zemo's coffee gets cold. Bucky's hoping the nice Swiss coffee with extra servings of bacon he brings back into the bedroom will appease the baron somewhat.

He's not entirely sure what to say about that. Worried about him. He can't really say he's fine just yet. This has been quite... a stressful morning to say the least. He already feels like he needs another holiday, or a drink. He resists the urge to tell Bucky to bring one back, if only so it doesn't worry Oeznik.

He's still feeling a little hesitant to trust magic, or anyone he knows of who can do it. Wanda seemed barely in control of her Hydra given talents and-- well, it's not worth fretting about now. He can at least convince Bucky they should leave Wyoming for this, throw them off their trail if they have to meet up. He should be safe enough for travel like this, even if it's always a concern someone will recognize Bucky along the way.

No doubt they will both likely agree to help, but Zemo is also rather certain there will be law enforcement waiting for him before or after, or Wakandans that will be none too pleased to see the man who murdered their king running free with their wayward soldier.

But those are worries for later.

By the time Bucky returns, at least Zemo has collected himself a little bit. Gotten up to brush his now longer hair into place, cleaned up a bit. At least the smell of coffee and bacon does perk him up somewhat. "Thank you, James."

They can work on their disagreements about the house later, and worry about the changes soon. Now-- he actually is feeling a bit more hungry than he realized. "You know," he starts after a moment, reaching for the coffee once the tray is placed down. "I never thought I would be shopping for women's clothes again, least of all for myself."

Idly he wonders if the others would see Zemo differently if he'd been a woman all along. He can't imagine they would. They'd still find him despicable, an easy target, a scapegoat to pin all their interpersonal problems onto. Bucky is still mapping out those feminine features in his head, like it's the first time he's seen a constellation from a different angle. All the stars are there but not in the right place, or brighter or duller than he's used to seeing.

"Can't help you there, sorry..." Bucky wouldn't even know where to start. He'd happily carry all the bags, as usual, but he's not sure that Zemo really needs to go wild in town. "Maybe you'll change back tomorrow. I don't think you'll need too many things, at least?" They should try and make this more fun and less stressful, although Bucky has never really found clothes shopping to be fun. He just wants to be left alone in a corner and try monochrome t-shirts, but people keep coming up to him trying to help him out, and the store is usually crowded, and he doesn't understand money anymore when everything costs more than 5 cents. But as usual, he disguises his being lost in the 21st century with a casual indifference and an intimidating stare, and hopes for the best.

"Oeznik hasn't suspected anything. We should be able to slip out quietly. He won't mind another day with Steve. I caught him redhanded scratching his cheek and petting him."

A mother avenging her family... Zemo isn't certain what reception that would have received. He's an easy man to hate though, and he'd be an easy woman to hate. It wouldn't change those who would rather pretend they're not capable of evils when they've lost everything they had, everything they loved. It's easy to scoff and condemn when you are not in that person's shoes. But that hardly matters, does it? He will, hopefully, be back to himself soon enough.

Although being a woman would make it remarkably easier to hide amongst the crowd, not have to look over his shoulder all the time to be identified. At least it will help today. "You are far more optimistic, James."

That he will be back to normal by morning. It's a nice hope, but Zemo has learned not to get those too high when it's situations out of his control. Whether it's digging through debris for his family or waking up in another body.

"I told you that he would not actually skin the cat, didn't I?" Oeznik has his soft spots occasionally. He looks up from a piece of bacon he's been nibbling on, meeting Bucky's eyes briefly.

"James, I... do apologize for the changes to the house." He isn't certain Bucky's anger was entirely justified, but he also hadn't intended to make Bucky uncomfortable in what is essentially his home for the time being.

"No, it's-- your place. You do what you want to it." Bucky doesn't really have a right to throw a shitfit about Zemo wanting to fit anything out. It's not like he took a wrecking ball to the whole place. Maybe just a part of a wall to build the sun room, which would really be nice when the weather warms up. Nobody should have to tiptoe across the floor just because Bucky wants to press the side of his face to a cold, hard surface every night.

He moves to sit on the edge of the bed also, wringing his hands while Zemo eats. He declined breakfast himself, but Oeznik insisted on him having at least a slice of toast once he brings the dirty dishes back.

"I just thought-- you'd wanted to go to Vegas for a while. And the mountains. Not-- because you were doing renovations and couldn't be here while people worked."

"It is your place as well. I think it is safe to say that." And no prenup at all during their impromptu Vegas marriage so doesn't that mean a portion is his no matter what? When Bucky joins him, he shifts a little bit to look at him.

"I did want to go to Vegas for a while. The mountains-- ah, well, that was Oeznik's idea." But it had been rather nice in the end. He shifts a little until his shoulder bumps Bucky's.

"Here, eat." He holds up a slice of bacon for Bucky to take expectantly. "Aren't you hungry?"

Bucky grunts and misreads the cue, leaning over to eat out of Zemo's hand and grip the bacon strip between his teeth before clumsily manoeuvring it into his mouth with his tongue and his lips.

"Not really, but thanks." He's a little too stressed out to want to eat right now, but he's taking one piece to appease Zemo.

"Oeznik banished us into the mountains? I guess he's not too happy about the. Vegas thing." Although Bucky enjoyed it more than he's willing to admit. It was picturesque. And lonely. And cold. Zemo had to pack his bag for him or they wouldn't have made it back yesterday.

Zemo actually cracks a smile when Bucky leans over to eat out of his hand. It isn't quite what he meant, but-- it's almost endearing in its own way. His free hand comes up after Bucky eats and confesses he's not really hungry to comb through his hair.

"We had potential law enforcement on our trail... it was practical. You should blame me for it." For making very poor decisions in Vegas, tipping people off... But it's in the past now, he supposes.

"Come on, it is time for a shower, James." it isn't as if Bucky hadn't already gotten quite an eyeful of how he looks now this morning -- and he's afraid that if he doesn't insist, Bucky may skip it entirely.

"Then we'll slip out."

"I liked it. The Alps. Up... until the part where I sliced my hand open. It was quiet, and cold." Colder than here, with a view you couldn't get in many other places. He would have happily traded Wyoming for that, but it's inconvenient to do groceries there, and the place was a little too small for the three and half of them.

Besides, even with the few changes, Steve is used to Wyoming. They shouldn't stress him out with so many changes in his old age.

"A shower? Um... Together?" They've had plenty of showers together before, but. Not with Zemo looking like that. Bucky obviously has more hangups about it than Zemo does.

"If... you're okay with it. I don't mind to wait if you'd rather go alone." Even if it doesn't hurt, it must be strange. If Zemo wants to have a moment to himself exploring all his new... bits, he shouldn't let Bucky interrupt him in the shower.

"That wasn't a very amusing part." Except for when Bucky unceremoniously fell out of bed, perhaps, but even that was brought down by the reopened wound. Easier to think of that than their current state of affairs, really.

"I am glad you enjoyed it, James." And he does mean that. He hadn't even minded the isolation for a bit, the chance to get away and think a bit clearer.

He pauses at the reaction he gets at the suggestion. There's a part of him that's momentarily irritated -- he's not so fragile, and there's nothing so... strange about this. Aside from the parts that are decidedly strange. New curves and parts to get used to. He huffs a little bit before pushing himself up to go towards the bathroom.

"It isn't as if you didn't see quite an eyeful this morning, but... very well, James. Alone, then." A quick shower and then... they'll figure out the rest of the day.

If the government wasn't so adamant on keeping tabs on him he would have happily retreated alone to a mountain range somewhere, building a cabin to live in, and just live out the rest of his days on his own. He's too guilt-ridden to try and break free off on his own and actually do that, but the Alps was more or less a brief manifestation of that fantasy. And, maybe, Bucky's found that he prefers having company than being alone - as long as it's ~~not Sam~~ a certain type of company.

"You had your--... things out," Bucky protests quietly. They were just there. He didn't go looking or tear any clothes off or-- well, hey, what the hell does that mean, anyway?

"I wasn't perving on you!" he snaps a little bit louder than he'd probably intended to.

"Breasts, not things," Zemo calls back. It's-- possibly easier to fall back on needling Bucky than dealing with-- his own feelings on this. They're too far all over the place to begin that.

He peeks his head back out of the bathroom, eyebrow arching at the insistence. His eyes did seem to linger a bit longer than they should have -- until Zemo demanded he look away. He'd maybe beg to differ there was no perving, but-- "I never suggested you did, did I?"

And more curiously-- "Do I look that strange as a woman?"

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