experienceandpatience

"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?"

"I know what they're called," he hisses back, shoulders rising instinctively even though they must sound like twelve year olds right now with this back and forth.

"You don't look strange. Just-- different. You sound different. I'm just-- getting used to it." They already know Bucky doesn't like change. A combination of being old and stubborn and... mildly paranoid and what Sam would have called 'boring' and Bucky would have called 'set in his ways' had seen to that.

Give him a few days and he'll be fine with the house, the new Zemo, if that's getting stuck. Hopefully not. He'd like for one thing to remain the same. If tomorrow Oeznik comes padding over briskly screeching about his new body, Bucky might just walk out into the snow through the clearing and into the sparse smattering of trees and not come back for the rest of the day.

There's a roll of his eyes at the protest. Bucky was the one acting as if saying breasts may burn his tongue or something.

"You are not the only one, James." Everything-- is rather different this morning, isn't it? Bucky is unhappy with the house, uncomfortable with him seemingly, and his body is entirely changed for unknown reasons. There's a bit of a deflated sigh after a moment before Zemo ducks back inside to start the shower and... start taking off clothes.

It's odd to look down, and uncomfortable to touch his own body and not really feel much familiarity at all. But hopefully they-- find a way to fix this, or it wears off, or-- something that doesn't quite end with law enforcement pounding at their door now that they've settled in somewhere.

And went through the trouble of a remodel.

At least he will make it a quick enough shower to avoid using up all the hot water for Bucky.

Bucky busies himself stacking the empty plates and cups together and bringing the tray back downstairs. Oeznik won't let him leave without making him sit at the counter and eat at least a whole slice of toast. Bucky does his best to just casually mention that Zemo wants to head into town - get that broken phone sorted and buy a few other things - and they might be a few hours. It's easier to not tell the whole truth to Oeznik when Steve is perched in Bucky's lap and he's half-distracted, and Oeznik doesn't question it, simply nodding and agreeing to babysit Steve for one more full day.

By the time Bucky gets back upstairs, Zemo is already done. Bucky can't help but look at Zemo's lithe figure wrapped in a towel, standing in front of the wardrobe looking for something suitable to wear. There are curves in... interesting places. Long hair. It's all so different even if there's little hallmarks of familiarity here and there.

"Got something you can wear?" he asks quietly. He'd offer Zemo his wardrobe, but it's significantly emptier. Just monochrome, plain t-shirts and that suit. It's probably not as varied, and too cold right now to be wearing most of it.

There's a shrug at the question. None of his clothes seem like they will fit overly well, but he finds a pair of track pants that seem like they will stretch where they need to and a shirt to go with them. "Somewhat, I think. It will work until we find clothes in town."

... which will likely be at Walmart, won't it? There's a bit of a sigh before he moves to lie the clothes on the edge of the bed to dress, discarding his towel. "Is there anything else you need to do in town?"

It's easier to talk about the mundane than the obvious right now.

He's not sure if Zemo's ever worn anything from Walmart. Maybe the thought of it alone might turn him into a nudist. They'll probably be able to find something slightly better than Walmart, although it won't be some designer Italian fare either...

"Just need a phone, at some point." Honestly, it wouldn't bother him at all if they didn't replace it. But he did tell Oeznik they were going to buy one - and Walmart is likely going to be one of the only places that still sells phones Bucky likes, with clicky buttons and a battery life of a week or so.

"And we'll get whatever you want for dinner. Lunch too. I told Oeznik we might be headed out for the day." Maybe some eating and mindless clothes shopping will help take Zemo's mind off his current predicament.

Not that he believes it to be all that bad. Being able to pass through anywhere unrecognised is a really significant silver lining to him. They should be taking advantage of it as much as they can.

"We will replace it." He'd press for something more modern, but he has a feeling one more change and Bucky may have an even bigger breakdown than this morning. He can keep his ridiculous, ancient phone. He is rather certain Walmart will have a few of them. After he's slipped into his clothes, eyed his closet warily for shoes -- maybe there are some sneakers in there somewhere that he may still be able to tie up tight enough to wear, even if they may be a bit too big now.

"Anything I want?" There's a spark of amusement at that. "You must be worried."

That's certainly a level of spoiling he wasn't expecting, not even a warning about not choosing anything strange or a token protest in sight. Turning on his heel, he approaches Bucky with a softer smile though. "I suppose now is as good a time as any to indulge a bit. We won't have to worry too much about being spotted, I think."

There's a shake of his head. "I suppose if any of your friends do spot and come after you, they will only see you've run off with a girlfriend and not a regicidal terrorist."

"Well. You might not be able to go out again tomorrow." Bucky gives him a small shrug. "If you're going to actually truly be free for a day, you should make the most of it." Which includes going to all the restaurants Zemo wants to hit up, slim pickings though they are around here, and ordering all the weird stuff he might want to try.

"I mean... Technically you're my wife," Bucky points out quietly, not at all an assertive husband. Wives do get to pick the lunch and dinner places and do whatever they like on the one day they can freely go to town.

"I'm gonna have a quick shower, and then we can go." And he won't be using that much hot water himself... he probably should give himself a cold shower just in case his other head starts getting wild ideas about Mrs. Barnes.

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