My Name Is Bucky [FemBucky&Sam]

Sh*tbox

"What did we miss?" Sam asks.

Seems like they missed a fuck load, Bucky thinks as she takes in the smashed glass, the blue liquid and Zemo out cold at Walker's feet. Somehow, though, John lets she and Sam go off with Zemo, but as Bucky is hauling his dead weight over her shoulder, she can't help notice the strange look in Captain Douchebag's eyes. He suddenly looks calmer than she's ever seen him, but she doesn't miss the storms flashing in his slightly glazed over vision.

Bucky doesn't say anything for now as she and Sam make their way back to Zemo's apartment. She dumps the unconscious man onto one of his couches and simply tells Sam she will be back in half an hour before walking back out.

And Sam can only stare curiously after her.

4 minutes later, Sam has fished out his laptop and is sat at the dining room dinner table, one hand scrolling fingers across the mouse-pad, and the other, holding a glass. He takes another small sip of the sparkling water and places the glass down to use both hands for typing.

2 minutes later, Zemo finally rouses with a pain-filled groan as he clutches at his throbbing head. "Fucking idiot Americans. Brutes, the lot of them."

Sam arches a brow when Zemo mutters the words in Sokovian, then rolls his eyes when the Sokovian glares at him. Sam proceeds to ignore the other man, gets back to his searches.

Zemo hauls himself to his feet and wobbles for a split second. He glares to himself, then, makes a beeline for the bathroom.

Sam smirks to himself, clearly amused when he hears Zemo shouting, "That shitbox!" He pauses his typing again and watches with amusement as Zemo reenters the room.

Zemo points to the ugly purple bruise on the left side of his forehead, marches up to Sam with outrage clear on his entire face. "Look what that shitbox did to my face!"

"I mean, it's definitely an improvement."

Zemo directs his rage at Sam then. "Hm." He nods. "Of course you would think it's funny. Not much you have to do to look good, is there?"

Sam chuckles. He may be enjoying this a little too much, but fuck Zemo, he thinks. "I know you're pissed off, but I'm still gonna take that as a compliment." Just because he knows it will piss Zemo off all the more. Just like it does, and Sam smirks triumphantly before going back to his typing.

Zemo huffs loudly, turns towards the bar instead. He pulls out an ice-pack, grabs a glass and the bottle of port and shuffles back over to the couch he'd woken from. He slumps back down, pours himself a glass and lays back with the ice pressed against his sore head.

Sam glances over at him briefly, shakes his head with another smirk and simply continues with what he's doing - trying to find out just where the hell Karli could be hiding now. Thanks to fucking John - or "that shitbox" - Sam and Bucky are right back to where they were!

Zemo takes a careful few sips of his drink before the silence becomes far too loud for him to bear. "Sam."

"Hm?" Comes Sam's distracted response.

Zemo peaks one eye open to look at his reaction before he asks, "Were you ever offered it?"

Sam finally pauses again and shoots him a questioning look. "What?"

Zemo thinks his expression is genuine enough and he's not all that surprised - by what he's seen, Sam would have been about as good of a replacement for Steve Rogers as anyone could probably ever hope to be. Still, he wants to know for sure as he answers, "The serum."