Work Text:
Latvia is a nice little country; the downtown area they are currently in is occupied with different people heading different places. Bucky would probably like it a bit more if it weren’t for the reason they were actually there — that reason being to track down the place of Donya Madani’s funeral, and in turn Karli Morgenthau and the Flag Smashers.
And Zemo.
Zemo, surprisingly, hasn’t been too much of a problem for Bucky or Sam. Yet. His help has been nice, and he has proven quite useful all throughout their trip to Madripoor and thereafter. Bucky will give him that.
His only issue with the situation currently, is the Dora Milaje giving him roughly eight hours to find what they’re looking for. Eight hours until they come to take Zemo away, back to prison where he belongs.
Bucky really can’t argue with that — Zemo killed their King, causing great shame among the Dora Milaje for years after the fact. Bucky didn’t want to have to break Zemo out, but it really was their only option.
Now, however, he and Sam sit idly in the large suite they’re currently staying in, Bucky behind the counter pouring himself a glass of whiskey and Sam on the couch, arm resting on the side and leaning back.
Bucky takes a drink from his glass, leaning up against the counter behind him. He had just come in from his talk with Ayo. “Where’s Zemo?”
Sam just shakes his head, “After we got up here while you were… getting some fresh air, or whatever, he said something about wanting to go talk to a few people he saw outside. Maybe get some information on this Donya Madani.”
Bucky nods, downing the glass and setting it on the counter beside him. “And you just… let him go alone?”
“Yes, I let him go alone, Bucky. I didn’t figure the guy really had anywhere to run off to.”
“Right.” Bucky huffs a breath, laughing quietly while Sam just watches with an indecipherable look on his face. The two of them still aren’t really getting along, but it’s a slow process.
Several more moments of silence ensue, until it’s eventually broken by the sound of the entry door opening and closing, followed by… the click clack of nails on the floor’s surface?
“What the hell is that?” Bucky watches, skeptical, waiting for Zemo to reply. He doesn’t; simply shakes out his coat a little bit and scrapes his boots against the rug, hanging his coat at the door. Beside him is a two foot tall ball of golden fur, mouth open and panting.
Zemo turns to look at Bucky, then Sam, eyes narrowed. “A dog, James. I thought you knew what those were.”
“Yes, I know what dogs are. But why did you bring one here?”
“Because,” Zemo crouches down so that he is a closer level to the dog, scratching at the top of her head and just behind her ears. The dog closes her eyes, and for a moment it almost looks like she is smiling. “I found her on the street. She seemed hungry, and I thought bringing her back here would not be so bad.”
“We don’t have time to take care of a dog, Zemo.” Sam chimes in from his spot on the couch, though he stands up to get closer to the dog—who Bucky knows is a Golden Retriever—giving the dog, currently unnamed, pets beneath her chin.
“Am I the only one who is absolutely against this? Because Sam, your words say no, but your actions say yes.”
“What do you have against Hazel, James?” Zemo looks up at Bucky and tilts his head, giving Bucky that look he absolutely resents.
Then he says, “Who the fuck is Hazel?”
“The dog, clearly.” Zemo is testing him, Bucky is sure of it.
“You know,” Sam goes on. “I really wouldn’t mind having Hazel stay with us the next couple days. She seems sweet enough.”
Bucky groans inwardly, running a hand down his face. He messes up the top of his hair a little, breathing a heavy sigh. “Fine. Keep the dog. I am not taking care of her, though — you’re the one who got yourself into this.” He’s pointing at Zemo now.
“That will not be a problem, James.” Zemo grins, lips tilting upwards ever so slightly. He looks pleased, and Bucky feels the urge to smack the look right off his face. Then, to Sam, “How long before you think he warms up to her?”
Sam laughs, giving it a moment of thought. “I’d say less than a day, maybe.”
Bucky pours himself another glass, rolling his eyes. “I can hear you, you know.”
Assholes.
. . .
Bucky has the bedroom that night. There’s only the one, so Sam and Zemo are left to sleep on the couch and chairs or wherever they can find in the main room.
He’s drifting, he can feel it, but Bucky can’t quite make it into sleep yet. It usually takes him a while, anyway. Sleep never comes easy for him; and even if it did, he wouldn’t want it to.
He remembers the most whenever he sleeps.
Bucky lies on his side, arm brought up and angled over his stomach.
When the door creaks open sometime around midnight, Bucky sits up in the bed, sheets falling to his waist. He can’t see anyone, but then he hears the sound of Hazel’s nails against the hardwood and then her head is resting at the side of the bed.
She gives him a look, shifting her body forward a little bit so that she is closer to the bed.
“Go on, shoo.” Bucky urges, gently waving his hand towards the door. Hazel doesn’t move however, and Bucky is shown the exact reason why they’re called ‘puppy dog eyes.’
He sighs, shutting his eyes for a moment and rubbing his thumb and forefinger against his temples. “Go on, girl.”
Hazel whines, moves, and for a second Bucky thinks she’s going to listen. Instead she puts her front paws on the bed, leaning her head forward to try and lick Bucky’s hand.
Okay, maybe… her staying with him wouldn’t be so bad. And quite frankly, Bucky can’t say no to that face. He will never admit that to Sam or Zemo, however. He’ll kick her out before morning.
“Come on, up.” Bucky pats the side of the bed, and Hazel jumps up with her front paws standing on his legs as she leans her face close to plant a solid lick to Bucky’s face. He can’t help but laugh, scrunching his nose. “Hey, stop that!”
It’s a whisper yell, but there’s no real venom in it either. Hazel just licks Bucky one more time before moving, curling up on the bed beside Bucky.
He lies down, sighing quietly as he looks over at Hazel. She’s plopped right next to his side, facing the other way. She lays her head down to rest against her front paws, licking her chops and turning her head to get more comfortable.
Bucky smiles, brushing a hand down Hazel’s soft coat, giving her back a few gentle pats.
He looks up at the ceiling awhile, starting to fall asleep to the soft rhythm of Hazel’s breathing beside him. Okay yeah, she’s pretty sweet. He’ll admit that.
“Don’t you dare tell Sam or Zemo about this.” Bucky whispers, glancing at the dog.
Hazel just turns her head and licks Bucky’s shoulder once, and Bucky falls asleep that way.
. . .
“I already told you, Zemo.” Bucky explains for the umpteenth time that morning, nursing a cup of regular coffee while he sits on the couch. “She must have snuck up on me in the middle of the night.”
“Mhm.” Zemo grins from his spot on the couch, fingers running soft through her fur. He’s clearly taken a liking to Hazel, and they’ve been mostly inseparable ever since he brought her in. “Perhaps we should teach her a few tricks.”
“Yeah, maybe she could help us track down this Donya person. Think she has a good bite?”
“James, that is hardly appropriate.” Zemo looks up at him like that’s the most ridiculous question ever. “She is not an attack dog. I know you might be familiar with the idea, though. Hydra practically used you as an attack dog for years.”
Bucky looks unamused, jaw clicking. “Are you asking me to punch you in the face? Because I will.”
Zemo doesn’t say anything, going back to scratch at the sides of Hazel’s neck. He’s like a different person with her, cooing and smiling like she’s his child. Bucky frowns; Hazel very well might be a replacement for his own child he lost years ago.
Bucky clears his throat, finishing the rest of his coffee. “You ready to go?”
“Whenever you are.”
“Right. Sam should be down there already, come on.”
. . .
“Remind me why we needed to bring the dog?” Bucky’s hands are stuffed into his jacket pockets, glancing at Zemo from the side as they walk to meet with Sam.
“She gets lonely, James.” Zemo pats the top of Hazel’s head as they walk, “don’t you girl?”
“This is so out of character for you, Zemo. Since when do you…” Bucky waves his hand around, grasping for the right word. “…you know.”
“Care?” Zemo scoffs, Hazel close by his side as they walk down the cobbled street. It’s nice out, and no one is really out right now. Bucky spots Sam at the end of the street, pointing him out.
“There he is. And… no, not what I meant. I don’t know. Just keep walking, okay?”
Hazel barks excitedly as they reach Sam, and Zemo laughs as she goes to greet him, jumping up as Sam reaches arms out to brush the fur around her neck.
It’s such an odd but sweet sight, Bucky can’t help but smile at it.
Zemo stands close by, and soon enough she turns around to circle at Zemo’s feet.
Yup. Inseparable.
The three work out a plan though; they’ll all go their own separate ways to ask their own questions, do their own interrogating.
Throughout their entire conversation, Hazel sits directly by Bucky’s feet, her snout raised high in the air to try and get some pets from the man. He doesn’t give in, for the most part he just pretends he doesn’t notice.
Hazel is relentless though, pressing up off her back paws to rub the side of her nose against the palm of Bucky’s hand and he sighs, indulging her with a few small scratches just below her ear and at the side of her neck. The golden seems to enjoy that, kicking her leg against the cobble path and leaning into the touches.
Bucky smiles, ignoring the knowing looks from Sam and Zemo.
Yes, he likes Hazel, no need to be all excited about it.
For the rest of their day, Hazel spends her time helping Zemo walk around the town and talk to the kids. Bucky can’t help but find the pair adorable. He won’t admit that out loud, of course.
. . .
They get back to the suite sometime that afternoon, taking a moment to unwind from a long day of nothing. Bucky is sitting on the couch, leaning back into the cushion, head back. Hazel sits beside him, curled up into a ball right by his hip with her chin resting on his knee.
Bucky can’t be bothered to have her move, it’s comfortable and Hazel has been working hard today, too. He smiles, brushing his fingers through the fur at the back of her neck absentmindedly.
It’s a sweet sight; Sam and Zemo both take note of it and share a few looks. Hazel has indeed grown on Bucky, and the two get along well already.
“Perhaps we should keep Hazel,” Zemo states, settling down onto the couch beside Hazel and petting her back. “You two seem to get along well. She’d be a great companion, don’t you think?”
“No.” Bucky replies simply, still scratching gently at Hazel’s neck. “I probably wouldn’t take very good care of her.” He finishes sheepishly, eyes turned to look at Hazel now. “She deserves better.”
“I think you would take great care of her, James. And she would take great care of you.”
“I don’t need a dog to take care of me.” Bucky says quietly, smiling weakly down at Hazel. The thought of keeping her is kind of appealing. Maybe he would be less lonely around his apartment, once he went back.
“Just think about it, James.” Zemo looks at Bucky, smiling softly. He reaches a hand to pat his shoulder reassuringly, the sentiment shrugged off by Bucky who just nods, not making eye contact with Zemo.
“Yeah. I will.” He tries to fight the sudden surge of butterflies caused by Zemo’s simple touch, standing up quickly. “l’m uh- going to go get some fresh air.”
As he moves toward the door, Bucky can hear soft whining as Hazel lifts her head, watching Bucky start to leave . He laughs, “Come on Hazel, you can come with.”
With one last small pat from Zemo, Hazel gets up off the couch and trots towards Bucky out the door.
It’s warm outside, people filling the streets, walking from one place to the next. Bucky sighs, Hazel walking directly beside him, tongue hanging out lazily as she pants. He smiles, giving her head a few small scratches before picking up the pace of his walk.
The fresh air feels nice, and just walking sort of starts to clear his mind, helps ease the tension in his shoulders. Hazel remains by Bucky’s side throughout the entirety of the walk, and before he knows it, it’s already dark out.
With a quiet sigh, Bucky decides to head back to the suite, first crouching down to give Hazel a few good pets before continuing their walk. It’s almost like she’s smiling at him, tongue hanging from her mouth as she breathes hot air into Bucky’s face. He’ll have to get her some fresh water once they get back.
The walk back doesn’t take much longer, Hazel sort of zig zags along the path, branching out to sniff out a few things lying about, curious as ever. Bucky watches fondly, making a few ticking noises to get Hazel’s attention once he reaches the steps of their building. She comes towards him immediately, tail wagging as she follows Bucky eagerly inside, practically prancing in circles around his feet at the door.
“Are you thirsty, girl? C’mon — let’s get inside and get you some water.” Bucky opens the door - currently unlocked - and then locks it behind him, heading into the kitchen to fill the bowl they had been using for Hazel with fresh water. She drinks it gratefully and forever, and Bucky swears she leaves no room to breathe.
Finally, Hazel is done and Bucky is settling onto the couch for what he hopes will be a decent night's sleep, laying flat on his back with his arms crossed over his chest as he looks at the ceiling. Moments later, paws pat beside his arm, and Bucky turns to see Hazel with her paws up and staring directly at him.
Of course.
The man sighs, shifting on his side a little, patting the spot on the couch next to him. “Come on. Up.”
Instead of getting up though, Hazel makes a sound between a quiet bark and a whine, getting down and trotting to the door of the bedroom. Bucky sits up a little, leaning on his elbow and tilting his head. “What?”
Hazel runs back to the couch, resting her chin on the edge of it and giving Bucky that look again.
“What?”
Hazel humphs, turns, and goes back to he door of the bedroom, looking back at Bucky. He sighs, looks at where Sam lies, passed out in one of the chairs. Which means Zemo is in the bedroom. She must want to lay with him.
Having come to a conclusion, Bucky gets up and walks quietly to the door of the bedroom, carefully opening it and letting Hazel in. When he goes to turn and head back to the couch however, Hazel moves around his feet excitedly, like she wants him to go in the room with her.
Bucky looks at Hazel.
Hazel looks at Bucky.
She whines.
Bucky sighs.
“Okay, fine. Whatever.” Bucky pushes the door open all of the way and shuts it silently behind him, making his way to the bed, where Zemo lies in a comfortable sweater, waist covered by the sheets. “Zemo.”
Nothing.
Bucky clears his throat, “Zemo.”
The Sokovian wakes up finally, blinking heavily. “James? What are you doing in here?”
“I… Well. Hazel wants to sleep with both of us, and she won’t let me sleep, so…”
Zemo’s eyes light up, as if he’s understanding what Bucky is saying. “Yes, of course. You’re suggesting that you both sleep in here with me then?”
Bucky shuffles rather awkwardly on his feet, mumbling. Damn this dog, making Bucky think about his feelings towards this beautiful asshole. “Yes. That is what I’m suggesting, Zemo.”
“Of course. You may.” Zemo pats the bed for Hazel to get up and she does, followed by Bucky who goes to lay on the other side. The Golden is lying in between them, curled up with her forehead pressed into Zemo’s side and paws brought up a bit. Bucky lays beside them, a bit hesitant at first.
“Relax, James.” Zemo’s voice fills the silence, and surprisingly - Bucky does relax. He can feel Zemo’s hand resting gently on his shoulder, and this time, he doesn’t brush it off. He’s… grateful for it. Zemo’s hand gives Bucky’s shoulder a small squeeze, before dropping, brushing Hazel’s fur. “Goodnight.”
“Yeah…” Bucky breathes into the quiet, turning on his side to face them, scooting close. “Goodnight.”
When Sam wakes them up the next morning, Bucky doesn’t hear the end of it.