Bucky Clone-ish

Part 1.

Bucky almost collided into Jamie. Jamie was running from the kitchen to the back gardens carrying a large wok. Muzzy was hot on his tail, carrying two metal saucepans.

“Hey. Watch it.”

“Sorry. No time.” Jamie grinned a huge grin as he belted past.

“It’s almost here.” Muzzy yowled over his shoulder as he ran past.

“What’s almost here?” But he got no answer, as the Cats pelted it into the garden.

Bucky followed them down the corridor at a more moderate pace, but was diverted by the sound of quiet conversation coming from the orangery. He walked in to find everyone standing in front of the big floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the back gardens. Zemo, Daniil and Sebastián were looking out of the windows with rapt attention.

“Hey guys. What’s going on?”

He stalked over to stand next to Zemo. Shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Hey,” said Sebastián distractedly.

“There’s a pot of tea and stuff on the table,” offered Daniil.

“Watch,” said Zemo, huskily, nudging his shoulder against Bucky, raising a glass of tea to his lips. Bucky could smell the cherry blossom.

He gazed at Zemo’s profile for a few seconds, taking in his impeccable waves of hair, the characteristic moles, the highlights in his eyes. His fine-boned hands holding his teacup, the purse of his lips against the rim, his soft grey cashmere rollneck. A movement outside brought his attention back to the here and now.

The Cats were moving about outside, positioning various metallic dishes, containers, objects on the concrete slabs of the patio. They added some metallic chairs, and hung some wind chimes from the side of the table. Looked critically at the positioning. Moved the wok a few centimetres to the left. Placed one small metallic mixing bowl inside another larger one.

Muzzy looked up into the overcast skies. Sniffed.

Jamie cocked his head, ears flicking. “Nearly,” he said.

Muzzy rotated his ears, and opened his mouth in a silent laugh.

Jamie laughed back, eyes shining. “It’s gonna be a big one.”

“Huge.”

“Yip.” Jamie did a little dance.

A few spots of rain landed on the window in front of Bucky.

The Cats yowled delightedly, and rushed back into the house, slamming the doors behind them. They pelted down the corridor, skidding to turn the corner into the orangery to join the others just as a huge flash of lightning lit up the sky.

“Whoa,” said Jamie, sliding to a halt next to Zemo.

“Oh, it’s starting,” said Muzzy, coming to stand by Bucky.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, and was just about to say something when a huge roar of thunder rolled around the house, causing everyone to shiver and goosebumps to appear on exposed flesh.

“Here we go,” whispered Muzzy, clapping his hands together.

“Yip,” said Jamie, hugging himself.

And it started to rain. Slow fat blobs of rain, big droplets, hitting the ground, sliding down the window pane. But, oh, when they hit the metallic objects the Cats had positioned outside, something wonderful happened. 

Rain music. Tinkling patterns of plonky glockenspiel melodies. Bright staccato notes; sometimes jarringly out of tune; sometimes harmonious, like a peal of small bells.

Jamie and Muzzy were ecstatic. Tails finding each other and intertwining behind Zemo and Bucky, hands and noses pressed up against the glass, ears flicking as they listened to their rain song and chased the raindrops trickling down the window.

“Oh, how marvellous,” said Zemo.

Jamie and Muzzy grinned over at each other.

“How did you know?” asked Daniil.

“We could smell the rain coming,” whispered Jamie.

“And we wanted to try it,” finished Muzzy.

They listened, enraptured, for a few more minutes until the rain started to come down harder and the music was lost in the cacophony of splattering droplets, lashing the house and grounds, interspersed with more lightning flashes and huge rolls of thunder.

“This looks like it’s going to be a while,” said Bucky, turning around and gently disentangling tails so he could move away.

Muzz and Jamie moved closer to the glass. “23 minutes,” said Muzzy, knowingly.

Jamie nodded, sliding his nose over the window as he followed two raindrops joining each other to create a little river.

Zemo watched the rain, bracketed by his two spellbound Cats. Daniil moved over to the tea table, where Bucky was pouring out coffee for himself, hot chocolate for Jamie, and tea for Muzz.

“What can I get you?” he asked Dani, smiling.

“I’ll have tea, please, and coffee for Seb.” Dani smiled back, collected a plate of biscuits, and a platter of sliced cake. He chose a jammy dodger and held it up to Bucky’s mouth for him to bite. He smiled again when Bucky leaned forward to take the whole biscuit and crunch happily, his lips lingering on Dani’s fingers. He winked at Dani cheekily, then swallowed. Dani stalled, then said “I’ll just hand these out,” moving away to offer snacks to the others, looking back at Bucky pouring drinks assiduously.

They all watched the storm ferociously lash the garden, so fierce they could barely see more than 2 metres away, standing by the windows in the dim afternoon light, sipping hot drinks and munching biscuits. It was a little slice of heaven. 

The rain was moving in sheets across their field of view. Hard and slanting. Every now and then the sky was lit up with forked lightning and the Cats shivered excitedly, moving to position themselves in front of Zemo and Bucky, who put their arms around them as they put their backs against their chests. They counted the seconds between the lightning and the thunder, imagined the storm rolling over the house.

“It’s right above us now, isn’t it?” said Jamie, staring out of the window, fascinated, pulling Zemo’s arms around himself and snuggling into Zemo’s chest.

“Yes, my love,” purred Zemo into his ear. “We are surrounded by electric forces. Do you feel the power?”

Jamie squirmed delightedly against Zemo’s torso.

“I’m glad we’re in here and not out there,” whispered Muzzy, snuggling up into Bucky’s arms. “I’m sure I’d get more wet than even in the shower.”

“I’d dry you off, Spots,” whispered Bucky into his neck. “With a huge fluffy towel.” Muzzy grinned a feral grin and turned to kiss his cheek, before going back to watching the storm from the warmth of Bucky’s embrace, his eyes wide, pupils huge.

Seb and Dani moved away after a while, choosing to sit by the log burner in the corner snug, but the Cats were so captivated that Zemo and Bucky stayed wrapped around them throughout the storm.

Sheet lightning split the sky and Jamie blinked away after images. “Everything’s gone green, Mo,” he whispered wonderingly. Zemo hugged him.

Thunder rolled. “It’s moving away,” said Muzzy somewhat sadly, watching the rain ease slightly.

“Yes,” said Zemo. “But maybe we’ll have more music at the end.”

Jamie nodded, rubbing the back of his head against Zemo’s shoulder and collar bone.

As the rain eased, they began to hear faint sporadic tinkling. Jamie and Muzz moved closer to the glass, and they all refreshed their drinks and collected more cake. Zemo and Bucky brought some over for the Cats, just in time for the end of the storm.

For now, as the rain slowed and the droplets became more rounded and cohesive, they could once again be heard splashing on the upturned saucepans and metallic objects, creating their final glockenspiel scherzo. 

*

Later that evening, after watching a particularly good science fiction film in the home cinema room, Muzz extricated himself from where he had been curled up between Jamie and Daniil. He stood, stretched, scratched his belly and announced to the room:

‘I’m thinking of making seafood for dinner.”

“Yeah,” said Bucky, lifting his head from Zemo’s lap. “I like that, cos, when I see food, I eat it!” He grinned cheesily, inordinately pleased with himself. “See food. Get it?”

“Groan,” said Zemo, good naturedly. He gave an exaggerated eye roll. “Yes, my love, we all get it.” He ruffled Bucky’s hair affectionately.

“What kind of stuff are you cooking, Muzz?” asked Sebastián.

“Well, for starters, I’m doing sliced octopus carpaccio with a creamy lemon sauce and cucumber relish, cuttlefish carpaccio with passion fruit, and spicy prawns with mango.”

“Mmmmmm. That sounds scrummy,” said Jamie, sitting up.

“Indeed,” said Zemo encouragingly.

Muzzy picked his way delicately over the bits of uneaten popcorn on the floor as he made his way to the door.

“Then, Lobster Thermidor. I know it’s been done before, but I haven’t done it. So, you will all be my guinea pigs for this.”

“I like being your guinea pig,” grinned Jamie.

“But, I’ll also do maple salmon and pan-seared tilapia, just in case,” added Muzzy, reaching the door.

“You don’t have to,” said Zemo. “I’m sure your Thermidor will be delightful.”

“It will. Thank you. And I think, for dessert, orange upside down cake and key lime pie.”

“That all sound delicious, Muzzy,” said Zemo. “You are becoming a marvellous chef.”

Muzzy preened, tail swishing. “Yes, and the cake will be fish-shaped, and the pie shaped like a manta ray.”

“Oh, how whimsical. I adore it.”

Muzzy smiled widely.

“Want any help, Muzz?” asked Sebastián, getting up and stretching himself.

“Thank you. That would be lovely. You can come and talk to me and help with the dishes.”

Sebastián groaned, and dropped his shoulders with exaggerated dismay. Daniil nudged him with his foot. They both laughed silently.

“I can’t cook, but I can help with the dishes, too, if you like,” said Jamie.

“That would also be lovely, darrrrrling. You are very kind.”

Jamie preened and followed Seb and Muzz out into the kitchen.

Bucky looked between Zemo and Dani. “Well, what do you fancy doing until the food is ready?”

*

Part 2.

Zemo walked back into the lounge from the study.

“Everything ok at the customisers?” asked Bucky.

“Indeed, yes,” said Zemo, smiling. “I’m going to check our little planet hopper over tomorrow afternoon. Would any of you like to accompany me?” He looked around at his little squad. He had everyone’s devout attention. They all signalled their agreement.

He sat on the couch by Jamie, who cuddled up to him, eyes big and round. Zemo smiled fondly at him. “If everything is to my satisfaction, we could take it out for a spin at the weekend.” He ruffled Jamie’s hair.

“Up into space?” asked Muzzy, wonderingly, moving to sit on the couch next to Jamie.

“Yes, I think so.” He smiled round at everyone. “Just a little jaunt.”

“Could we go and see how well things are going on our moon? Have a look round. See if we get any ideas for what to build or add?” asked Bucky.

“Probably not this weekend, my love,” answered Zemo sadly. “It’s quite a way away just for a jaunt. I want to make sure our ship is perfectly functional and comfortable before we go that far.”

“Where were you thinking.?” asked Sebastián.

“Probably just to the moon and back.”

“The moon?” said both Cats in unison.

“Because I love you to the moon and back,” said Zemo, bopping Jamie and then Muzzy on the nose.

“Cheesy,” grinned Bucky.

“But true,” said Jamie, smiling shyly, gazing up at his Zemo adoringly.

“But we couldn’t go outside or anything?” asked Daniil.

“Unfortunately not. Earth’s moon is not habitable at the moment.”

Jamie put his hand on Zemo’s arm. “What’s our moon called, Mo?”

“Theta ZX 145900042 M Alpha.”

“That’s a mouthful. Can we name it something else?”

“Of course, best beloved. See if you are inspired when we have a little look round. There’s no rush.”

“Thema?” suggested Jamie, almost immediately.

“Cos it will be like our very own theme park?” added Muzzy.

“Oh, I like it. I see what you did there,” smiled Zemo. “Thema, it is.”

Jamie and Muzzy preened and nudged each other, ears flicking, tails entwining.

Zemo clapped his hands together and said to them both, “Since you are so very good at naming things, would you like the honour of naming our little planet hopper after you see her later?”

“Yes indeed,” said Muzz, smiling widely.

“Oh, Mo,” said Jamie, enraptured. “Can we really?”

Zemo nodded indulgently.

Jamie turned to Muzz, his face very serious. “We’d better get our thinking caps on.”

*

Part 3.

Over in Milan:

He caught the reflection of himself in the glass and his mind said Baron Helmut Zemo again. He must stop doing that. Yes, he had all of Zemo’s memories. But he wasn’t him. He knew exactly who and what he was. 

A clone. An identical copy.

Thankfully, unburdened by doubt, and fully aware of his situation. Chloë had found him, explained the situation and helped him to retrieve his memories, come to terms with what had happened to him, and establish a new identity of his own.

He knew he was only two years old, but his body was coded for late thirties. 

He had dyed his hair blond, and he quite liked the Aryan look it gave him. His new identity gave him a new name and job.

Cary Edwards. Art Gallery owner.

*

Part 4.

Somewhere dark, underground maybe. 

She woke on an unfamiliar hard prison-style bed. Her head was a bit groggy. There was light coming from beyond the door, sneaking into the room through a panel in the door, and around the edges. She was wearing unfamiliar scratchy sweatpants, t-shirt, trainers.

After a few moments, she could make out a small table and chair over by the wall, an exposed toilet area, no window. She sat up and threw her legs over the side of the bed.

She wracked her brains to try to remember how she got here. No luck.

Her stomach grumbled. She felt light headed. She heard movement outside, and a shadow passed over the little window in the door. A clipped female British accent spoke.

“Awake, I see. Would you care for some breakfast?”

She didn’t answer, just put her head in her hands. Heard a key in the lock. Didn’t even look up when someone came into the room. There was a blinding flash of light as the central bulb came on in the room, and she had to screw her eyes shut for a minute or two.

The voice spoke again. “I’ll let you collect yourself. There’s no need to be uncivil. Do you need to use the facilities?” A pause. “I can wait outside, and use the time to have someone fetch tea.”

She nodded her head.

“Well, and good.” The voice retreated, the door closed. The light stayed on.

*

Later, scrubbed up and with a cup of tea inside her and another waiting on the little table, she sat on the chair in the middle of the room, the other woman standing in front of her. British. Tall. Dark haired. Competent. She never gave a name, so she called her “Teapot” in her head.

Teapot was asking about the lab in the Alps. Apparently, it had recently been blown up. Well, that didn’t surprise her. Philby was getting a bit seedy. Once she found out about Hydra’s involvement, she skedaddled. But not before she had completed a little side project of her own. God, she was good. The thought of what was waiting for her in her apartment in Canada gave her a little frisson, and helped strengthen her courage against this unsettling situation she found herself in.

Teapot was talking again. She found she had the strength to answer. She actually felt a little cocky.

“How many clones did you make?” asked Teapot for the second time.

“Clone pairs, you mean? Always a Zemo and a Barnes. But not necessarily put in the same part of the world, or even together.”

“How many?”

“How many have you found?”

“Answer the question.”

“I was paid a lot of money for my skills, but also my discretion.”

“By Philby?”

“He didn’t pay me nearly enough.”

“Yes. Is that why you made more? To supplement your income?”

“Oh, no. Not at all. I never sold them.”

“Then, why?”

“Because it was just so easy. So tempting. They’re such good looking guys. I make them. I set them up. I watch them. It’s like my own little SIMS game, or Big Brother.”

“You set them up?”

“Naturally. Each with their own ID. New name, new job, new place. Old face.”

“So, you know where they all are, what they’re called, what they’re doing?”

“Yep. Every single one. They’re my babies.”

“Your adult babies.”

“Well, of course. They are all coded to the same age. Duh.”

“And you watch them?”

“I adore them.”

“Just watch?”

“Of course. They have their own lives to live. Their own futures to create. It’s fun to watch their lives unfold in interesting and unpredictable ways. I’m actually like a God for them.”

“You’re quite insane.”

“There’s a fine line between genius and insanity. I like to think of myself as a collector.”

Teapot turned and walked to the doorway, stepped out and spoke quietly to someone off to her right. She looked back into the room at the woman leaning back confidently, assuredly, on the flimsy wooden chair. The front 2 legs were up off the floor as she put her weight on the back. Teapot smiled. Let the truth serum do its work, she thought. I’ll give it 10 more minutes. The woman winked cockily at her as she shut the door.

*

Part 5.

The blond BuckyClone loped out of the surf carrying his board, the setting sun behind him outlining his form in neon orange and warm lavender. He jogged back to his van, wiped down his board, before towelling himself dry.

His phone sang to him from the glovebox. There was a text from Chloë.

*Gabriel. Visual confirmation of 6 clones cohabiting. 3Z3B. Will forward the coordinates. Investigate at your earliest convenience.*

He thought for a minute, then texted Martín, receiving the promised coordinates midflow.

*You busy atm?*

He was answered almost immediately.

*I have the coordinates. I’m coming to you.*

*

Martín looked out across his vast vineyard in the Spanish countryside. The sun was setting the crops on fire; light like thick honey enveloping his world. He finished the last few mouthfuls of his latest vintage: a nice full-bodied Rioja.

2 sets of triplets, eh? He wondered how he would differ from the ZemoClones they found there. He hoped they had their memories. It was always a bit of a rigmarole getting them to understand the situation if they were non compos mentis, and then even more of a faff to get them to Chloë so she could start their hypnotherapy, retrieve their actual memories, and help with their adjustment to their new reality. Eh bien, que sera, sera. Let’s see what unfolds as it unfolds.

It wouldn’t take Gabriel long to get here. He turned and strolled back into his villa. He had some preparations to make.

***