Costumes and masking
It was a spacious room with closets full of different kind of clothes, soft carpets on the floor and velvet armchairs, within which Zemo had left them so they could get changed in some measure of privacy. It was possibly the first time the baron was considerate of their feelings.
Sam didn't move towards the closets and instead eyed Bucky.
"You're going to be okay?"
It took some seconds for the brunet to break out of his thoughts and turn to Sam.
"Yeah."
Sam tilted his head.
"You sure?"
This time, Bucky reacted faster - and with a touch of annoyance.
"It'll just be an act, okay? And I'm a master of espionnage, I can pull off any act."
The Falcon didn't insist. He focused on his costume. Zemo had shown him what kind of clothes he would have to wear to fit his character - it was weird thinking about it that way since, apparently, he would assume a real person's identity. To be fair, finding the good things didn't take him long. He just had to go over the top. For Sam's natural simplicity in life, it was something he would never imagine doing on a daily basis but he caught himself enjoying the dress up in itself. Again, he would never wear this kind of stuff, but it felt something. Like a Halloween costume.
Bucky wasn't doing as great. To begin with, he didn't really have a choice; Zemo had already a suit prepared for him. And as he strapped it up, he couldn't tell whether it was the suit or his anxiety crushing his ribs. He even reached out for his hair, the way he used to, when it was long, to keep it from falling in his face as he arranged the sleeve around the metal arm. The lack of hair didn't help him feel better, paradoxically.
Calm down, Buck.
He reminded himself that Zemo's words had had no effect on him. Zemo couldn't control him anymore.
He flinched when Sam put his hand on his - flesh - shoulder.
"Are you okay, Buck?"
He stepped away.
"And are you the one who rescued me in Azzano in October 1943?"
Sam was already sighing and rolling his eyes backwards. He readjusted his shirt inside his (really tight) pants while glancing at Bucky. The man hadn't even blinked.
"Man, Zemo is trying to get into your head-"
"Is he?"
Bucky looked down at his metal hand, clenching and unclenching his fist. Was Zemo trying to get into his head or was he inviting him? To test himself, to know for sure the Winter Soldier wasn't there anymore.
"Yes, Buck, he is!"
He looked up at the black man - and forgot to respond to the nickname.
"And you shouldn't let him. He's playing with you. He's having a blast right now! So don't let him have his fun."
Out of the three of them, the Sokovian man was definitely the one who wanted to be in that situation - or seemed to be comfortable with it at least.
"Now, tell me, how do I look?"
Sam stretched his arms to show his whole appearance. Bucky didn't look impressed - he never was.
"Fine, you look gorgeous."
The Falcon took a deep breath, trying to keep his cool.
"I'm just asking you a question, Barnes..."
"And I answered it!"
The black man stopped to look at the ex-assassin. Bucky was blushing. Slowly, it sank in.
"Wait, you mean... You were being serious?"
The brunet got frankly agressive.
"Yeah, I was! What the fuck you want me to say? You're a handsome man and that suit really compliments you! There, can you leave me alone, now?"
And he turned his back on his and walked to one corner of the room to lace his shoes. Sam approached him but timidly and stayed a few feet behind.
"Wow, man, I, er, don't know what to say... I mean, thanks for the compliment."
Bucky growled.
"Yeah, whatever."
For some reason, Sam wanted to smile. First, because, nobody had told him that in a long time, secondly, because it came from Bucky and third, because it came from Bucky.
He decided to give the man his peace but as he turned, Bucky called him.
"Actually I'm taking it back. You're not as good looking at that skinny guy who dropped us near Munich."
This time, Sam couldn't help but let his smile slip.
"His name is Torres."
"I don't care."
The Falcon's grin deepened as he turned to look at himself in the full-length mirror. His smile dropped. He looked good, there was no question about it but that wasn't the issue...
He sensed Bucky joining his side.
"You're nervous?"
Bucky's voice was low and calm. Sam glanced at him then nodded.
"Yeah."
He realized he had a lump in his throat. As hard as he was trying not to think about it, he was actually stressed by the situation. He never went undercover - or not to this extent. And Zemo had made it clear that their cover's integrity was a matter of life or death (not to mention that if they lost this lead, they would probably never find the super-soldier serum again.)
"Don't worry. You'll do fine."
He looked down on his phone where he kept the informations Zemo had given him on the man he was about to impersonate.
"Doesn't look like a fun guy" he stated.
The shadow of a smile passed on Bucky's face.
"Yeah. Which means you'll just have to look tough and stay quiet. We'll leave all the talking to Zemo anyway."
The door opened and they both turned to it.
"I hope you're ready, gentleman" said Zemo, popping his head inside the room, "it's time to shine."
Steve's two best friends exchanged a look and Sam sighed. The Falcon took the lead. Before they crossed the threshold, however, Bucky grabbed his arm.
"This Torres, you have his number?"
The man smiled.
"Maybe. Do you have a phone?"
The brunet huffed and Sam laughed.