Chapter Text
“Mayor Rogers?”
Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, Wanda?”
His intern’s nasal tone rang out over the speakerphone. “You have a call on line 1 from a woman named Natasha at Barnes Limited?”
Steve nearly dropped his coffee mug. “Did you say Barnes Limited?”
He could hear the scuffle of papers, as though Wanda was searching for the note she’d scribbled down. “Yes, Mr. Mayor.”
“Honestly, it’s Steve, I promise, but put her through,” Steve sighed and tried to keep his mind from racing to fifteen years in the past, which is where his brain always went when he heard the name ‘Barnes’.
“Steve Rogers,” Steve said in greeting.
“Hello, Mayor Rogers,” a smooth voice with only a hint of a non-American accent drifted through the telephone line. “My name is Natasha Romanov and I am calling on behalf of Mr. James Barnes, who has recently inherited the controlling share of Sanditon Toy Factory, which I’m informed is located within the confines of your town.”
Fuck. Bucky got it? He’d been so hoping it would have gone to Becca. “It is indeed, Ms. Romanov. How can I help you and Mr. Barnes?”
“Mr. Barnes is scheduled to visit his recent acquisition tomorrow,” the voice continued, “but we are unable to locate a suitable local airstrip for his plane to land on. There is a plot of land close to the factory, but we cannot access any records regarding ownership and if the owner would be willing to host our plane. Could you possibly put us in contact with the owner?”
Steve grinned, just imagining Tony and Darcy’s face when they found out that Bigwig Barnes wanted to use their lawn as a landing strip. “I can, ma’am, but I can promise you that they would not be interested in acquiescing your request. My advice is for yourself and Mr. Barnes to contact Danbury Municipal and land there.” Which Bucky should know because, you know, he fucking grew up here.
“Mr. Barnes was hoping to avoid the long car ride between Danbury Municipal and Sanditon.”
“Well, Mr. Barnes will have to learn to live with disappointment. Most of us have,” Steve said cheerily. “Goodbye, Ms. Romanov. Sounds like I’ll be seeing you soon.”
Steve hung up without giving the other woman a chance to reply and immediately grabbed his phone. Texting his best friend, her older brother, and her older brother’s husband, Steve had to stop himself from hitting the phone screen so hard that he’d shatter it.
WhatsApp Chat: #StarkPlusTwo
Steve: Bucky got the factory.
Tony: Fuck, I really thought it would be Becca.
Darcy: I told you guys, she renounced all family rights when Barney pulled that bullshit. That would include the factory.
Tony: You’re wrong so often, though.
Darcy: Fuck off, Tony.
Tony: Doc’s at his office, so…
Darcy: You are disgusting.
Steve: FOCUS.
Steve: Bucky is coming to town.
Tony: Very different vibe from Santa.
Steve: The pumpkin fest is next week. I do not need this right now. The tourists are always a pain in the ass and now the Ghost of Sanditon returns?
Tony: Why do you know this?
Steve smiled. No way he was missing their reaction.
Steve: I got a budget thing, I’ll tell you over drinks tonight. Clint’s at 5?
Darcy: I’m already here, so yes.
Steve: Darcy, it is 1:30.
Darcy: I’m writing, I promise.
Tony: Ah, yes, my sister, the great American novelist.
Darcy: I have to figure out how Sarah and Max are gonna fuck for the first time.
Tony: Well, can’t say I’ve had hetero relations in a hot minute, but from what I remember, his penis will go in her vagina, she probably won’t get off, but he’ll be generally satisfied because he saw boobs.
Darcy: I’m writing a romance novel, not your high school experience.
Tony: I was only bad at it because I didn’t care about the boobs!
Steve: I swear to God, you two. Clint’s. 5.
Steve was sure the conversation would continue without him while he finished his workday - it always did - but letting Tony and Darcy bicker in chat was one of the standards of their little found family.
Steve had spent his whole life - sans four years for college in Maine - in Sanditon, Connecticut, population 6,284. Born, raised, the whole nine, and he had spent most of the first twenty years glued to the sides of James “Bucky” Barnes and Darcy Stark. They were the Three Musketeers and much of the town gossip for their formative teenage years centered around which of the two boys Darcy was going to marry. Would she go for the wealthy, but kind, James, whose family could trace its lineage back to the American Revolution? Or Steve, with his blond hair and blue eyes and helpful attitude, whose family had only moved to Sanditon just prior to Steve’s birth?
The question became slightly moot when Steve came out of the closet at homecoming their junior year, because everyone just assumed it would be Darcy and Bucky, in that way that small towns have about pretending that the whole world exists within its limits.
What no one knew was that James had actually come out first, to Steve and Darcy, and Darcy’s brother Tony, and that Bucky and Steve started fooling around shortly after. They also didn’t know that Bucky was petrified to come out to his family, sure that they’d disown him, and so Tony, Darcy, and Steve had all made sure to keep him safe.
Until the summer after their sophomore year of college, when Bucky’s grandfather lit their lives on fire.
But now Bucky was coming back.
Nope, Steve shook his head sharply, shaking Bucky from his thoughts, as he grabbed his coat to walk over to Matt Murdock’s office for his 2:30 meeting. James Barnes is coming back. Bucky doesn’t exist anymore.
James Barnes did not sweat through his shirts.
He was calm. Cool. Collected. All three at all times.
Which did not explain why he was on his fourth shirt of the day as his plane landed in Danbury Municipal Airport.
“James,” Natasha said calmly. “You need to calm down.”
Calm down? he wanted to hiss. Calm down. You called Steve Rogers to tell him I was coming and found out I can’t land a plane on Tony Stark’s land which used to belong to my family before everything went to complete shit and no one told me that Tony bought it for him and Darcy and that doctor he married and Jesus Christ how am I supposed to calm down when I am now fifty-seven minutes away from my childhood?
Instead, he replied, “Thank you for your infinite wisdom, Natasha, I’ll get right on that.”
His eyes scanned the horizon as they flew north. It had only been about three weeks since his grandfather died and so much was still in flux. He needed this one thread tied off quickly so that he could move on.
He returned to the papers in his lap, flipping through the cost projections and profit and loss statements for his family’s toy factory from the past three years. There was no option but to shutter it, really. At least none that made financial sense. The hiring processes had been terrible - as James flipped through performance reviews from the HR files, it appeared that people were perpetually promoted for who they were, rather than what they were capable of.
Maybe if he’d been given the reins a few years ago, he could have righted the ship. But now it was simply too late.
He ran his hands through his hair - knowing that the more he fussed with it, the larger it would get. He’d always had fluffy hair - which Darcy would tease him was full of secrets after Mean Girls came out - but he usually kept it gelled and tamed. Something about heading back to Sanditon was evidently defeating his professionalism.
“The hotel is booked,” Natasha’s steady voice interrupted his thoughts. “The car will pick us up - the driver’s name is Hogan -”
James snorted an interruption, “Of course it is. Happy’s run that company since I was a kid.”
“-and he’ll transport us to the Sanditon Arms where we’re booked for the next three nights. Your first meeting with Mr. and Ms. Van Dyne is tomorrow at 8am,” she finished. “I’m assuming there are places to get dinner in this town?”
James smiled, but it was without joy. “A few, yeah. There’s your standard diner, a pizza place that claims to be New York style, your obligatory bar with pub grub - it was called Al’s, no idea what it is now - and if we drive back out a bit I heard they built an Olive Garden in the next town over.”
Natasha snorted. “I did not leave Manhattan to eat faux-Italian food. We’ll take our chances with the bar, I suppose.”
James nodded decisively and allowed himself to get lost in thought again.
He knew the town narrative was that he’d broken up with Steve - which was technically true - but nothing was as simple as the calcified narrative made it seem. Steve had broken his heart just as much as Bucky had broken Steve’s. He’d given Steve a choice to stay together in the terms his grandfather had set and Steve chose to not accept terms.
James snorted, but quickly covered it with a cough so that Nat wouldn’t take notice. ‘Chose not to accept terms’ had been his way of classifying Steve’s decision for over a decade, but now… Now they just sounded like words his grandfather would use and James wasn’t so sure he wanted to be his grandfather.
He shook his head as though to clear it as the pilot announced they were landing.
Well, he steeled himself, this is a simple thing. You just go in, shut the factory down, sell off the remaining Barnes family assets, and get out. No need to catch up with Tony or to see Darcy or to talk to Steve on personal terms. He’s the mayor and I just need his help to move things quickly so I can leave Sanditon behind me completely.
This isn’t personal, Barnes, he reminded himself. Business is never personal.
If he knew how quickly he’d be eating those words, James probably wouldn’t have felt quite as positive as he cooly greeted Happy and climbed into the town car.
“CLINT,” Tony bellowed as he opened the door. “We have conversed regarding the serving of alcohol to my sister prior to the clock’s strike of five.”
“And,” Darcy bellowed right back from her seat at the bar, where she was still ostensibly writing. “We have conversed about you not being an overprotective and nosy ass, so I guess everyone needs listening lessons.”
“The fuck is that way you’re talking, Stark,” Clint called from behind the bar. “Is it 1865 and someone forgot to tell me?”
“I wouldn’t put it past him to invent time travel and forget to tell all of us,” Sheriff Sam Wilson smiled into his lager and eyed Darcy, who smirked back.
“You gonna keep drinking piss water, Wilson?” Darcy sassed. “Or you feel like graduating to real alcohol anytime soon?”
“Fuck off, Princess,” Sam replied good naturedly. “Piss water means that I have my head on straight when I inevitably have to keep you and your brother from actually killing each other in, oh, about three hours?”
Darcy threw a napkin at him. “I only kill Tony when he deserves it.”
“Which is every day,” Clint snarked back and went to get Tony’s favorite whiskey down from the shelf and poured two fingers with one ice cube.
“Why has no one answered my question?!” Tony demanded as he kissed Darcy on the cheek and pulled Sam into a hug. For even while he was throwing around ridiculous accusations which would be roundly ignored by his circle of friends, he had to touch each one of them to let them know they were loved. It was the Stark way.
“Can you remind me why I married him?” Dr. Stephen Strange murmured to Steve from his position at their table.
“If I recall your proposal correctly, it was something about him making your life more exciting,” Steve replied as he took a sip of his stout.
“I’d like to retract,” Stephen replied as his husband planted himself on his lap and gave him a loud, intentionally obnoxious, kiss.
Steve laughed and called for Darcy to come to the table, which also brought Sam, and Steve cocked an eyebrow at his friend. She made a face that to most people would look innocuous but Steve was fluent in Darcy. Ah, so she wants him for more than a fuck buddy, and doesn’t think he wants her because she’s herself. This is going to be fun.
“Chair?” Steve murmured to Stephen, noting the other man had his prosthetics off.
“The weather change,” Stephen replied in an equally low voice. “Scar tissue swelled up and I honestly just could not be arsed today.”
Tony shoved his face in between them and asked what they were whispering about. Steve was about to answer, when Stephen simply kissed his husband and guided Tony’s hand down to the bottom of his knee. Tony’s face twisted into an expression Steve couldn’t name, but that made him unspeakably jealous.
“You called this meeting, Rogers,” Stephen said evenly, as he raised his voice to address the table. “Don’t keep us in suspense any longer than necessary.”
“So, James Barnes is on his way here now-”
He was interrupted by cries of what the hell from Clint - blatantly eavesdropping from behind the bar- and who is that from Sam, who was newer to town, and waited for appropriate information to be disseminated.
“Ooo, this is a fun game,” Tony clapped his hands. “So, he’s got the factory, but let me guess why Steve knows that Bigwig Barnes is making his grand return.”
“Tony,” his husband gently admonished him. “Use proper names.”
“It is his proper name, babe,” Tony affirmed with a sly grin. He popped off of Stephen’s lap suddenly - causing Stephen to huff slightly as he readjusted his wheelchair in light of the movement - and dragged a chair to the table. Steve rolled his eyes at the dramatics.
“Get on with your guessing, Stark,” Steve said. “Jeopardy starts in two hours.”
“He’s got a plane and I own the only part of town that you can land those on, so my guess is that he called your office to either, a: get an official escort from Danbury to here so his progress was not impeded by peons, or b: get me to let him land on my property like he wasn’t a fuckwit who broke my best friend’s heart into goddamn smithereens not twenty years ago and made my sister cry,” Tony looked straight into Steve’s eyes as his voice shifted from jovial to serious with that last phrase.
“B,” Steve affirmed. “But his assistant called and she didn’t know it was owned by you because of your weird tech magic, I’m guessing.”
“Oh, fuck, that worked?” Tony turned surprised eyes at Stephen. “See, I told you I could make the cloaking device work.”
“I’m so proud,” Stephen said drolly, but everyone could see the spark of love in his eyes.
“Well he can’t,” Tony replied and looked at Darcy for confirmation. She nodded swiftly and leaned forward on the table.
“He doesn’t set foot anywhere we own without an apology,” she replied.
“Well, that’s gonna be a challenge,” Sam interrupted.
“Why’s that?” Steve asked.
“Because unless strangers in three piece suits usually show up in the bar on Wednesday evenings and you folks forgot to tell me, I think your boy just walked in.”
Steve nearly toppled his chair twisting around on it to see the door. Standing just inside and next to a woman with long red hair and shoes that could probably actually kill people, was the only man he had ever loved.
The bar had other patrons in it, sure, but it wasn’t like Barnes wouldn’t notice them immediately. Steve rose to his feet and strode to the door. Better just rip the damn Band-Aid off. The woman with James moved to a table a few feet away and settled herself in, giving James and Steve privacy of sorts.
“James,” Steve said, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep from touching the man. “I heard you were on your way.”
The gray eyes that used to know every piece of Steve - both body and soul - did a full once-over before settling back on Steve’s face. He replied, “I got some business to take care of.”
“We heard.” Steve widened his legs in a defensive stance. “I’m sorry about your grandfather.”
“No you’re not,” James laughed. “No one is. He was a bag of dicks.”
Steve felt like he’d been shot. “Bag of dicks” had been Bucky’s favorite phrase to describe anyone he didn’t like and Steve hadn’t heard it since the last time they saw each other.
“Condolences nonetheless,” Steve ground out. “Well, the town hasn’t changed a whole lot since you were here - I hear you’re at Sharon’s for the next couple nights.”
“Did she buy it from Peggy?”
No, I’m not doing walk down memory lane catching up shit, Steve thought and fought to keep his fists from clenching. “Peggy’s still around, just not running the inn every day. Sharon’s cooking is better, so make sure not to miss breakfast. If you need anything, most of us are pretty helpful.”
“I’m not,” Tony called from the table.
“Didn’t think you would be, Stark,” James looked over Steve’s shoulder to the gathered group.
“Glad you remember something,” Tony continued. Steve held up a hand to cut off his friend, shocked when Tony heeded it.
“Quite a crew you’ve got back there,” James remarked.
“It’s amazing how you build family when you choose to,” Steve replied evenly. “Speaking of, Clint runs the place and his burgers are the best. Hope and Scott said you’re over there tomorrow?”
“Yeah, first thing,” James affirmed. “Well, we’ll eat quickly. Long travel day.”
“Yeah, the private plane up from Manhattan is sure a hardship,” Darcy replied.
“Clint, I think the music could do with being a little louder,” Stephen interjected.
“Can I come to your office tomorrow, Steve?” James asked, lowering his voice. “Professionally, I mean; a meeting with the mayor. I want to explain some of my plans now that Jackwagon is dead.”
Steve swallowed. How can he be completely familiar and completely foreign all at once? “City Hall hasn’t moved and I’m always happy to meet with members of the business community.”
James nodded and opened his mouth to speak again before shutting it gently. Instead, he took a deep breath and looked Steve right in the eye. “I look forward to learning about how you run the town, Mr. Mayor. It was what you were always meant to do.”
Steve had no idea what to do with that so chose to simply nod and make his way back to the table. He caught Clint’s eye and knew the other man was heading over to take James’ order so they could get him out of the bar quickly.
“Eyes on him, please, Sam,” Steve murmured as he sat back down. “Just let me know when he and Ginger are gone.”
Tony peered at Steve for a few seconds until Steve finally made eye contact with him. “The last thing, I could hear everything else but that. You were fine until that. What did he say.”
Steve took a few breaths and felt Darcy’s hand land reassuringly on his lower back. “He said I was always meant to run the town.”
“Fuck him,” Tony growled out.
“Okay, someone explain, because that sounds like a lovely sentiment,” Stephen remarked.
“It was our dream, when we were young,” Darcy supplied, not wanting to test the limits of Steve’s anxiety. “Steve and Bucky were gonna get married - or whatever equivilent the homophobic patriarchy would allow at the time - and Bucky would run all the family shit, Steve would be mayor, and I was going to marry Jonathan Taylor Thomas and force him to move back here so I could be the high school history teacher.”
“Well, that’s specific,” Sam chuckled. “One point five outta three a’int bad, I guess.”
“I just hadn’t thought about it in a long time,” Steve smiled wanly. “Just took my breath away for a bit, it’s fine. The past is never the past, right Darce?”
“No, chicken,” she leaned in to kiss his cheek.
“Okay, enough about history repeating itself,” Tony said, a veneer of fake cheer falling over his voice, but one for which Steve was grateful. “My husband is under the impression that the 12th Doctor is the best doctor and I need back up, because it’s obviously 10.”
“You’re fucking nuts,” Darcy said. “It’s 13.”
“Dearest Darcy, you are blinded by sisterly solidarity,” Tony started and Steve let himself retreat into his head as his friends’ banter quickly became background noise. He ate something, he was sure, since Clint put food in front of him, and throughout the next several hours he attempted to process what had just happened.
The last time he had seen James Barnes was the August before their junior year of college. The fight that had driven them apart had been started by good old Barnabas Barnes, as nearly everything terrible in Sanditon was instigated by that man somehow, but Steve’s stubbornness and Bucky’s fear had played their parts too.
Steve knew that. Many, many professionals had helped him see that he made choices in the break-up as well and that his narrative that Bucky had done everything to him wasn’t helpful. He’d processed that so many times and he had thought he’d be ready to see Bucky. And perhaps he would have been.
He should have known that James Buchannan Barnes, President of Barnes Limited, would be another matter entirely.
WhatsApp Chat: #DSNotLikeThat
Darcy: u ok, pal?
Steve: I’m fine, Darce.
Darcy: You’re a goddman liar.
Darcy: *goddamn. Fucking fingers.
Darcy: Stands, though, because I’m not okay, so you can’t be okay.
Steve: You’re not okay?
Darcy: The first time we see him since it all went down? Of course I’m not fucking okay. Jesus, rogers, and you shouldn’t be either.
Darcy: Have you called Dr. Dalton?
Darcy: Are you now ignoring me?
Darcy: Steven.
Darcy: I love you, you know.
Steve: I know.
Steve: It felt like I was 20 again, but I also felt so so old.
Steve: He looks perfect still. He should be not perfect any more. That should be the law. He should have grown a troll head or something.
Darcy: No troll shaming, Steve. They’re simply misunderstood creatures.
Steve: I have to be professional tomorrow. He’s coming to the office.
Darcy: Time?
Steve: Dunno. After he sees Hope and Scott?
Darcy: Okay, i’ll come write in your conference room. Back up.
Steve: I love you, you know.
Darcy: I know.