This isn't the next story I planned on posting, but I got the idea a couple weeks back and I'm having so much fun with it. This is an AU about Miss Hannigan (Agatha) and Grace. What if they had known each other (and were friends) before the day Grace was sent to invite an orphan to the mansion? I'm not sure how long the story will be yet, but eventually, all will lead up to 1933.

In this story, there will be a 12 year age difference between the two characters. (I know no specific ages are assigned for either of them in the film, but I usually go by the actors' ages at the time of filming unless stated otherwise.) At the start: Agatha 32, and Grace 20.

A special thanks to iloveyoumisshannigan and Silvermissstt for all of their help and support as I attempt my first Agatha-based story.

I hope you all enjoy!

1920

"I'm sorry, Miss… Hannigan, is it? Someone beat you to the room."

"I telephoned not two hours ago," Agatha said, teeth clenched and trying not to lose her temper. "The man I spoke to said it was mine. I told him I would be along soon."

"My husband neglected to run that detail by me. The person who got the room is already moving their boxes in. I can't tell them to leave now."

"Sure you can. It's no different than sending me away."

"Oh, it's quite different," the woman said, getting more frustrated the longer she stood outside in the burning sun. "I apologize for the miscommunication, but the payment is made, and there's nothing more I can do."

"This is unacceptable. You told me a week ago that my name was the top of the list. What happened?"

Letting out a grumble, the woman said, "All right, Miss Hannigan, I'll be frank with you. While you were our most considered tenant, we decided that the room best go to someone who really needs it."

"And I don't need it? Do you think I rent rooms for the fun of it?"

"No, but surely a younger tenant has fewer options than a woman of your age. You ought to be marrying soon."

"Oh gee! You know, the thought never occurred to me. Thank you so much. I'm going to run and find a man right now."

The woman's eyes rolled. "There's no need for that kind of attitude."

"Now you're speaking to me like a child? I thought I was an old maid."

"I think it's time for you to go now."

"Fine," Agatha said as she picked up her suitcases. "I didn't want to live here anyway. The place is a dump."

In reality, the building was one of the nicer ones Agatha had seen. Walking away wasn't easy. What was she going to do? How dare that woman assume she didn't need the place. Losing her mother's apartment was devastating. It was the one place she felt safe, oddly enough. Without Rooster's half of the rent, keeping it was impossible.

She had to laugh. When was the last time he showed his full part of the rent? She couldn't remember. Maybe she wouldn't be in this position if she'd put her foot down and refused to cover him for the past couple years. Now the bum landed himself in jail. It wasn't surprising the day she received the call. Since he was a teenager he'd been in and out of police custody. A born smooth talker, he managed to stay out of the bars. This time, however, he hadn't been so lucky. Her knowledge of the crime was shaky — and she intended to keep it this way — but she knew it had something to do with a robbery. Whether it was holding a gun to a poor sap on the street or one of his clever games, she didn't know nor care. Issues of her own took up most of her thoughts these days.

"Damn him. Damn them all!" she muttered as she walked without aim.

"Is something the matter?"

Agatha looked to her side and saw a young woman had caught up to her. Of course she was young. One of the last kinds of people she wanted to deal with today. "No."

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry. We happen to be going in the same direction and I couldn't help but notice you saying things to yourself. You seem upset."

"So what if I am? What are you gonna do about it?"

The younger woman shrugged. "I don't know. Listen, I suppose. If you want to talk."

"You won't be interested. It's people like you who've got me upset."

"What do you mean?"

Agatha stopped and turned to face this woman. "How old are you?"

"I'm twenty… what difference does it make?"

"Apparently people of your kind need housing more than people over thirty like me. Well, let me tell you something: It's not true."

"I'm… sorry. I don't know what else to say."

"I knew you wouldn't."

The woman nodded. "I'm sorry to have bothered you."

Agatha stood, almost laughing at God's sense of humor. Of all days for someone to be friendly to her, it had to be today. When she turned to tell the young woman to walk ahead of her, she saw that she no longer stood beside her. She'd gone on her own, walking in the other direction.

Agatha sighed. It felt good to get her anger out on someone, but now a feeling of guilt rushed over her. It wasn't the woman's fault. All she did was offer an ear. When was the last time that happened? "Hey… wait a minute," she called after her.

"Yes?" the young woman turned around, cheeks flushed.

"I'm sorry," Agatha said, now caught up. "I've been going through a rough time. I'm not used to people wanting to help. I didn't handle it well."

"It's all right. I shouldn't have intruded. You were obviously trying to work something out on your own."

"Can I buy you a coffee or something to make up for it?"

The woman shook her head, "No, don't worry about it."

"Please? I promise not to snap again."

The woman gave a shy smile, "If you really want… but please don't feel obligated."

Holding out her hand, Agatha said, "Let's start over. I'm Agatha Hannigan."

"Grace Farrell."

. . .

"So, you're from Connecticut…"

"Yep," Grace nodded. For the past five minutes, they'd stared at their coffees and struggled for conversation. While Agatha's mood lightened as they walked to the cafe, they also used up most of their small talk.

"I hear it's nice."

"It is."

Pressing a hand to her head, Agatha said, "Okay, I'm no good at this. I don't know what to say."

Grace, feeling relieved that she didn't have to be the first to admit it, replied, "I'm not either. I was always the quiet one in my family."

"I wasn't, I'm just horrible at coming up with interesting things to say. I can't remember the last time I sat down for a one on one conversation with someone. After my mother died, I was so busy taking care of my brother that I lost any ties with old friends."

"Now that sounds like an interesting story," Grace said, leaning forward with curiosity.

Agatha shook her head. "Oh, no… it's not. Believe me, you don't want to hear about my family."

"Why not?"

"Remember how you said you heard me saying some things under my breath?"

"Yes."

"Most of that was directed towards my brother."

"You don't get along?" she asked.

"You could say that," Agatha scoffed.

"I'm not trying to pry."

"It's okay," Agatha said. "I did bring it up. We used to get on well. Why shouldn't we? He's my baby brother. I love him, of course, even now. It's just… complicated."

"How old were you when your mother died?"

"Just before I turned fourteen."

"I'm so sorry."

Agatha shrugged. "It was a long time coming. The worst part was staying with my father the next couple years. After that, I took charge of my brother."

"I can't imagine how difficult that must have been."

"I won't pretend and say it wasn't. I wasn't used to my father being home so much. When my mother was alive, he would disappear for a couple weeks at a time and come home as if he'd just gone to the store. He still did afterward, but for a while not as long. Slowly, he'd go away for a week and come home for another, and then I realized one day it had been a month since we last saw him. Roost and I were better off that way. Dad wasn't there to take care of us. I still did most of the chores. He refused to do the woman's work. Anyways, once he was gone for good, I took a job and managed to keep the house running with the little bit of money my mother left us until Rooster was old enough to get a job himself."

Grace's jaw dropped. "I can't even imagine…"

Agatha chuckled. "No need to get sappy. It's in the past. I like to think I'm better for it."

"Oh, I'm sure," Grace said. "What happened with your brother?"

"He discovered that the quickest way to get money was by begging and gambling."

"How old was he when this happened?"

"I don't know, fifteen? Sixteen?"

"How about now?" Grace asked.

"Twenty-seven."

"No, I mean, is he still gambling?"

"Probably. I doubt prison will stop him."

Face reddened, Grace covered her mouth. "Oh my… I'm dreadfully sorry. I would never have asked if I'd thought-"

"Don't fret. It's best for everyone if he's there. Heck, it's one less worry for me. No more panicking when the telephone rings or if there's a knock on the door."

Grace shook her head. "I feel so terrible for coaxing you into the story."

Agatha laughed. "You worry too much, you know that? I don't mind telling the story, not that anyone has asked. I get the feeling I'm not as emotional as you — no offense."

"None taken," Grace said. "I suppose emotional is a good word for me. I was always the one who got overly excited about the presents under the Christmas tree, and the one who cried over finding a dead bird or squirrel."

"I'll bet you held a funeral for them," Agatha teased.

"…I might have."

Again she laughed. "Sounds like you have some interesting stories of your own. What brought you to the city? Can't be for the lack of animal carcasses."

Laughing along softly, Grace answered, "I was looking to start fresh. My mother died, too, when I was younger. From then on it was just me and my father. I have an older brother, but he lives out west with his family. He moved away when I was seven and now only see him every few years or so."

"Were you close?" Agatha asked.

"Yes and no. I have fond memories of him when I was very young, and we write back and forth when we have the time, but when I see him in person I never know how to approach him. He never looks as I remember him and I barely recognize his voice."

"That's too bad."

"It is, but after hearing about your brother I feel like the luckiest sister in the world."

"Ah, Rooster isn't all bad."

Straying from the topic a moment, Grace asked, "I thought I'd misheard you before. Is your brother's name really 'Rooster'?"

"Of course not, it's just a nickname. His name is Daniel. I started calling him Rooster when he was a baby because he'd always start to cry at the crack of dawn."

"Very clever," Grace smiled.

"Didn't you have a nickname for your brother? When you were younger?"

"Not that I can recall. Now and again I'd call him Dev, but that's short for his name: Deven."

"When was the last time you say him?"

"About a year ago at our father's funeral."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Thanks. He'd been in poor health for a long time, we were thankful to see an end to his suffering. It was difficult for a few months after, though. Deven came to deal with the estate, ultimately deciding to sell it. I fought to keep it, but it wasn't realistic. There wasn't a ton of money leftover, and it wouldn't have been worth putting so much into much-needed repairs. In the end, I realized how lonely it would be in the house all by myself. That's when I decided to pack up and come to New York. I visited once as a child and remembered being fascinated. I thought about the trip from time to time, and since I had nothing in mind for my life, I figured I'd take a chance and try and find work."

"Did you have something in mind before?"

"Oh yes. I looked forward to staying at home for a while longer. I wasn't sure if I wanted to attend college or not. I'm glad I waited as I couldn't have dealt with the death and the schoolwork. I figured I'd work in a shop until I married. For a while there, all I thought about was marriage. I imagined the wedding and our children — I even had sketches for our house and furniture. Funny how one event can change the course of the mind."

"I'll drink to that," Agatha said as she held up her mug before taking her last sip of coffee.

"Did you ever marry?"

"No, I wish. By the time I was able to get out there and look, I guess it was too late. That, or I'm repulsive to men."

"I highly doubt the latter."

Agatha smiled, "Thank you."

"Why are women expected to marry the minute they enter their twenties?" Grace sighed. "When I told my brother and some friends back home that I was coming to New York to work, they looked at me like I had two heads."

"I thought you said you wanted to marry?"

"I did. I mean, I do, but it's no longer my priority. I want to be able to take care of myself first, you know? It would be different if I had family around. Besides, I also want to work before I'm housebound with eight children."

Agatha gasped. "Eight children? Honey, you're making the right decision taking a job first."

With a laugh, Grace pushed her now empty coffee cup to the side. "What's so strange about eight kids? I've always wanted a large family. I guess it's because I spent most of my childhood alone."

"Before my mother died I was still taking care of Rooster. Do you have any idea what a handful little kids are?"

"Oh, I know. I used to babysit for the neighbor's children. They are a noisy handful."

"And you want eight of them?"

"I don't know, it was the first number that came out of my mouth. I'll be happy if I have one or one hundred."

"Please, I beg of you… do not have one hundred children."

"I promise," Grace chuckled.

The waitress came to their table to clear their cups and gave them the bill. Agatha treated, as she said. Both were thrilled the ice had been broken, and their conversation continued as they left the cafe.

"So, am I to assume you have no interest in children?" Grace asked as they walked.

"I would like one or two. My heart isn't set on it, though. By the time I find a husband that ship will have sailed."

Putting her hand on Agatha's arm, Grace said, "Don't say that. You're still young. There's someone out there for you."

"I wish I had your confidence. It doesn't matter, though. I have things I need to do before I can even think of a man."

"Is one of those things finding an apartment?"

"How did you know?"

Grace smirked. "It was one of the first things you said to me when we met."

Upon remembering, Agatha blushed. "Oh… that's right."

"Don't worry about it. I had a lovely time talking with you."

"Yeah, I did, too."

"Listen…" Grace said, using the shy voice she had before the cafe. "I know this is sudden and informal, but… I've been looking for a roommate. I rent a small apartment a couple blocks from here and it's been a struggle keeping it up by myself. I know we've only just met and you probably aren't looking to share a place, but I just figured until you find a place of your own-"

Stopping Grace's nervous babble, Agatha said, "Slow down, slow down. I think it's a great idea. That is, as long as you don't mind sharing a roof with an old timer like myself."

"Oh, stop it. I know there's a bit of an age difference. I'm hardly home as it is. I work at a bakery down the street in the mornings, and a deli in the afternoon. I'm hoping to get a new job soon — one that doesn't involve going back and forth."

"Sounds like we won't see much of each other. I have an evening and night job."

"What do you do?"

"Nothing exciting. I clean for several businesses — you know, banks, shops, museums, and so on."

"If I'm being honest, I'd take a job like that over dealing with hungry customers during the breakfast and lunch rush."

"Believe me," Agatha said, "You don't."

"Okay, I'll take your word for it." Reaching for one of Agatha's suitcases, Grace said, "Here, let me help you. I feel bad that you've been lugging these around."

"Thanks," Agatha grinned. "And I can't thank you enough for this. I don't know how I'll ever repay you."

"No need."

"No, really. I can't believe you'd help me out after hearing about my crazy family history."

"I don't think it's crazy. I admire you for all you've done."

"Thank you, that means so much."

"Come on," Grace said. "We aren't too far from the apartment."