Song: These Streets by Paolo Nutini

A/N: Plot bunnies are the best. The included lyrics are in italics and may be out of order

Disclaimer: If I owned it, you'd know it.

Chapter 1 - Thumb

Cross the border, Into the big bad world, Where it takes you about an hour, Just to cross the road, Just to stumble across another poor old soul

Leslie Knope stood at the edge of a side walk, head buried in her phone as she tried to comprehend the New York City map she had downloaded. The sun glared down against her, making it nearly impossible to see her screen, even on full brightness. She tucked her 'I Heart New York' hat further down on her head, trying to shade her eyes and her screen at the same time. Her bag hung heavy on her shoulder.

"Ok," she muttered to herself, "If Central Park is behind me, and I want to get to Dallas BBQ's…" She gestured at her surroundings with her thumb as she talked to herself.

"Whoa, watch it!" someone shouted behind her, almost directly into her ear. Leslie jumped and whirled around, successfully smacking the visor of her hat into the person. A woman stood there in work out gear, plucking her head phones out of her ear. Her lips were set in a frown.

"Oh my god, I'm so, so sorry!" Leslie stammered, turning red with embarrassment, "I didn't… see you there, I'm sorry."

The woman's frown dissolved into a neutral state, anger draining from her face. "It's fine."

"No, I'm sorry, I could've poked out your eye-"

"Seriously," the woman cut Leslie off, waving her hands, "It's fine."

They stood in silence, the woman looking bored and Leslie shifting awkwardly.

"I'm, uh, Leslie Knope," Leslie introduced herself in attempt to break the silence, sticking out her hand. This woman had been the first to talk to her since she got to the city.

"Ann Perkins," Ann returned the introduction, eyeing Leslie's hand for a moment before shaking it gingerly.

"Are you from around here?"

"Mmhm… You?"

"Ah, no. I've only been here for a week. Going back home tomorrow afternoon."

"Oh? Where are you from?"

"Pawnee."

"Where?"

"Pawnee. Indiana?"

"Never heard of it."

"Yeah, well, it's the greatest place in the world," Leslie felt herself say before she could stop herself. Ann pursed her lips. Leslie waited with baited breath until Ann let out a chuckle.

"I'm sure it is. Why are you visiting?"

"Bad break up." Was it just her, or did Ann's eyes light up?

"Oh, well, I'm sorry to hear that."

"It was, uh, probably for the better." More silence. "Hey, do you know how I can get to the nearest Dallas BBQ's from here? Everything is so confusing, and there are way too many streets…"

"I can take you there, actually," Ann said, voice unsure. Leslie widened her eyes, waiting for her stranger danger senses to kick in. None did.

"Really? Really, you would do that?"

"If you don't mind stopping by my apartment with me first."

"Wow! Thank you!"

"Don't mention it." Ann smiled warmly at Leslie, before focusing on the street. A taxi cab was making its way steadily down the street. Ann stuck her hand out, yelling. "Taxi!" loudly. By the way people turned and raised their eyebrows, Leslie figured that that wasn't what New Yorkers did. She laughed anyway and Ann beamed.

"After you," Ann said when the taxi had pulled up to the curb.

"Thanks," Leslie returned, slipping inside. Ann settled down next to her and told the cap driver her street name. "You know, I thought New Yorkers were supposed to be rude."

"Oh, please," Ann laughed, and Leslie laughed right along with her, "That's only true for some people."

From the dreary old lanes to the high-street madness, I fight with my brain to believe my eyes, And it's harder than you think, To delay this sadness, That creeps up my spine, And haunts me through the night