Story Title: It's Not a Perfect Universe
Rating: M
Disclaimer: 'Nough said
A/N: Sorry for any typos, feel free to let me know about them. See special note at the very bottom and join the lameness!

Chapter 1 – Let It Sing Me Home

August 17th, 2012, Friday

"Any messages, Dal?" Grace asked Dalia, the office's secretary as she stopped at the woman's desk. Dalia Edmund was the only other person in the office-who wasn't an intern or the mailroom clerk-who was closest to Grace's age. She was always happy and smiling and had worked feverishly for 3 months when Grace first started working at the Magazine to become Grace's friend. Grace had pushed her away at first, but with persistence tens times the amount of even Joan well, Grace gave in. Dalia was a good friend now, years later. Grace was just coming back from lunch, dropping off her usual leftovers to Dalia.

"Nope," Dalia looked up at Grace from her desk. "But the intimidator wants to see you," She said.

Grace scrunched up her face and lowered her voice. "What did I do wrong?"

Dalia shrugged, "No clue."

"Miss Polk,"

Grace looked up to see her boss, Abigail "The intimidator" Austere, calling to Grace as she stood in the doorway of her office. Other writers and proofreaders looked up, looking back and forth between Grace and Abigail and offering sympathetic glances to Grace.

"In my office, now…" Abigail ordered, straightening up. "Please," She added for emphasis.

Grace gathered up the files she'd put down and headed towards Abigail's office without so much as a nervous flinch. Grace had been the only employee at the magazine who wasn't afraid of Abigail; which was one of the reasons Abigail had hired her without any formal training. Once in the office, with the door closed, Grace sat across from Abigail.

"How long have you worked for me?" Abigail asked. Abigail Austere was a stern boss. She didn't take much shit basically. She was in her early 50's and had spent 30 years working in the magazine business. She liked to tell war stories of staying up all night just to meet a deadline and compiling a magazine layout by hand instead of by computer after writing, double proofreading and fact checking her own stories. She always wore a small string of pearls around her neck that her husband John had given her when their youngest son, Earl, married his high school sweetheart nearly ten years ago. She smelled of the newest, best, most expensive perfumes, and she always wore power suits that had skirts, claiming she hated pants. There were deep wrinkles in her forehead from years of dedication and struggle. The corners of her lips, when she sat expressionless, turned down out of years of gravity mistaken for grouchiness like the face of an old bulldog.

"Uhm…just under four years," Grace replied, unsure where this was going. Grace had changed in the 6 years she'd been away from Arcadia. She'd grown up very quickly. Now she wore dress pants and button up blouses with shiny, flat shoes. She arrived at work on time and did all of her work instead of slacking. She recognized that it was time to buck up and do what was needed, and let go of childish phases. Of course, there was a reason for that. There was a reason for all of it. She hadn't been back to Arcadia since she'd left, shortly after the last time she spoke to Luke. She'd left and gone to Baltimore where she worked for two years as a diner waitress before scoring an interview with Abigail; she was given the job when she told Abigail she wasn't intimidated by her, she was intelligent and knew how to write, she needed the job more than anyone else sitting in the lobby and she offered to work for free for two weeks as a test run.

"Yes and in that time," Abigail jolted Grace back to reality, "How much vacation time have you taken?"

Grace racked her brain. "Uhm…well…4 days?" She asked, unsure.

"That's correct," Abigail informed her. "Now, from that information can you deduce what I'm going to order you to do?"

Grace raised an eyebrow. "Uhm…well, I suppose it would be to take…some time off?"

"That's correct," Abigail nodded.

"Am I…being fired?" Grace was thoroughly confused.

"Heaven's no," Abigail laughed now. "You are one of my top three writers, what with that book of yours just reaching number one on the bestseller list for how many weeks is it now?"

"Seven," Grace felt her cheeks heat up. "But, then why-,"

"In four years you've taken an average of one day off per year," Abigail closed a file and stood, causing Grace to stand as well.

"Well, yes, but-,"

"Ah-ah," Abigail stopped Grace from talking. "I want you take the month off. Paid vacation. As I understand you have one article that is being finished and going to print as of the end of the day and no future assignments yet. Therefore, after you leave today I do not want to see you back here until," Abigail looked at her desk calendar after sliding her reading glasses to her nose, "No earlier than September 10th. Is that clear?"

Grace stared at Abigail in disbelief. What was she supposed to do for an entire month with no work? She opened her mouth to protest, but Abigail shushed her.

"No arguments. This decision is final. That's all," Abigail sat back down to get back to work.

Grace lingered for a moment before leaving Abigail's office and heading for her own. Within a half an hour, she had finished her article on the latest science discovery that was rolling heads among the conservatives in Washington.

She was sitting at her desk, contemplating just what on Earth she was going to do for a full month when Drake, the mailroom clerk who also happened to be a good friend of Grace's and Dalia's, stopped at her door.

"Knock, knock," He said as he brought a handful of different sized envelopes into her office. "So I heard you got reprimanded and sent on vay-cay for a month! Paid too! Nice work, my friend. Any tips on how I can score that?"

Drake was a 27-year-old college drop out whose night job consisted of playing at the hottest local clubs from NYC down to D.C. He was a lead singer and guitarist and he dressed the part, since he was only the mailroom clerk. He had an enormous crush on Dalia for three years now, but was too chicken to do anything about it.

"You want mine? We'll swap jobs for a month," Grace sighed as she took the packages; briefly scanning through who they were from.

Drake looked at her in shock. "How could you not want a paid month of vacation?" He asked incredulously.

"What am I going to do for a month?" Grace asked.

"You could go visit your home," Dalia said as she walked in with a fax for Grace.

Grace snorted. "I haven't been there in six years," She said.

"All the more reason to return," Drake pointed out.

"You can never go home again," Grace retorted.

"Oh don't start acting all smart," Drake crumpled up a piece of paper and tossed it at Grace, who ducked out of the way of it.

"Thomas Wolfe was wrong about that," Dalia said firmly.

"Well, even so, I can't just up and leave Stone for a month to go home and play the heal-old-wounds game," Grace spoke up as she began gathering her things into her leather bag.

"Bring him with you!" Dalia suggested.

"Can I get my mail sometime today?" One of the other writers called from outside Grace's office.

"Duty calls," Drake grinned. "Call me when you decide what you're doing, I want to know." He winked at Grace and left.

"So?" Dalia asked.

"So, what, D?" Grace slid her closed laptop into an empty compartment of her bag before zipping it shut, making sure she had everything.

"So, bring Stone with you," Dalia repeated, following Grace out of her office, which she locked, and then towards the hallway and elevators.

Grace snorted. "No way. It would traumatize him, more so then I already have."

"Don't you think he deserves to know the people in your life that are important to you?" Dalia asked as the elevator doors opened.

"He already does," She commented. Dalia crossed her arms. "They're not part of my life anymore, D."

"But they…or at least some of them deserve to be part of his, like, you know the ones that could be related to him," Dalia replied as the doors started to close.

"I'll call you later, D," Grace said just as the doors shut. She sighed as she dug her cell phone out of the depths of her bag and started to dial.

August 19th, 2012 Sunday

"Are you sure this is okay?" Grace asked as she stood in the living room with Chelsea, her next-door neighbor. Chelsea and Colin Thomas lived in the house directly next to Grace's. Grace had only moved there from her ratty apartment two years ago after finally saving up enough money to feel comfortable enough to buy the house. Chelsea and Colin were 35 and 37 respectively. Colin worked at the magazine Grace worked at and had told her about the house going up for sale. He was a restaurant reviewer and often traveled across the country and to other countries for the job. Chelsea had been an RN until she was 30 and her second child, her daughter Jade, was born. Chelsea and Colin's oldest child, Pierce, had just recently turned ten.

"Oh, please, it's only for a week," Chelsea said with a wave of her hand.

Grace nodded, still feeling guilty. She had left money for Chelsea during the week to take care of whatever needed to be taken care of, against Chelsea's objections.

"You have all the numbers you can reach me at. When I check in, I'll call and give you the hotel's number and my room number," Grace continued. She was nervous. She couldn't fathom why she was even returning. Maybe she was just a glutton for torture-a masochist at heart?

Chelsea nodded. She reached out and put her hands on Grace's shoulders, looking her in the eyes encouragingly, "You're going to be fine, Grace. Take a deep breath. It's always hard the first time."

Grace nodded, breathing deeply. She ran her hand over her eyes tiredly. She'd been up since Friday mulling over and planning what she was going to do. Chelsea walked to the doorway of the living room, out into the foyer and to the bottom of the steps.

"Hey you monsters, come down here for a minute!" She called up the steps. Within seconds, three sets of feet came pounding down the stairs as their owners giggled madly.

"Jade, Pierce, why don't you come with me in the kitchen and we'll get ready to make some cookies?" Chelsea suggested.

"What about Stone?" Jade asked as she followed her mother.

"He'll be along in a minute," Chelsea assured.

Once the others were out of sight, Grace approached Stone, who was standing at the bottom of the steps looking forlorn and confused. She had never left him for longer than half of a night before. Grace crouched in front of him when he sat down on the steps. His blue eyes shined at her and she felt her heart pounding as her guilt mounted.

"Hey, listen," She said as she took the 5-year-old's hands in her own. She smiled warmly at him. "I'm gonna be gone for just a couple of days, so you're going to stay here with Chelsea, okay?"

The boy's bottom lip immediately protruded and his eyes became glossy with tears. "I don't want to," He shook his head. Grace reached out a hand and brushed his short, scraggly blonde hair out of his face, leaving her hand on his cheek.

"I know, but it's only for a little while and you're going to have fun playing with Jade and Pierce and I'll be back before you know it," Grace forced a smile onto her face.

Stone looked at his mommy. He could tell he wasn't going to win this argument, so he nodded sullenly and reached out to hug Grace. Grace hugged him back tightly as he stood in front of her now.

"All you have to do if you want to talk to me is let Chelsea know, okay?" Grace asked. She felt him nod into her shoulder. "I promise I'll call you every night before you go to sleep. And look," Grace reached over to the duffle bag she'd packed him. "You'll have Bark here to keep you company too," She handed him his favorite stuffed puppy, which he readily clamped onto. Grace pushed his hair out of his face once more and kissed the side of his head. "Mommy has to go now, so you go have fun making cookies," Grace stood and shooed him off. She quickly wiped at her face as he trudged up the hall into the kitchen.

"See you later Grace!" Chelsea called when Stone reached the kitchen.

"Thanks again, Chelsea," Grace said as steadily as she could before turning and leaving the house. She walked down the steps and to the curb where she unlocked her car and climbed in. She hated cars, but she understood, now, their necessity. Still, she only used it when she had to. She drove to and from work and pretty much walked or took the bus everywhere else.

Grace sat still behind the wheel for nearly ten minutes before she finally turned the car on. She was already committed to going back, before she booked a hotel and called her father to let him know. She wiped the last of her silent tears away and looked to Chelsea's house one last time. Stone was in the front window, watching her. Grace forced one last smile and waved before blowing him a kiss; then she put the car into gear and pulled onto the road.

"God do I ever hope Thomas Wolfe was wrong…" She mumbled to herself as she tried to find a tolerable radio station.

I fell by the wayside/I, fell on my knees/Cryin', why was I so hard to please/I stood at the crossroads/Took a…long look at me/Sometimes you don't know where you're from 'til you leave/And I've been out there searching/For a Place where I belong/And on my way I heard my song/Let it sing, me, home…Sun on my shoulders and the wind at my back/Bound and determined to get back on track/To where the heart is/Where It's been all along/Sometimes you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone…gone, gone, gone… And I've been out there searching/For a Place where I belong/And on my way I heard my song/Let it sing, me, home…Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah…Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah…Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, Yeah… And I've been out there searching/For a Place where I belong/And on my way I heard my song/Let it sing, me, home…

A/N: And so the next chapter already, are you surprised? How was it? Interesting eh? Thanks to Michelle and also to butterfly Dancing for Jade and Chelsea respectively! Let me know what you thought and if I should continue or not. Thanks again.

Chapter title is from "Sing Me Home" by Tim McGraw. I suggest checking out any of the songs I use for my chapter titles, simply because I think they're awesome songs!

Thanks Tiff for popping this story's review cherry! Sorry, I forgot about the site thing! Sorry!

NOTE: For those of you who want to be lame and join in cheesy fun goodness known as RPing our own season three-ish, go to my info page and email me! Yes we know it's lame, but dude you know it's fun! We're setup on greatest journal. I will supply you with a link to check it out if you're interested in being lame too!