Disclaimer: I don't own the Fosters, only the plot and any characters you don't recognize from the show.

Author's Note: I can't believe it's been two months since I last updated ! I am so so sorry! Thanks to all you who are still reading. Hopefully, I'll get back on track and update more frequently, but Ochem is kicking my ass right now...However, the Fosters is on again, so that may provide me with enough motivation. Anyway, as usual, read and review please! I love seeing your comments.

Chapter 6: The Grand Tour

Becky awoke with a gasp, sitting up in bed quickly. That dream had been so real. She'd run away from home, from the monsters, and ended up with these quirky people in this crazy place they called Haven and they'd promised to keep the monsters away...oh wait, not a dream, she remembered, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and taking in the strangeness of the room she was sleeping in. There was a little bit of light streaming in through the window shade, enough for her to note that the room just seemed different...the door was in the wrong place...the bed oriented crosswise under the window instead of jutting out into the room...the decorations were off...it wasn't bad, just different. She could get used to it though. If they let me stay...

Pushing that thought from her mind for the moment, Becky opened the shades to let the light in and grabbed clean clothes from her bag, jeans and a long sleeve shirt, topping the outfit with a lightweight, sleeveless hoodie, and twisting her (mostly) dry hair into a messy bun. Conscientious that she was in a stranger's house, she neatly folded her pajamas and tucked them into her bag, before making the bed. Yes, they had said this was to be her room, but she had learned never to take anything for granted.

When she opened the door, she heard voices coming from downstairs, so she decided to follow them. She saw Lena in the kitchen, talking to an unknown man with shoulder-length, curly hair. Becky immediately shrank back, before they saw her, but didn't notice Stef coming up behind her and almost fell. Stef caught her gently and gave her a long look.

"Up already? Come, meet Wyatt, our architect," she said, guiding Becky into the kitchen.

"Oh, hi Becky," Lena said, when she saw her. "Did we wake you, talking? Callie said she wouldn't be surprised if you slept the clock around?"

"I have trouble trying to sleep during the day; I'm surprised I slept at all," Becky said with a shrug, staring at her feet.

"Well, you had a long day yesterday. I'd like you to meet Wyatt. Becky, this is Wyatt, Callie's husband, father of the twins, and our resident architect. Wyatt, this is Becky, our new arrival."

"Nice to meet you, Becky," he said, remaining seated on one of the bar stools surrounding the counter, the fact of which made Becky breathe slightly easier, though some may consider it rude. "I just dropped by to talk to Stef and Lena about a new bathhouse design I want to put up." He turned to Lena. "You never did tell me what you thought," he said, motioning toward the papers on the counter.

"As usual, it sounds great. You know, you don't have to ask permission."

"Eh, I like the feedback. And access to the funds."

"Well, it sounds great. It'll certainly be useful. Check with Marge, about the treasury, and just follow the Golden Rule-"

"If you don't gotta pay full price for it, don't!" Wyatt said with a smile.

"And see who is on the roster for construction help."

"I was thinking about turning over the lead to Jeremy this time, to try him out in it; he really seems interested in the work and is around for every project. And he's getting good."

"You're thinking he may have a future as a site foreman?"

"It's looking pretty good."

"Well, give him the supervisory experience, any skills..."

"Blueprint reading, for one"

"...and we'll see. Tell me how it goes, and I'll start a search of my contacts, to see if anyone I know is hiring in that field. We could put him back on his feet again."

"That's always the plan," Stef added.

"I'll keep you updated, not like you need it. You ladies always seem to know everything that's happening around here," Wyatt said with a wink, rolling up the papers. He was out the door in the next instant.

Lena turned to Becky. "Sorry about that, hun, poor timing. But you got to meet Wyatt!" Becky was still standing there, unmoving. Lena sighed. "He wouldn't hurt a fly, I swear. Fact is, Wyatt's been known to step around caterpillars and rehome worms at a construction site. He got into Buddhism while he lived in Indiana, and came back saying that all living creatures could have been his mother in a past life."

"Right." Becky wasn't convinced; she'd learned at a young age that people weren't always what they seemed. But Lena looked like she was expecting an answer.

"Hungry?" Stef asked. "You didn't eat much when you got in, and you've been asleep a little over three hours."

"A little," Becky admitted, though truthfully her stomach was growling.

"Well, why don't I whip you up a sandwich for now, since dinner is just a couple hours away?"

"Okay."

"What's your pleasure? Turkey, roast beef, pb&j, tuna salad, grilled cheese?"

"Uhh...pb&j?"

"Pb&j it is. Wheat or white, strawberry or raspberry, crunchy or creamy? We've got a lot of options."

Becky's eyes widened slightly. Well, they were the "sandwich ladies" after all..."Uhh...wheat, raspberry, creamy, please."

"Right-o." In less than a minute, Becky was presented with a sandwich, neatly cut in half, sitting on a plate in front of her. The speed of it surprised her. "Eat up." And she had never tasted a better sandwich.

"Now that you've eaten, do you feel up for a tour?"

"Sure." Finally, some answers about what this place is! Although that conversation with Wyatt was interesting about what it implied...

"Okay, let's go." They led her outside the house. "So, we're not sure how much you've been told or not, so we'll just go over everything."

"And jump in with any questions, yeah?"

Becky nodded. "Yeah."

"This is the original ranch house; it was here when we bought the place, though it didn't have the sunspace. That was just a large deck before we enclosed it."

"It was Wyatt's idea."

"And a great one, at that. Most of the other buildings have been put up since, except the barn, which was pretty rundown. You've probably seen the bed-cabins out the window..."

"Yeah."

"Well, we won't go through those, but if you're interested to see what one looks like inside, you can ask one of the kids. Same with the houses; ask a resident. People always wonder how folks can live so small."

"Stef, let's start with the why before the what," Lena broke in.

"Oh yeah, of course. Well, it was your idea, you explain it."

"So, a few years back, after all the kids were either in college or working, we had a small issue coming to terms with an empty nest, which happens when you have five kids within about 4 years of each other. We knew we needed something new, something different to do. We were debating about renewing our foster-care license and taking in more kids, until I heard about this place by chance from one of my friends. They – she and her partner – wanted a simpler life, out of the city, and found this place. They actually ended up not buying it – preferring inside to travel the country in a RV full-time – but I kinda fell in love with the idea."

"She talked me into it," Stef said, nudging Becky with a wink and a grin.

"Like you were that hard a sell." Lena rolled her eyes. "It was pretty rundown, so not all that expensive once we sold our home in San Diego, even on the salaries of a detective and a school administrator. Oh, and less acreage than now, but I'll get to that. So, we moved. Given the distance from San Diego, we had to adjust jobs a bit – Stef joined the local cops as a detective..."

"Not like there are many crimes out here in the boonies"

"...and I retired early, taking some part time, at-home work..."

"Well, with 5 kids with college loans..."

"Who is telling this story?"

"Sorry, love."

"Anyway, we started fixing up the place ourselves until Stef met this guy in town." She paused."

"Oh, so my turn now?"

"Yeah. Your part of the story."

"His name is Adam. You'll probably meet him. He's been the longest tenant here about from us. Adam was...down on his luck...when we met him, but he was handy. Really handy. And he couldn't stand the city, even though he'd have more options and better luck finding a job there. So, we offered him a job."

"You offered him a job."

"Who's interrupting now? Besides, you didn't complain. We gave him a sort of handyman/caretaker job, salary not particularly good but free rent once we got a cabin built. And that was the first of the small cabins. Lena?"

"It was unexpected, but our relationship with Adam kinda got me thinking. What if there were other people out there like him, down on the luck, not having an easy time in the city? There are shelters and soup kitchens and food banks and thrift stores and showering facilities in the city – crowded, but they're available – but not in the country, so you're pretty much forced into the city."

"And its increased crime rates."

"After a little digging around, it turns out we weren't the only ones who felt this way. So we sent out tendrils of interest, and found a slew of people to help. And a couple of philanthropists. Now, a few years later, this is what we offer: a ready-made cabin all of their own, food, clothing, job training, rehabilitation, a school for their kids and/or their GEDs, medical care..."

"A community." Becky remarked. They had passed through several little groupings of houses, all painted in bright colors. They ranged from the very small (less than a hundred square feet Becky would guess) to the slightly less small (still under 300 square feet or so).

"Exactly. A community. Everyone who comes here helps out. Some work in the communal kitchen, learning skills in cooking and baking. Others work in construction. We're looking into starting, with Callie's help, a nursing assistant program so we can train young people for a job and help older folks. People get help starting small craft businesses, or learning new skills. Some provide childcare while the parents learn new stuff. Everyone pitches in with the cleaning and gardening chores."

"Do they stay?"

"Some do. It's our goal to get them independent if possible. Most stay a few months, learn some new skills, and find jobs in our vast network of people. Work experience can go a long way, even outside our network. It's a Catch-22: you can't get a job without work experience, and you can't get work experience without a job. We provide the work experience and references."

"And a place to recover. Homelessness, long-term unemployment, disability – it can take a real toil on a person, mind and body. We offer community, health care, people to talk to, worker retraining..."

"Hope," Becky said suddenly.

Both Stef and Lena looked at her warmly. "Precisely," Lena said. "Hope. Some people have more trouble integrating back into the" – she raised her hand in finger quotes – "real world. They stay longer. It's not a life for everyone. Yes, we provide what you need to survive, but there's no salary, not much in the way of extras. Not exactly the typical American Dream lifestyle."

"There's a couple of people who have made it work for them. Two own a craft business together, another's a freelance web designer. They make decent money, and tithe a portion of it to Haven."

"Is that a rule?"

"Oh, no. We don't require it. But a lot of people ending up giving back if they can. There's only so much money to keep this place going, with donations and such forth, and folks know that their money is going to help others in similar conditions to what they were in when they arrived. We're also pretty frugal."

"If you don't gotta pay full price, don't?"

Stef smiled. "Yep. Our motto, at least when it comes to funds."

"But you do more than that?"

They were interrupted then. "Lena! Stef!" A smiling plump lady with apple cheeks came out one of the houses. "Oh, you have someone new with you?"

"Yes, Gretchen, this is Becky. She's new. Becky, this is Gretchen. She owns the craft business we were talking about."

"Well, partial owner," Gretchen said, blushing slightly. "Welcome, welcome! So pleased to meet you!" She pumped Becky's hand exuberantly. "You should stop by the kitchen; they have delicious new cookies!"

"Thanks for the heads-up," Lena said, gently steering Becky away, who looked a little overwhelmed.

As they walked away, Stef looked at Becky conspiratorially. "That's Gretchen for you, probably the friendliest one around. She's partnered in the business with Joanie, who is almost her polar opposite."

"Polar opposite of friendly? She's hardly a psychopath."

"I meant she's not a people person, so much."

"Ah. True. Very creative but not a people person. Shy, I'd say."

"Anyway, where were we?"

"I asked about how the other stuff you did fit into all this?"

"Other stuff?"

"Like the sandwich van, or taking in kids."

"Oh right, we've really only told you about the adults. The sandwich van was actually something we started before even coming here, as a way of trying to help adults and kids on the street. It was hard to separate my job as a cop, especially with the kids, but I also knew that if I came to them as a cop, they'd most likely run in the other direction. Lena didn't have that problem. Sometimes, we were able to steer them into shelters, good ones," she said, noting Becky's raised eyebrows, "or other services, but at least they were able to get some necessary stuff. But between that work and our work with foster kids, we realized the system was cracked, if not broken. Sometimes it worked, but sometimes it really failed a kid. And so, a few years after Haven-for-adults started, we decided to do something about the kid situation outside the system. Dani was one of the first; she's been here the longest. Many reintegrated, either after a short time here, when we were able to help them with the problems that kept them running, or after they turned 18 and no longer needed to run. Not that we ever kick anyone out," she said reassuringly.

"There are some ground rules. Violence is a bad no-no. In the rare cases that it's happened, we set up a sort of community meeting where both individuals have the chance to explain what has happened. That's for the occasional scuffle, or some such. But if someone does something to make someone else feel unsafe, they're asked to leave. Sometimes they have the ability to make amends; it depends on the injured party in that case."

"Anything else?"

"Well, other things are frowned upon. Shirking, excessive drinking, causing a nuisance...minor offenses like that usually lead to a series of sit-downs and warnings. We try to work things out, not throw people out, and so far, we've been remarkably successful."

"Fingers crossed."

"Yep."

"Well, we're by the kitchen," Lena said, pointing out a massive barn. "Let's go check out those cookies Gretchen was talking about." Becky didn't need much persuading; the smells coming out of there were heavenly.

The barn turned out to hold a kitchen and lots of trestle tables and benches. There were two women and two men working hard in the kitchen. "Usually not much more than a camp-stove can fit in the cabins, so people tend to take their meals communally." Stef had to speak up so Becky could hear her over the noise.

One of the men looked up at the sound. "Stef! Lena! New person! Hi!" He rushed over, pressing cookies into their hands. "You have to tell me what you think. I thought up this recipe last night and just had to try it. But don't burn your tongues; they're hot out of the oven."

Becky took a bite, and thought she'd died and gone to heaven. Nothing could have matched the sweet perfection in her mouth. "Hmm..." she said, thoughtfully. "Dried cherries, white chocolate chips, pecans...is that coconut?"

"Yes! You've got quite the set of taste buds, young lady."

Becky flushed. "I used to like to bake."

"Well, you should come down here and join me whenever you feel like it."

Lena interrupted. "How about introductions first? Becky, this is Jay, our resident baker. He makes the most delicious sweets. Jay, this is Becky. She is, as you already guessed, new here."

"As I said, come down, come down. Don't just stay up in the house. I know you've got a kitchen there, but there's more mouths down here."

"Maybe I will, I mean, if it's okay..." she looked up at Stef and Lena in turn, eyes asking permission.

Stef answered. "Of course it is. You're free to go anywhere, at any time, as long as you respect your commitments, like school."

"Speaking of which, we should probably head over there now," Lena said.

"Think you'll be down for dinner today?" one of the women asked.

"I think we shouldn't overwhelm Becky too much on her first night. Introduce her to our brood first, and then maybe tomorrow night if she feels up to it."

"Okay, sure. Sounds good."

As they were leaving, Jay slipped something warm into Becky's hand. She looked down, saw another cookie, and gave him a small smile. Stef watched the interaction, given Becky's earlier reaction to Wyatt. She seemed to feel completely unthreatened by Jay. She filed that away in her memory for later, along with a mental note to push the girl into spending time in the kitchen.

Lena led the way to a building not far from the barn, and Becky did not have to guess what it was for. As strange and untraditional most of the other buildings were, this was the quintessential little red schoolhouse. The door was open, Lena took them inside. Immediately Becky realized that this building was old-fashioned in more ways than one; it was all one room. But in other ways it was quite modern. There were groups of tables and chairs, some beanbags on the floor near a short bookshelf, a few computers along one way, blackboards as well as a projector in the front. It was an odd combination of new and old, and she quite liked it. There was a man at the front of the room, tall and dark-haired, facing away from them.

"Hey Jude," Stef said. The man whirled around.

"Hasn't that joke worn itself out by now?" he asked with a smile. "Hi moms."

"Hey Jude," Lena said grinning. "Never wears old. After all, it's a song old people like right?" All the adults broke out laughing. Becky stood in the back, confused. Some inside joke, she finally decided.

"Who's this?"

"This is Becky; she's new. She's...how old are you?"

"Fifteen."

"She's fifteen. You can place her later. Becky, this is Jude, our youngest son who happens to be the teacher. He took over the school for me last year, after he graduated from college. We worked together for a while."

"I live and work here, so we'll probably see a lot of me."

"Jude's a writer, so the arrangement works out for him. He published his first novel while he was still in high school," a proud Stef boasted.

"Mommmm..."

"What? It's true."

"It was senior year, no big deal."

"No big deal? Of course it was a big deal. And I'm allowed to have pride for my kids. I'd be proud of you even if you were a garbage collector."

Jude rolled his eyes. "If you say so, Mom."

"Are you coming over for dinner?" Lena asked

"Maybe another night. Why don't you get Becky settled in tonight with your lot before adding random people to the mix?"

"You're our son. Hardly random."

"Another time. Sometime we should talk Mariana and Brandon out too, and have a big family dinner."

"Thanksgiving is coming up next week. They should be out then. But do join us sometime this week, will you? The kids see you more than we do. And bring Will with you. Where's he been hiding out? It's not like you guys live far away, but I feel like I never see him."

"He's painting. I'll try to tear him away from the easel. I meant to ask, have you talked to Jesus recently?"

"He and Lexi are on some tiny organic coffee plantation in Costa Rica. They are going to try to be back for Christmas, though."

"They always end up the coolest places. I'll see you...tomorrow?" he asked Becky, with a glance toward Lena.

"Most likely." Lena answered. "We'll catch you later."

"Bye, moms. Bye, Becky."

"Bye." They left.

"That building," Lena said, gesturing towards a building near the school, of similar size, "is the library. There's no check-out process, just go in, borrow, read, bring back, repeat. Honor code. Somebody has the job of organizing and taking inventory every so often, but do your part and try not to make a mess."

"And over there are the music and craft halls. As you can probably tell, you're in a really communal area. You're welcome to anything in these buildings, they are always unlocked. Again, honor code, since some of the instruments are costly. Do you play anything?"

"Nah, never really learned."

"If you want, there are teachers around. I could introduce you. Or if you'd rather just enjoy it, we do schedule concerts pretty frequently, and impromtu jam sessions, which are pretty much concerts, start up all the time."

"Well, you've seen most of the settled parts of Haven now," Stef said. "Out that way is land and past that is a national park."

"What's down there?" Becky asked, pointing to where the sun was glinting off something shiny.

"Oh, that's the RV campground," Lena answered. "Remember that friend I was telling you about? That's her baby. It's close to the road. They have some bathroom, laundry, cooking facilities, things like that. After deciding she'd rather go on the road than by this ranch, she turned around a few years later and started that up. We interact with them quite a bit sometimes, and not so much other times. It depends on the traveler, really. Some stay for months, especially in the winter, so they come up here a lot. Others leave after only a day or two. Val, my friend, she'll usually hire a couple of people from here to do some cleaning work on the facilities. It's a good arrangement for everyone."

"I see."

"I will tell you that they do get the occasional cop through, so if that's something you'd rather avoid, I wouldn't go down there too often." Stef added.

"Right." Her eyes widened at the mention of cop. Somehow, Stef being a retired cop didn't faze her much anymore, but soon enough she'd probably be reported missing. And she'd rather not be found. Especially not here. These people had opened their home to her, and being caught "harboring a minor" could get them in some serious trouble.

"Any more questions?" Lena asked, as she let the way back to the ranch house.

"How do you not get lost?"

They laughed. "You'll learn. We're really only in a small corner of a much larger property, unless you're like Joanie, who prefers to live apart. Just, before you know your way around, if you're going to take solitary walks in the wild, tell someone where you're going and how long you'll be, so if you get lost, we know when and where to start looking."

"Makes sense. Will do."

"So, back to the house?" Lena said, linking her arm with her wife's and offering the other one to Becky. After a moment of deliberation, Becky took it gingerly, her awkwardness betraying how little practice she'd had with such a simple thing as walking arm-in-arm. But she knew what Lena was offering, and wanted a piece of it. Belonging.

Author's Note 2: So, Callie's husband and the father of her twins was finally revealed. Any surprises? Who guessed it? I admit, I was debating it for a while, but that scene when they were curled up in the motel together was so cute, and Wyatt was pretty mature through the whole running away thing, even if he did almost get her arrested earlier in their relationship. Brandon, on the other hand, is seeming a little bratty lately, besides the fact I wanted her to have a family with the Fosters and Brallie would cause problems to that effect (don't hate me Brallie lovers, please!). Sorry if this chapter seemed more explanation than anything else; I wanted you guys to get an idea of the setting and how things worked so it would make more sense in the long run. It should pick up soon. Next up – meeting the other kids and a conversation with Stef and Lena.