This story was based on a request from blacksheepdomination recently, who mentioned loving to read a post-S4 AU series where Tracy is present in the episodes. While I can't write a complete series, or create an AU universe where Tracy was alongside the gang, the prompt did inspire me to write a few one-shots of other instances where Tracy and Ted's lives paralleled and intersected. This will likely just be a handful of stories, taking place during various events between seasons 4 and 8. I'm excited to write this. I hope you all enjoy it! This first chapter takes place during S4E22, "Right Place, Right Time".

"It's so easy from above, you can really see it all

People who belong together, lost and sad and small."

- "From Above", Ben Folds

May 2009

Tracy walked down West 82nd, taking her usual route towards work. She was working double-shifts at the piano bar, trying to save up as much money as possible before school started up in the fall. She was looking forward to being back in class, to work towards something so important. But it meant having to do without that steady stream of income she'd been so used to these past three years.

However, she knew she'd be ok. She had a decent amount in her savings, and had the financial support of her parents when needed, for which Tracy was grateful. All she needed was to find a new roommate come fall; Kelly was moving to Philadelphia for a couple of years to get her MBA, so Tracy was going to be without her best friend for a little while.

She was positive that things would be alright, though. Despite the hardships of the past four years, Tracy always tried to remain hopeful about things. She'd find a roommate, she was certain of that. Besides, she told herself as she turned into an alley separating two apartment buildings, she didn't have any real problems.

Life was way more difficult for other people, she thought as she looked down at the homeless man sitting amidst the trash and the random items and knick-knacks he collected.

"Hi, Milt!" she told him, handing over the coffee and sandwich she held in her hands.

For a few months now, Tracy would spot the homeless man as she walked by, always stopping to hand over some change. She eventually built a rapport with Milt, bringing him something to drink and eat when she saw him, as well as chatting with him. She knew he was harmless, but mentally unstable; it was a heartbreaking reminder of what much of the city's homeless population went through, and it made Tracy all the more eager to start up on her economics degree.

It was fate, she figured, bumping into Mitch that night at the club over a year ago. Tracy wasn't even supposed to go out for St. Patrick's Day, she didn't want to, but it led to her having a nice—albeit awkward—heart-to-heart with him about what she wanted to do with her life. After Max's passing, Tracy sure as hell didn't feel like doing anything; she felt aimless and without purpose.

But now, things were a whole lot different. She finally felt as if she were doing something worthwhile with her life. Something was telling Tracy, deep down, that she was supposed to be at Columbia this fall. There was a pull, telling her to get an economics degree, for her to help in any way to end poverty. And she couldn't wait to get started.

"Hey, little lady!" Milt said happily, removing his headphones from his ears and placing the orange on his lap, accepting the food eagerly. "I haven't seen you in a few days."

"Went to visit my parents in New Jersey," she explained apologetically, reaching into her purse for a couple of dollars. "Hey, where are your fancy charts?"

Milt had a habit of collecting things he'd find in the trash, his most recent acquisition being a bunch of charts someone must've tossed away after a presentation. He saw value in many of the things he'd find, which made Tracy think he must've had some hoarding problem back when he had a home. Sadly, it wasn't uncommon for hoarders to eventually end up on the streets.

"I sold them!" he said proudly, taking a sip of his coffee. "For a million dollars!"

Tracy raised her eyebrows skeptically. "Someone gave you a million dollars, Milt?"

"Well, no," he admitted. "But I gave this guy my charts, and he's giving me a dollar a day for a million days."

She groaned, wanting to scream and stomp her feet in anger. Too many people liked to play tricks on homeless people; whoever this person was must've thought it'd be fun to take Milt's charts while promising an extravagant amount of money. Sure, those pieces of posterboard may not have been anything special, but they felt important to Milt, so to take advantage of someone who didn't know any better was just inhumane.

"Milt," she said calmly, in a soothing tone. "Are you sure whoever this person was will give you any money? A million dollars is a lot for a handful of charts."

He smiled wide. "I know! Sucker, right?" he said boastfully. "I made four dollars off of him so far! Nice guy, though; gave me his bagel yesterday. In fact, he literally just stopped and gave me my daily dollar 30 seconds before you showed up."

Tracy's eyes softened; so this guy wasn't playing a joke on Milt. She quickly took a few steps back towards the sidewalk, looking up and down eagerly. She wasn't sure who she was looking for; this guy was likely long gone by now, having blended in with the rest of the pedestrians.

It seemed this person was honoring his promise. Obviously, the million dollars wasn't going to happen, but a dollar a day was still more than what other people tended to give. And that gave Tracy hope, that there were still a few decent people left in the world.

She walked back over to Milt. "Well, that's good to hear," Tracy said encouragingly. "You'll rack up that million dollars in no time!"

"Yep!" he agreed. "Need to save some money and get myself a new music player." Milt looked down at his orange, the skin turning brown, starting to mold. Tracy would have to pick up a new orange for him the next day, she decided.

"I see a new one in your future, Milt," she said knowingly with a grin. "Anyway, I'm going to be late for work. I'll see you tomorrow!"

"See you tomorrow, Tracy!" he said, already digging into his sandwich.

Tracy smiled and turned around, walking back onto the sidewalk, continuing her journey towards work. Her little visit with Milt gave her a renewed sense of purpose, motivating her a little bit more. She'd help him—and hundreds of people like him—someday, she vowed. She wouldn't let Milt down.

And with allies like this mystery dollar-a-day man, and others like him, Tracy knew that she wouldn't be going at it alone.