A/N: This story was written for a contest for the Battery Park Lodging House. It's short, but kind of nice and goes along a bit with my story Prejudice, which is where we first meet Michel. So... go ahead, R & R. I'm hoping to develop his character through this LH and maybe write a few more fics about him. Enjoy.

First Impressions

Michel couldn't help but gawk. The building was warmer than he could've expected, made out of red brick and towering up to a black, flat roof. He wasn't sure if he should just walk in or knock on the door that loomed above his short frame. His body was still wiry thin, though he'd eaten more in the last few weeks than he had in a long time. Spitting on his fingers, he smoothed his hair down and rubbed at his face.

Going along with his quick brushing up of himself, he adjusted his clothes and looked down at his boots. He was going to be filthy looking no matter what he did. Sighing, he planted his foot on the first step to the door, hesitating. For the hundredth time that day, he felt for the few coins in his pockets, the metal cool and soothing in his small, dirty palm. Releasing them, they jingled together and the noise gave him enough confidence to walk up the steps.

It took a bit more for him to place his hand on the knob of the door, even more so to twist and push it open. Minutes seemed to pass as he barely managed these easy steps of opening a door. But he managed just fine.

With a whoosh of warm air, the door jolted forward, bringing the boy with it. It took all his strength to keep upright and he found a pair of old, amused eyes staring at him. He shut the door quickly behind him and leaned against it, taking in the man before him.

The man smiled at him, motioning for him to come forward with his old, wrinkled hands. "C'mere lad," he speaks in his grandfatherly tone, both sweet and commanding.

Michel did as he asked, approaching the desk at which he sits with caution. "I'm Mr. Henderson," the elderly man says, "and just who might you be?"

"Michel..." the word formed uncomfortably on his lips, but it came out anyways. He found that he was shifting from one foot to the other, and his hand tucked itself into his pocket, fingers curling around the coins.

"Very nice to meet you Michel, are you looking to lodge here boy?" he tilted his head with the question, his eyes glimmering with what seemed like amusement. No doubt this man had met many young, homeless boys just like him before.

Michel nodded slowly, wide-eyed and unsure of whether he could manage living in such a decent place or not. "It's six cents per night, four if you want breakfast," as the man spoke those words, Michel reached into his pocket, pulling out six pennies, a good portion of his coins, and placed them warily on the counter.

Mr. Henderson smiled, gathering them up and putting them aside. Then, he took a pen in hand and pulled a book towards him. "Last name?" he inquired, looking over his book.

"Don't have none," Michel replied in a small voice. It wasn't far from the truth, his parents no longer a part of his life and no longer a part of this world. There was some bitterness in the young boy's voice and his eyes trailed to the floor and stuck there as he answered some questions from the caretaker.

"Alright, our ladies in charge are out right now. Their names are Aki and Morning Glory..." Mr. Henderson had stood from his chair, his joints creaking as he moved around the desk.

"Buttons!" he hollered up the stairwell, in a voice louder than Michel thought he could produce.

A small boy, a few years younger than Michel, appeared, bounding down the stairs and nearly falling on his face as he jumped over the last few stairs. He caught himself, however, clinging to the pants of Mr. Henderson. The look on the man's face was stern, yet playful.

"Buttons..."

"Sorry," the boy grinned sheepishly and then realized that there was another person in the room. "New lodger?!" It was an excited statement, one that surprised Michel and made him smile a little. The boy had a lot more energy than he was used to, never having any siblings himself.

"The boy's name is Michel... please show him upstairs will you?" Mr. Henderson said, already walking back to his desk on trembling, old limbs.

"Michel, this is Buttons, he'll show you to the bunks, won't you Buttons?"

Buttons grinned widely, his brown eyes sparkling with excitement. "C'mon now, don't dawdle," he chastised, playing the part of a grown up with a wide grin.

Michel followed him up, the boy chattering about the people there, names he couldn't fathom remembering, nonetheless understanding. "So what do you prefer top or bottom bunk? We got many available y'know..."

"Anywhere is paradise; it's up to you," Michel wasn't sure why he quite put it like that, but Buttons caught right on.

"Well I like the top so you get the bottom bunk, we'll be great friends. Are you staying long, like more than a week or so? I know boys like us don't have many pennies for bunks, but it's got comfy enough beds. You'll want to stay whether you got the coins to or not, I bet'cha will Michel..."

Michel let him chatter on, used to being the silent one in a conversation. It was nice to have someone to talk to other than Boots. And Buttons sure was a different type of boy, chatty and enthusiastic about everything. Made him think he might just like to live here, to sleep in a real bed. He'd see how long it'd last though; he knew a good thing never lasted long for him.