"The Late Shift" - Part 2
By Ruby
Hood scratched and wind blowing through her hair from non-bullet proof windows Maria finally thumped up to the Crashdown's parking lot in her tired, in great need of gas, but reliable Jetta. For a dumpy old car with a short warranty, it had survived through much more than she would have ever expected. Hijackings, semi-kidnappings, car chases, and being fired on by uber-secret government agents--the works! That car had been through it all and could still run on a nearly empty tank. 'Not bad,' she thought. 'I should be on a commercial.'
It was a fine day. The sun was a few hours away from setting, air crisp and light, and her first real success recovering from her Michael addiction. That evening, Maria was beginning the late shift--the time from dinner to closing and cleaning. They really needed a 12-step program for the broken hearted in Roswell, Alien-addicted Anonymous maybe or a Just-Say-No-to-Lust group. But she felt free and renewed knowing that she wouldn't have to tiptoe around her ex--yes, her ex--boyfriend for the next hours.
So she cheerfully got out of the car proud of the fact she could think of Michael as an "Ex". He loved her and she him, but the past was the past and she was going to move on. If there was a 12-step, Maria felt she would be on the seventh.
Or so she thought.
After changing into her uniform and preparing herself for a day of work, Maria happened to glance over the employee checklist for the night. Her eyes scanned it lazily, not bothering to fully understand it, but when the meaning finally reached her brain she gave a double take. And then another. Taking one more glance at the list she rubbed her eyes to make sure she wasn't going blind.
Yup, plain as bagel, Michael was also working the late shift. Her sunny and light mood changed to shock and denial so quickly it left her speechless. Seventh to the first, just like that.
Footsteps sounded behind her then stopped abruptly. "You!" said a surprised voice.
"You," Maria answered blandly, turning around to face Michael. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest as she looked into his straight gaze, feeling as though she had been deprived of something. Maybe, she thought, I should get a patch for this.
***
"What are you doing here?" Michael asked, searching for words to fill the moments of silence that had dragged between them.
"What does it look like?" she said, tilting her head in that adorable way she could. "I'm working."
More silence.
"So… How are you?"
"Fine. Just peachy. You?"
"I'm good," he nodded, then stared at the floor like a guilty child. In her eyes he had seen embarrassment, anger, and maybe just the tiniest bit of hope.
"Great." Maria did the same, picking at some non-existent piece of lint off her light green uniform.
Michael was more than surprised to see her, wasn't she supposed to work early afternoons? Did she follow him? He didn't know what to think, but sighed and straightened. "Look, Maria--"
"Michael!" came Brian's voice from the kitchen. He was the other employee working that shift along with Liz. "Where are those potatoes? Fries don't cook themselves!"
"Um, uh…" He looked down and spotted the bag he had completely forgotten by his side. "Just wait!"
"Well, time for work," she said lightly. Maria quickly walked towards the front of the Crashdown, trying to avoid touching him even the slightest bit at all cost. As she past Michael he caught the soft scent of herbal shampoo she used. Roses and cinnamon.
"Right." And with those words they went off on their short, but none the less separate, ways.
***
"Liz, how could you?" Maria hissed quietly to her friend at the counter.
"I'm sorry," she answered, punching up money into the cash register. "I didn't know! All my dad said was a friend was working with us." Liz frowned slightly at the total that came up on the small screen. "Hmm, we're off by a few dollars."
Maria gave a long-suffering sigh. "Who cares about money at a time like this! I changed my schedule so I could get away from Michael, not tag along like an obsessive fan." She paused for moment. "Hey, you don't think he's following me around, do you?"
"You're talking about Michael?" Liz looked at her skeptically.
"Well, why not? Maybe he's making sure I won't say anything about Czechoslovakians, or to see if anyone's spying on us, or find out if I'm not dating anyone…
"Maria!"
"…Or I can dream on." She sighed and tucked her short hair behind her ears. "Are you sure I can't change my shift again?"
"After all the times we've already switched around or skipped out because of 'emergencies' that I can't really explain to my parents? No." Her parents were the ones who set the schedule, since they owned the Café. Liz smiled sympathetically. "Sorry, but I'm sure that you can handle it. All you have to do is your job and speak in one word sentences."
"That won't be hard. Between awkward silences and switching from foot to foot all Michael and I have in common is 'hi' and 'bye'."
As if to prove Maria's statement the guy in question slid an order of fries and Vulcan-hot-dogs through the serving window to her. "Hey. Table four." When he returned to flipping burgers Maria made a little frustrated whine in the back of her throat. Grabbing the plate of food she went in search of its owner.
***
Michael reflected in silence as he cooked, aware enough to not scald himself with the hot oil. So many things have changed over the last year from the others finding out that Max, Isabel, and he were not what they were to discovering his destiny. The destiny thing was the biggest change, but Maria came near the top, and killing…
A bubble of heat splashed onto his fingers, making him drop the skillet he was holding. Rushing over to the sink he place the hand under running water to cool it. He kept it there until the sting went away, leaving only a tender spot. He returned to flipping.
He couldn't help it; Michael couldn't stop feeling guilty every time he thought about Agent Pierce. It haunted him, especially at night when there was only darkness to take his mind off the memory--the burst of rage that swept through him, the feel of life fleeing away from a body, how he wanted it to happen, and the knowledge that he could do it again.
When he wanted to.
He just hoped Maria wouldn't be there when he did.
"Something bothering you?" Brian asked as they cooked, eyeing Michael cautiously through ridiculously long, bleached bangs.
"You don't know the half of it," he replied.
"Come on! It's that girl Maria, ain't it?"
He looked up, surprised. "How do you know?"
"Face it. She's young, she's blond, she's hot, but you don't say a thing to her."
"I have nothing to say." Michael frowned in annoyance. He didn't know Brian all too well, but he got the impression the man was trying to goad him.
"What? Are you mute? If she was twenty-four, hell, I'd ask her to come with me when I skip out of town."
"But she's not," he grumbled, temper rising. He looked down at the plate he was holding, trying to remember if it was the whole order. "I'm not interested, quit bothering me."
"Nuh-uh," the man grinned. "I see those looks you give her. Don't you care a bit?"
"Not at all!" Michael heard a small cough and glanced up to see Maria staring straight at him. From the expression on her face he was sure she had heard that last part. "Maria--" he started.
"Hi," she interrupted quickly, taking the fried chicken. "Bye." She stalked off.
He had hurt her. Damn, but it did make his life easier. Maybe now she would try to keep from following him. He sighed, again feeling like a guilty child. When had he ever taken it easy?
To Be Continued
By Ruby
Hood scratched and wind blowing through her hair from non-bullet proof windows Maria finally thumped up to the Crashdown's parking lot in her tired, in great need of gas, but reliable Jetta. For a dumpy old car with a short warranty, it had survived through much more than she would have ever expected. Hijackings, semi-kidnappings, car chases, and being fired on by uber-secret government agents--the works! That car had been through it all and could still run on a nearly empty tank. 'Not bad,' she thought. 'I should be on a commercial.'
It was a fine day. The sun was a few hours away from setting, air crisp and light, and her first real success recovering from her Michael addiction. That evening, Maria was beginning the late shift--the time from dinner to closing and cleaning. They really needed a 12-step program for the broken hearted in Roswell, Alien-addicted Anonymous maybe or a Just-Say-No-to-Lust group. But she felt free and renewed knowing that she wouldn't have to tiptoe around her ex--yes, her ex--boyfriend for the next hours.
So she cheerfully got out of the car proud of the fact she could think of Michael as an "Ex". He loved her and she him, but the past was the past and she was going to move on. If there was a 12-step, Maria felt she would be on the seventh.
Or so she thought.
After changing into her uniform and preparing herself for a day of work, Maria happened to glance over the employee checklist for the night. Her eyes scanned it lazily, not bothering to fully understand it, but when the meaning finally reached her brain she gave a double take. And then another. Taking one more glance at the list she rubbed her eyes to make sure she wasn't going blind.
Yup, plain as bagel, Michael was also working the late shift. Her sunny and light mood changed to shock and denial so quickly it left her speechless. Seventh to the first, just like that.
Footsteps sounded behind her then stopped abruptly. "You!" said a surprised voice.
"You," Maria answered blandly, turning around to face Michael. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest as she looked into his straight gaze, feeling as though she had been deprived of something. Maybe, she thought, I should get a patch for this.
***
"What are you doing here?" Michael asked, searching for words to fill the moments of silence that had dragged between them.
"What does it look like?" she said, tilting her head in that adorable way she could. "I'm working."
More silence.
"So… How are you?"
"Fine. Just peachy. You?"
"I'm good," he nodded, then stared at the floor like a guilty child. In her eyes he had seen embarrassment, anger, and maybe just the tiniest bit of hope.
"Great." Maria did the same, picking at some non-existent piece of lint off her light green uniform.
Michael was more than surprised to see her, wasn't she supposed to work early afternoons? Did she follow him? He didn't know what to think, but sighed and straightened. "Look, Maria--"
"Michael!" came Brian's voice from the kitchen. He was the other employee working that shift along with Liz. "Where are those potatoes? Fries don't cook themselves!"
"Um, uh…" He looked down and spotted the bag he had completely forgotten by his side. "Just wait!"
"Well, time for work," she said lightly. Maria quickly walked towards the front of the Crashdown, trying to avoid touching him even the slightest bit at all cost. As she past Michael he caught the soft scent of herbal shampoo she used. Roses and cinnamon.
"Right." And with those words they went off on their short, but none the less separate, ways.
***
"Liz, how could you?" Maria hissed quietly to her friend at the counter.
"I'm sorry," she answered, punching up money into the cash register. "I didn't know! All my dad said was a friend was working with us." Liz frowned slightly at the total that came up on the small screen. "Hmm, we're off by a few dollars."
Maria gave a long-suffering sigh. "Who cares about money at a time like this! I changed my schedule so I could get away from Michael, not tag along like an obsessive fan." She paused for moment. "Hey, you don't think he's following me around, do you?"
"You're talking about Michael?" Liz looked at her skeptically.
"Well, why not? Maybe he's making sure I won't say anything about Czechoslovakians, or to see if anyone's spying on us, or find out if I'm not dating anyone…
"Maria!"
"…Or I can dream on." She sighed and tucked her short hair behind her ears. "Are you sure I can't change my shift again?"
"After all the times we've already switched around or skipped out because of 'emergencies' that I can't really explain to my parents? No." Her parents were the ones who set the schedule, since they owned the Café. Liz smiled sympathetically. "Sorry, but I'm sure that you can handle it. All you have to do is your job and speak in one word sentences."
"That won't be hard. Between awkward silences and switching from foot to foot all Michael and I have in common is 'hi' and 'bye'."
As if to prove Maria's statement the guy in question slid an order of fries and Vulcan-hot-dogs through the serving window to her. "Hey. Table four." When he returned to flipping burgers Maria made a little frustrated whine in the back of her throat. Grabbing the plate of food she went in search of its owner.
***
Michael reflected in silence as he cooked, aware enough to not scald himself with the hot oil. So many things have changed over the last year from the others finding out that Max, Isabel, and he were not what they were to discovering his destiny. The destiny thing was the biggest change, but Maria came near the top, and killing…
A bubble of heat splashed onto his fingers, making him drop the skillet he was holding. Rushing over to the sink he place the hand under running water to cool it. He kept it there until the sting went away, leaving only a tender spot. He returned to flipping.
He couldn't help it; Michael couldn't stop feeling guilty every time he thought about Agent Pierce. It haunted him, especially at night when there was only darkness to take his mind off the memory--the burst of rage that swept through him, the feel of life fleeing away from a body, how he wanted it to happen, and the knowledge that he could do it again.
When he wanted to.
He just hoped Maria wouldn't be there when he did.
"Something bothering you?" Brian asked as they cooked, eyeing Michael cautiously through ridiculously long, bleached bangs.
"You don't know the half of it," he replied.
"Come on! It's that girl Maria, ain't it?"
He looked up, surprised. "How do you know?"
"Face it. She's young, she's blond, she's hot, but you don't say a thing to her."
"I have nothing to say." Michael frowned in annoyance. He didn't know Brian all too well, but he got the impression the man was trying to goad him.
"What? Are you mute? If she was twenty-four, hell, I'd ask her to come with me when I skip out of town."
"But she's not," he grumbled, temper rising. He looked down at the plate he was holding, trying to remember if it was the whole order. "I'm not interested, quit bothering me."
"Nuh-uh," the man grinned. "I see those looks you give her. Don't you care a bit?"
"Not at all!" Michael heard a small cough and glanced up to see Maria staring straight at him. From the expression on her face he was sure she had heard that last part. "Maria--" he started.
"Hi," she interrupted quickly, taking the fried chicken. "Bye." She stalked off.
He had hurt her. Damn, but it did make his life easier. Maybe now she would try to keep from following him. He sighed, again feeling like a guilty child. When had he ever taken it easy?
To Be Continued
