A/N: I'm going to say this at the beginning too, PLEASE ,PLEASE REVIEW!

Chapter Five

Michael stared down at the note in his hand, then at the building in front of him. The lights were out, but there was a "Yes, we're open" sign in the window." Michael wandered into the building, looking around as he entered. "Hello?" He called, not seeing anyone. "Anyone here?" There was rustling from behind the bar someone where.

"Who's there?" Called a voice that sounded ancient. Or the person was a smoker. Michael looked below the bar, but didn't see anyone.

"It's Michael Guerin. I thought that Langley called in earlier." He said, uncomfortable with talking to an unseen person. There was a thud, and a groan. In a few moments, a small, elderly man stood behind the bar. He wiped his hands on the apron that hung around his neck. Then he stuck his hand out to Michael. Michael took it, warily.

"Oh. Nice to meet you." The man glanced around the room. "Sorry it's so messy. I forgot that you were getting sent here. Got a resume?"

"Uh yeah." Michael said. He pulled out a crumpled resume from his pocket. The man took it, turning away from Michael. Michael scratched his eyebrow, examining random things on the wall. "I want to let you know, that despite the lack of work on that thing, I can do work. I can tend a bar. My foster father taught me how to make drinks before I could ride a bike." The man didn't respond. Awkward silence encompassed them. Michael wished that he knew what was going on inside the man's head.

"No, no, Mr. Guerin, this is enough."

"That's Ok. Thanks for taking a look. I understand." Michael said, turning towards the door. He wasn't disappointed. When you don't look forward to anything, they, or it, can't let you down. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Son, where do you think you're going? I expect my employees to show respect."

"Employees? I'm hired?" The old man smiled. Well, his boss now, smiled.

"That's right son. I admit your job history isn't that impressive. But when you said that you were taught how to tend a bar at a young age... that convinced me. And I knew it must be the truth. Because no one would even think to make up a lie like that."

"Thank you sir. I won't let you down, Mr. Uh- Mr..." Michael said, realizing he hadn't caught his name.

"Call me John. I don't give a damn about that formality crap. I was just jerking your chain." He looked at Michael. "I'll tell you what. Business is kinda slow, but I pay well. You'll always have pay at the end of the week. It's just you and another boy, working here. Come by at eight, and I'll get you working right away.

"Yes sir." Michael said.

"Cut out the sir crap." John barked. Michael smirked. He had a feeling that he was gonna like it here.

He was not liking it here. The music was from like the fifties, and so far, they hadn't had many customers. The place was as dead as a doornail. Seriously, he and the other guy who worked there started playing poker, just to pass the time. "Hey, dude, not to be gushy or anything, but how why did you come here? All the way from wherever it is you come from." They guy said, folding the deck.

"Well -"

"Rick."

"-Rick, first off I'm from Roswell."

"New Mexico?"

"Is there any other one? And second of all, I don't want to talk about it." Michael said. The guy shrugged, and then just started talking.

"Well I don't think I'd want to leave that place. I mean, all the alien insights, and the total cover up. Everybody knows that it was one."

"Yeah, well when you grow up about it, you never want to hear of a UFO ever again." Michael said, shoving a small pile of peanuts into the already small hill of them.

"Well I think that's bull crap. But have been like a girl or something." Michael threw a glance at him, his cards still held in front of his face. "Ok, so yeah. A girl. That's it! You got screwed over by some girl, and rather than face her, you got out of there."

"No, but good try." Michael snapped.

"Just keep telling yourself that buddy." Rick said. The bell on the door clanged, and Michael and Rick jumped off the bar counter, attempting to make it look like they were working. Rick had a cloth, and was making it look like he was trying to clean the counter top. Michael had a glass in his hands, with a cloth. When he saw who it was, he stopped his pretense. Rick nudged him the ribs. "Dude, what are you doing? We've got some real customers, look alive!" Michael rolled his eyes, and Rick nudged him even harder in the ribs. "Dude, dude, look. I told you this wasn't that bad of a job. There's a hot girl, over there. Blonde hair, all wavy and stuff." He turned to Michael, a grin on his face. "You don't have to mope around about the girl back home. You can get girls like that to forget about that one at home." Michael's jaw tightened, and his fists clenched.

"No. I told you I don't have a girl back in Roswell."

"And I told you that was bull crap." Rick said, out of the side of his mouth.

"Hey dick wad- that's my girl!" Michael said, pointing at Maria. Rick's jaw dropped.

"Dude, she's hot."

"Yeah, heard you the first time." Michael muttered. "Just don't say it again." Rick put his hands up defensively.

"Sorry, sorry. Won't do it again." He said. Maria walked over to the bar, a smile on her lips.

"Hi." She said. Rick didn't respond, but turned to face the bottles of alcohol.

"Hi." Michael said, leaning over the bar, to peck her on the cheek. "Listen, I'm sorry, but I can't serve you an alcoholic drink, but I can give you like ginger ale or something." Maria pouted.

"But you're underage." She whined. Michael put a hand over her mouth, and make a shushing motion. But it was too late, Rick had heard her.

"What? Not cool."

"Shhhh. Sh." Michael said, grabbing for him.

"I need this job dude. I really need it. I do anything for you keep your mouth shut."

"Anything?" Rick said, looking at Maria.

"Not in a million years." She spat.

"Yeah, well I'm just gonna have to get the boss."

"NO!" Michael yelled, and a glass exploded next to him. Rick turned around, a look of astonishment of his face.

"What the hell was that?" He asked. Maria and Michael exchanged looks of worry.

A/N: I was thinking about bringing this character Rick into their circle of friends. What do you think? I need reviews to know if this is written well. PLEASE REVIEW!