Marissa slammed in her door and threw off her coat, growling in frustration. She wanted to scream, but figured that wouldn't be a good thing, considering that most of her neighbors would likely call the police if she did. She paced the apartment, remembering the day, unable to get it out of her head. Her supervisor had crawled all over her nerves today, from telling her what her job was, to getting after Teresa for every little thing. She'd nearly quit once, and had almost gone home early a couple of times. Lunch had helped a little, but only for a while, then he was back at them.
Finally, she sat down at her computer and began to type out how she felt. She knew it didn't make much sense on it's own, but she was certain her family would understand; she'd complained enough to them, both on the phone and over email. Her fingers flew as she typed, possibly the fastest she'd ever gone. She pulled up the address book and clicked on her family list to send it. Once that was gone, she turned her attention to the email she'd received, not as calm as she would have liked.
Lance opened his email, rubbing at his eyes. It had been a long day, but he was still too wound up to even think about sleep. He flipped casually through the new messages, perking up as he saw one from Marissa. She'd answered a message he'd sent her a while ago. Then he found another one from her, and his eyes widened as he read it.
I have just about had it! This guy is going to end up dead really soon - I've been gathering accomplices! Today was just the end of it. I've been working here for two and a half years longer than he, and he's trying to tell me how to do my job!!! Having someone stand over my shoulders is so frustrating!
He's so ready to believe the worst of Teresa - he assumes she's not doing her best. At least he doesn't stand over me as much as he does her. I feel like screaming at him to back off and let her alone! It's like she can't do anything right! She's really good about it; he lets me do thing he won't let her do - like talk on the phone. He really comes down hard on her.
He decides how things are going to be, never mind that it worked fine the way it was! And without asking me! All of a sudden he says - ‘This is how you'll do it from now on.' I protest, he tells me they decided I was too resistant to change.
Resistant to change? Oh, hello! This is the fourth way of tracking jobs since I've been working here! I can't be too resistant to change if I'm still here after that many changes! That is absolutely laughable! I can't believe it! As if he had any clue what my life was like! Or what I was like!
It ended there. Lance blinked at the emotion evident in the email, not really understanding more than that, then started searching through his saved messages, trying to find Justin's forward that had her phone number on it. He finally gave up and ran into Chris' room through the connecting door. "Hey, do you have Marissa's number?"
Chris didn't look up from the screen. "Yeah...." he said slowly. "I guess you got this email from her, too?"
"Yeah. Can I have her number?"
"It's in my address book." He pointed negligently to the phone, and Lance snatched up the black leather-bound book lying next to it.
"What's her last name?"
"She's under Marissa... Wow, is she mad!"
Fumbling with the phone, Lance dialed the number, only to hang up in frustration. "She's on the phone or something," he reported.
"I thought so." Chris clicked once on his computer, then folded his arms. "Give her five minutes, then try again." He stood and started to pace.
"Five minutes?" Lance plopped onto his back on the bed. "Why?"
"To let the message process and for her to get offline."
"Do you think she's okay?"
Chris shrugged. "Dunno. We'll find out." His pacing belied his casual words.
"Chris," Lance said after a while.
"What?"
"Stop pacing. You're making me tired."
Chris chuckled and resumed his seat. "Okay, try her now."
Lance sat up, grabbed the phone, and dialed. He hung up in frustration. "She's still on."
Chris nodded, fidgeting a little. Lance lay back on the bed, and somewhat to Chris' surprise and his definite relief, fell asleep. He got up and paced again. When he tried her number, it picked up after the second ring.
"What," she said flatly.
"Sit down."
"What?!?" Oh, she was mad.
"Sit down, somewhere comfortable."
"Chris?"
"That's me. Sit down."
She sighed. "I'm sitting. You're not going to psychoanalyze me, are you?"
He rolled his eyes and gave a short laugh. "Not unless you ask me to. You have a bad day?"
"Oh...." She nearly growled it. "You don't want to hear...."
He did, actually, but not right now. He nudged Lance, who woke groggily. "Huh? What, Chris," he moaned, nearly whining in his exhaustion.
"No, not right now. Lean back against something," he said, ignoring Lance for the moment.
"Ugh, Chris, what are you doing? I'm not really in the mood for this!"
Chris winced. Lance sat up, eyes wide, awake finally. "You got through?"
Chris handed him the phone. "See if you can get her to calm down. She's pretty riled up."
Lance took the phone. "Marissa?" he asked.
"All right, I'm leaning against something."
"This is Lance. Are you okay?"
She took a deep breath. "Hi, Lance." It was as if the anger was gone, suddenly. He didn't know if that was good or not. "I'll be fine soon enough."
Chris shoved a piece of paper in front of Lance's eyes. ‘Is she leaning back?' Lance nodded. "Rough day?" he asked, watching in complete confusion as Chris began writing something down.
"And how." She sighed.
"I'm sorry." Another paper was shoved in front of his eyes. "Wanna try something?" he asked, deciding that ordering her around wasn't going to help her mood much.
"If you think it will help."
He read the paper over again, then nodded at Chris, who waited for him to talk. "Okay. Lean back, close your eyes, and take a deep breath. Then let it out, very slowly." He listened to her do that. "Keep doing that, and let the tension out."
Chris stared at him, fidgeting with the pencil; Lance figured he was trying not to pace. He opened his mouth once or twice, but didn't say anything. Lance lay back, wondering if it were possible for her to relax him like that, then a thought crossed his mind and he nearly laughed. He did smile, and sat up. "Marissa?" he asked. Chris glared at him.
"Hmm." She sounded sleepy and a little relaxed.
"It's too bad you didn't call me."
"Why?"
"So I could tell the guys I got an obscene phone call. Justin would be jealous."
"James Lanceten Bass!!!"
Chris stared at him, eyes wide, then he nearly choked on a laugh and turned away.
"What?" Lance asked innocently.
Marissa sighed. "You can almost get away with that, you know. I'd never believe Justin."
"He tends to over do it a little with the innocent act," Lance agreed, and cast an amused glance at Chris. He stood with his back to Lance, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. "Breathe, Chris," he advised, and Chris laughed out loud, turning to sink into the chair nearest him.
"What, did he forget to breathe?" Marissa asked, and Lance chuckled.
"Pretty much. His face about matches Joey's hair."
Marissa burst into laughter. "Can I get a picture of that?"
Lance paused. "By the time I got my camera, he'd be normal."
Marissa giggled. "Never."
"Well, normal colored, then," he laughed.
She sighed, sounding much happier. "Not that I'm complaining, Lance, but what was the ‘get off the line' from Chris and the phone call for?"
"We got this email about some really irritating guy," he started, and she gasped.
"I sent that to you guys? I thought I sent it home!" She sighed. "Sorry. I bet you guys are exhausted."
"I don't know about the three J's, but Chris and I were awake. We both got a copy."
"Yeah, I know. I clicked on the wrong ‘list' mailer. I only have two."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. Family, and you guys."
"I feel privileged," he chuckled. "You feeling any better?"
"A little. I'll go eat something, and feel much better."
"Good." He paused. "You sound like Joey when you say that."
"Oh, heaven forbid," she said sarcastically. "Thanks for calling, and tell Chris.... No, let me talk to him."
He thought he detected a little regret in her voice. "Sure. Talk to you later." He held the phone out to Chris. "She wants to talk to you."
Chris took the phone, his face blank, and Lance left to find out if anyone else had read the email. "Hello?"
"Hi, Chris. Sorry for snapping at you like that."
"You feeling better?" he asked, leaning back in the chair.
"A little, yes. Thanks."
He smiled. "Good. And you're welcome. A little stressed out, are you?"
She chuckled. "Just a touch. I'll be okay. I'll be much better after I eat something."
"That was the Joey comment from Lance," he said.
"Yes. Thanks again, Chris. Get some sleep. You sound exhausted."
"Thanks, I will. And you're welcome again. Good night."
"Night." He hung up slowly and rubbed his face. He was tired. He turned away from the phone to start getting ready for bed.