Summary: Marsha Cates is only crunchy on the outside--inside, she's full of creamy nougat. Well, not really. It's kind of like slightly-less crunchy stuff. Alice breaks up with a beau who's not Billy. Le gasp! Alice/Jervis
Marsha Cates had grown up in a house full of sisters and had had her fair share of unhappy relationships, and as such, she could spot the effects of a nasty break-up at forty paces. And, whatever else she may be, she was observant. So, when she came blazing down the hall to check in on Jervis Tetch, she knew something was wrong with his secretary's love life before she even saw the girl.
For one thing, the girl's sobs and the distinct sound of tissues being pulled out of a box bled down from her station. Theoretically, this could've meant that anything was wrong—but from her tone of the girl's voice, Marsha was hazarding that this was about an affair d'amour gone wrong.
She rounded the corner to see that Alice had buried her head in her arms, her body shaking with sobs. Crumpled Kleenex wads were scattered all over the top of her desk, and a large cup of tea stood beside her. She had almost curled herself into a ball in her chair, and was clearly trying to make her sorrow as noiseless as possible—unfortunately, it was not quite effective. Marsha wondered for a moment why the girl had chosen to remain at her desk and cry, until she remembered exactly where she was; Alice probably worked for days back here without seeing another living soul…god knew Jervis Tetch probably hadn't spoken two words to her since she started. Alice's desk was probably the most private place in the entire building.
Marsha paused for a moment, considering what to do. The girl had only been there for a few months, but she'd already seemed to have gotten her situation under control. She'd liked Alice since she started—sometimes there were a few problems, lateness and such, but she was a hard worker and a sweet girl, and she was in a somewhat rough position. It wouldn't be right to let her drown in her own tears…besides, it was horribly unproductive.
The director stepped closer to the sobbing woman and tried to soften her voice.
"Alice?" The blonde's body jerked at her voice, startled blue eyes coming up to recognize her superior with no little amount of fear. She rubbed a tissue across her eyes and rapidly began explaining.
"I'm sorry, Dr. Cates, I really am, I didn't mean to be slacking off but I'm really not at my best today and I'll make it up later if you want but I didn't intend to do anything wrong, I promise!"
Marsha held up her hands. "Slow down, slow down. I'm not mad at you…you haven't done anything really wrong, yet. Would you tell me what's wrong?"
"It's…personal."
"Bad break-up?" the director sighed. As pretty and sweet as the blonde was, it seemed that she lacked considerably in the brains department, at least where subterfuge was concerned. It was fairly obvious that something romantic was afoot.
"Yes," sniffled the secretary. "B-Bruno, my boyfriend, just…" She exploded into sobs, a handkerchief pressed to her face. "…some girl, Sylvie, I think…"
Marsha awkwardly patting her back. "That's how men are, Alice…scum, all of them."
"I know, b-but we'd had four good months, and…" Alice dissolved into sobs, and the next thing to happen nearly put Marsha in catatonic shock.
"Oh, there there, my dear…" Jervis Tetch came around the corner with a steaming cup in one hand, his face set in a sad smile. He'd not noticed Marsha yet—his eyes were only for Alice. Marsha was astonished; she'd never seen him look so relaxed, so calm and yes, so efficient. He didn't stutter or tremble or make stupid mistakes…but that strange light in his eyes when he looked at the girl aroused Marsha's ire and protective instincts, and she was reminded that, taking care of a distraught woman or not, he was supposed to be working on a new proposal.
The blond man spoke gently to the teary woman, soothing her like one would a nightmare-plagued child. "This too shall pass, dear Alice—don't waste your tears so, not on such a Jabberwock." Setting down the cup, Jervis glanced up at Dr. Cates, smiled ruefully, did a double-take, and nearly leapt into the air. "D-Doctor!"
"Shouldn't you be working, Tetch?" Marsha replied icily.
"I-I-I…"
"Jervis came out to check on me," Alice spoke up in a watery voice. "I'd just gotten off the phone and I was crying…he heard me and wanted to make sure I was all right."
"The situation is well in hand now," Marsha said crisply, rubbing Alice's back. "You may go back to your office, Tetch."
Alice seemed to recognize that there was no talking the director out of it. "Thank you so much, Jervis…you always know how to make me feel better."
Resentment was coming off of Tetch in waves, but he softened at Alice's words. "If you need something, please just knock." The blonde smiled slightly and nodded, watching as he slowly left to his office.
Marsha pulled up a chair and dragged the whole miserable story out of Alice, listening pseudo-patiently through all the stuttering and weeping, reassuring the girl that all men had commitment issues and were intimidated by powerful women…and that no man would ever settle down decently, that it wasn't her fault.
When she left a half an hour later, she failed to notice that Alice trotted right back over to her employer's office door and knocked—after all, it was preposterous that Jervis Tetch could comfort the girl better than a simple common sense explanation of the situation.
The idea was enough to make you laugh your head off.
A/N: Short as heck. And I'm not sorry a wet slap. Enjoy! Or don't. Either works, I suppose.