Zenith: The Grand Return

Chapter One: Living Post-Mortem (Pt. I)

{Soundtrack:
Run Like Hell - Pink Floyd
Style - Taylor Swift
Hungry Like the Wolf - Duran Duran
Dream Weaver - Gary Wright
Always Something There to Remind Me - Midnite String Quartet
It's All Coming Back to Me Now - Céline Dion
Womanizer - Midnite String Quartet
Hello Hello - Elton John
Beat It - Michael Jackson
Just Between You And Me - April Wine
ocean eyes - Billie Eilish}

~

Marsha Holloway had nearly thrown Larraby and Grant's plans for a complete loop and left them behind the eight ball, but they'd managed to coerce her. She'd always been a naturally naive person, but that part of her had died when she left the Zenith Program after Jack abandoned them and the kids were left scattered across the country. That being said, tonight, she'd had the wool pulled right over her eyes.

"Marsha, are you and James intending on getting your own car for the evening or shall we-" Dr. Grant's questioning was cut short after coming around the corner to see Marsha sitting in one of the staff rooms, her hair pinned up and her work clothes on. When Denise Miller had mentioned that Marsha was in the southern staff room, Grant figured she was just grabbing a tea for the road, he had no idea he would find her there completely unprepared for a ball. Make no mistake, Marsha Holloway was not a woman who showed up to anything underdressed, so there was certainly no miscommunication there. "What are you doing?" He asked urgently, they were supposed to make their grand arrival in three hours and with the drive itself being two and a half hours, factoring in the downtown traffic that would have to be accounted for, they should be out the door in no time.

Marsha sighed from where she was indeed nursing what looked like a cup of tea, but her face remained unchanged. "I'm having a cup of tea," she said blandly, staring down at some paperwork that she was leisurely working on.

Grant scoffed, unable to remember when exactly she'd become so dryly sarcastic. "We have a ball to attend, or have you forgotten?"

With yet another heavy sigh, Marsha stood from her seat and walked towards the kitchenette, where she rinsed out her cup. "James picked up some extra hours at Fort Hunter this weekend," she placed the cup in the drying rack. "They're short with everyone off in L.A."

Grant's eyes widened. Their plan to have Jack dragged back to Area 52 tonight as unprepared as possible relied on the fact that she would be there dressed to the nines ready to lure him in. Should she not be in attendance, Grant and Larraby might have to hunt Jack down themselves, and such a scene would not be welcomed by the president, that was for sure. Besides, Larraby was already down there, likely on his second drink already and certainly uninterested in a precarious change of plans at the very last minute.

"What, so you're not going to go?" Marsha could not sense the panic in Grant's tone, and for that he was thankful. It would make manipulating his old friend all the easier. "You don't need to have him with you in order to get in, you know."

Marsha nodded, shuffling her papers around. "I know," she shrugged, "why would I go all by myself?" It was simple, really, she might have friends going and would certainly be able to navigate the evening without James on her arm, but she'd had a long day and what she really longed for right now was a good night's sleep.

"Marsha," Grant attempted to level with her, "when is the last time you went out to something like this?" She paused in quiet reflection, had it really been that long. "Sheridan certainly never takes you out anymore, we only get one of these balls per season, and you're lucky if you take a weekend off work to go out and do anything. I really think coming out with us will do you some good."

Something shifted inside of her, and she wasn't quite sure why. Something told her she was supposed to be in attendance that evening, like she certainly would not want to miss it. A disappointment began to grow inside of her once she realized that she'd likely missed her window. "I'm..." she began, casting her arms out at her sides, "I'm not even remotely ready."