One thing had to be said for MARZ... their issues with communication had nothing to do with a lack of it.
Zephyr went upstairs - again - to get Reg some apple juice. He set the empty mug on the counter, carefully balanced the jug on one forearm, and poured using his opposite hand to keep it steady. It was one of those precarious tasks that could end in disaster if, say, Oscar burst into the breakroom suddenly.
This time, however, he caught the jug with only a small splash escaping onto the counter.
"Sorry, Zeph," Oscar said. "Can I help you with that?"
"No, I got it," Zephyr grumbled, but he didn't offer any resistance as Oscar took the apple juice from him, replaced the cover and returned it to the fridge, and pulled a napkin out of the napkin bin to wipe the counter. For a squat little gnomish guy, Zephyr mused, Oscar sure was quick. Or maybe Zephyr was slow.
As he turned to drop the soggy napkin into the trash can, Oscar asked him, "So what should I do for the party? What day is it? Are you being in charge, or is Shauna? I am a little confused about that, but you know how Shauna is. She wants to be in charge of everything, sometimes it seems, aye?"
Zephyr blinked at Oscar, still processing the first part. "Party?"
"Si, isn't there a party for Marsh? Is it a surprise party? Should I be keeping my mouth zipped up?"
"Uh..." Goddamn, Zephyr thought. He'd only conceived of the party this morning, and hadn't the idea fizzled as soon as he opened his mouth about it? Hadn't Marsh himself hated the idea? How did everyone else find out?
"Friday," Zephyr finally said, wanting to kick himself as he did so. "Friday afternoons are good for parties."
"I agree. Should we order pizza, or... no, even better, I'll get my wife to make her famous chili con queso, and other people can bring in other things to eat. That is a good idea, no? What do you call that..."
"Pot luck?" Zephyr guessed.
Oscar nodded vigorously. "Exactly! And a cake. We should assign someone to bring the cake."
"I'll take care of the cake," Shauna offered as she joined them. "Are we having a planning session? Wait just a minute and I'll get Mariluz and Connor in here." She left again. Oscar busied himself making fresh coffee and Zephyr vacillated between sticking around and leaving, and soon Shauna returned with the receptionist close behind her.
"Marsh is working downstairs," Mariluz informed them. "Connor is coming."
"Good," Shauna replied. "Okay, is it all right if I handle the cake? Should we have food, too?"
"Zephyr and I already decided on a pot luck," Oscar told the ladies. "I offered to bring chili."
"I will make las calabacitas!" Mariluz suggested.
Oscar smiled widely at the stout little receptionist. "Hermana, yo podría morir para su calabacitas. "
She giggled back at him. Zephyr considered sitting down; this was obviously going to take a long time. Or maybe he could discreetly escape with Reg's mug of apple juice. But he did neither.
Connor joined them. "I'm here," he announced, eyeing the crowd. "Whoa, what's going on?"
"Party planning," Mariluz told him in a hushed voice and a conspiratorial nod.
"You need to think of something to bring," Shauna added. "Hey, Zeph, what are you bringing? Oh, and we need someone to get paper plates, et cetera. And a banner! We need a banner."
Mariluz pushed past Connor toward the door. "We 'ave all of the paper tings," she said over her shoulder, "and I can make a banner." Then she hurried out of the breakroom, and as she opened the door Zephyr heard the reception desk phone ring.
The three remaining MARZ folks all turned and looked at Zephyr, and he realized he hadn't answered Shauna's question. "Uh..." He tried to think quickly. His favorite concoction, Spanish rice, came to mind, but he was sure Reg would appreciate something that wasn't spicy in addition to the chili and the calabacitas. But he didn't want to have to shop for ingredients, either. "Um, I could make tuna salad and chicken salad, if somebody else will pick up some of those little rolls..."
Shauna nodded approvingly. "Finger rolls. Right. I'll get those. Connor, what'll you bring?"
Connor looked from Oscar to Zephyr to Shauna uncomfortably. "I dunno... beer?"
"I don't think we need beer," Shauna told him. "Zephyr's bringing champagne."
"I am?" Zephyr was pretty sure he hadn't volunteered to bring champagne.
"Aren't you?" Shauna asked him.
"Noooo... who told you that?"
"Let the kid bring beer," Oscar interjected. "What is a party without beer? It's just cake."
"And music," Connor added. "Hey, do you have anyone to provide music yet? I'll do that."
Shauna shook her head at him. "No, none of that Zombie Rats From Hell crap, or whatever you listen to."
"Other people can bring their own CD's! I'll play whatever people want! What does Marsh like, I'll play that!" Connor countered indignantly. "Zombie Rats From Hell... there's not even such a thing."
Zephyr decided that now was a good time to bring the juice down to Reg. He took the mug in both hands and sidled past Connor. Mariluz opened the door just before he reached it, and he nodded politely to her as they squeezed past each other. As the door shut behind him, bits of conversation continued:
"So did we decide if it's a surprise party or no?"
"You don't even know what kind of music Marsh likes! Hey, does anybody here know what--"
"Friday afternoon?! That's a problem."
"Where'd Zephyr go?"
By the time he reached the lobby, he'd put enough distance between himself and the breakroom to be out of earshot. He pushed the elevator's down button with one elbow. The door opened and he took it downstairs.
The workroom was silent except for sounds that drifted down from the group in the breakroom above. Zephyr spotted Reg at one of the benches to the left of the elevator door, peering intently at some component he was assembling under a raised magnifying glass. Zephyr approached him unhurriedly. "Hey, man. I brought you some kilocalories and hydration. Juice."
Without looking up from his work, Reg reached a hand out behind him and said, "Zephyr."
Zephyr balanced the mug in his left hand and took Reg's hand in his right. Reg drew him up to the workbench, onto which Zephyr placed the juice. Then he leaned forward to examine Reg's work through the magnifying glass, slipping his arm around Reg's waist as he did so.
"Very nice. Morey account?"
"Morey," Reg confirmed.
"Cool." He stood there with Reg a while longer, just looking together at the inner workings of a piece of equipment that was likely to be able to perform twice as many tasks as Diane had requested. That was Reg, Zephyr thought; the idea man. A bottomless well of bigger, better, faster, more ways to do things. Reg's hand crept up his back in slow, gentle scritches and he gradually relaxed - a reflex that he knew would only encourage Reg to keep scritching.
Above their heads Zephyr noted the muffled footsteps and occasional raised voices of the party planners. He wondered how long the discussion would continue to last. To be honest, he wasn't interested in a party anymore. Marsh obviously wasn't keen on the idea, and Reg was never a party person under even the best of circumstances, and Zephyr could care less about how anyone else felt. If work was going to cut out early on a Friday, he'd prefer to just go home and spend the afternoon with his mate and his cat and maybe the Angels game on the radio.
He heard more footsteps, but from behind him rather than from above him. Oops, he'd forgotten to check to see if Marsh were down here. By the time Zephyr remembered to pull away from Reg, it was too late; Marsh was already directly behind them. So he didn't. He was too comfortable, and startling Reg wouldn't have been worth it. Besides, everyone knew Reg communicated better when he could touch the other person; he and Reg were simply discussing the project. Without words. Yeah.
"What are they doing up there?" Marsh asked.
Zephyr turned his head without removing his arm from around Reg's waist and ended up with his chin on Reg's shoulder. Marsh wasn't even looking at them, he noticed with relief. He stood with his side to them, wiping grease off his hands with a cloth and gazing at the ceiling curiously.
"Damned if I know," Zephyr replied.