You, a broken hearted woman, put your hand on the tesla-gun under your rainbow blend council delegate uniform, thinking of what the lawyer had told you. You think for a moment, and make your decision on whether or not to enter.

As the glass melts away, you stumble drunkenly into the front room of the shop with a hiccup.

You fall forward and the gun drops from your hand with a loud thud and skitters across the floor. The trigger snags on a piece of robotic equipment and discharges the tesla gun. With a loud boom and the flash of a laser every light in the establishment is turned on, several glass panels in the office shattered... "Guess I decided to enter," you slur.

Fleetingly you picture the paperwork and the reprimand required due to ANOTHER involuntary misfire. Maybe it's time to ease up on those White Calf shots?..but best not to think about that now.

Realizing there is no way your ex is still asleep NOW sobers you up somewhat. You look around, quickly finding your gun under a desk, and returning it to its holster.

A door slams and you hear someone running into the front office, cursing. Disheveled and still sleepy-looking, his glasses on crooked, Zeke turns the corner to see the ruins of his office, shouting, "What the hell?!" Then turns and sees you. The shade of purple his face turns has you fearing that an aneurysm is imminent. 

"You?" he bellows, "You did this??? Are you freaking insane? Hell Connie, just because we broke up doesn't mean you can come in here and destroy my business! What's wrong with you??"

His tone grates on you and besides, he is really the one to blame. "If you had changed your locks this never would have happened," you mutter. Then your indignance kicks in: "And it's not like the break-up was MY fault. You knew I couldn't stay once you told me everything.."

The lawyer confirmed what you already knew: as a council delegate, it is your duty to turn over the information about his experiments - time manipulation in particular is extremely dangerous, and VERY illegal. Zeke knew that when he told you about them. 

As his best friend, his lover, you BEGGED him to stop, warned him of the repercussions...and yet couldn't bring yourself to turn him in, even after the break-up.

You stand here now, torn between duty and desire. If you take him in, you'll probably receive accolades for the apprehension. If you walk away, you will not only have to hang up your uniform and badge for good, but will be a fugitive yourself.

The End

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