You get home late at night as usual, returning to your empty darkened apartment. As you turn on the light you put your keys and badge in the bowl by the door, kicking off your shoes and placing your firearm on the table before moving to the kitchen. Immediately you regret disarming as you see him standing in the kitchen with a gun on the table in front of him. “It’s really you. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this moment.”
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