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He'll Always Have Paris

Cedric looked at the sleep ing form and said one last prayer of internal remonstrance. He was still
staring down when Dorian's voice, calmer now, startled him out of his thoughts.
"I removed your keycard's signature from the logbook document." Dorian said. "The cameras are
on power-save mode in all the hallways and will remain that way throughout the night. You
haven't logged into any of the computers. Technically I could have done this all by myself. If
anything goes wrong I want you to leave. It will be like you were never here." He smiled. "I don't
expect you to stick your neck out for me. I accept full responsibility for tonight. I just appreciate
you being here."
Cedric hands didn't stop what they were doing nor did his head lift up to look at Dorian. "If
something goes wrong, Dorian, your wife will wake up in a few hours from what I can only hope
is a nominal dosage of sedative to find herself in a strange room with her husband laying on the
table next to her in a coma."
"And you," Dorian insisted, "will be nowhere to be found. Let's lift her." They transferred
Dorian's wife, Tab itha, onto one of the cold metal tables.
Things had calmed down since Dorian's frantic entrance and Cedric took this opportunity to try
talking to him again. He hadn't attempted this since the phone call from Dorian that had woken
him up in the first place.
Cedric steadied h is hands and began working at a much slower pace. "We're not ready for this,"
he said.
Dorian was back over at the keyboard now and the rattling of his fingers was louder than his
response. "We've had successful runs before," he said.
Cedric was relieved to hear that the edge was gone from Dorian's voice. This was the closest
thing to a rational sentence he had heard from his friend all night. "We've had successful runs in
removing small amounts of emotional trauma from young adults," Cedric said.
"See? Successful runs," Dorian said, index finger repeatedly tapping at the enter key.
"But the process we've developed," Cedric tried again, "allows an audio-visual exploration of the
frontal lobe by another person. You're talking about hooking up and exploring the temporal lobe
which..." Dorian swiveled on his chair and stared at Cedric. Cedric stopped talking under his
eyes. But once Dorian had turned back to the keyboard Cedric felt himself needing to speak
again. "There just has to be an easier way."
"Nope," Dorian said, his belief that this was his only recourse caused the word to become clipped
and harsh in his mouth.
"You two are having problems but that doesn't mean-"
"I'm losing her," Dorian said. As soon as Cedric lifted his head he was sorry he had done so. The
blinking screens, Dorian's waxy eyes, even the coffee stain down his front all revealed an inner
weakness in Dorian that Cedric d idn't want entering into their work environment. Dorian was
hurting right out in the open. "I love her and I'm losing her. She won't talk to me. She's
withdrawing. And if there's a reason or if there's...if there's...this guy she works with. His name is
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