There were a dozen things he still needed to do before he could safely leave the experiment overnight. Egon pushed his glasses up his nose, focusing on the beaker in front of him. If he left it now, he would
likely have to redo the entire thing in the morning. He'd been working on it all afternoon and into the evening, forsaking some invitation of Ray's he hadn't quite caught the particulars of. Possibly dinner, if the state of his stomach was anything to go by.

He glanced towards the door; he'd heard Peter in the hallway. Finally home from his date. Marion, dinner at Joe's Pizza and a movie which involved more explosions than Egon would have thought even Peter would be comfortable with, given his day job.

Peter was home at an hour that said the date had gone well, but that ultimately Marion had left Peter standing at her front door with only a kiss. She seemed like a nice enough girl, but Egon didn't expect it
to last very long. Peter always seemed to go for the difficult matches -- women who wanted to drag him to art museums and fine Italian restaurants. Women who wrinkled their noses when Peter showed up wearing jeans or, heaven forbid, a t-shirt.

The beaker bubbled and Egon hastened to add the contents of the test tube in his hand. The bubbles rose, threatened to overflow the beaker. But it began to subside just in time and started turning a satisfyingly dark shade of pink.

Egon set the test tube down and picked up the beaker. If left alone, without any additional catalyst or attention to temperature, the entire thing would be ruined.

He dumped the solution down the lab sink's drain and set the empty beaker aside. Turning off the light, he headed upstairs to the bunkroom. He walked in just as Peter was climbing into bed.

Egon went to get his pajamas, and headed into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

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