With rainbows bending through the thick glass of the field office on an otherwise gorgeous day, Junior Special Agent Martin was stuck inside, filling out search warrant request forms for cases that she wasn’t active on. Every time she ran through an ill-advised search for vaguely-defined tools, it seemed another pound of pressure formed on the inside of her skull. This was what true temptation must have looked like. Forget forty days in the desert, she’d be lucky to make it to the end of the week without buckling. With the forms finally completed and ready to fax to the appropriate judges, she rose from her desk and immediately collided with some jackass with a cup of coffee — and just like that, three hours’ worth of search warrant requests were soaked through.
“Damn it, seriously?”
