Nothing Special (Nothing Special 1)

The room was buzzing and many of the officers had turned their attention on a livid Ronowski, laughing hysterically. Even God had a hard time concealing his smile.

Ronowski looked like he was about to charge back across the floor until God slowly stood.

“All right knock it off out there! Get back to fucking work,” the captain bellowed out into the bullpen from his open door. He turned his sharp eyes on them and shook his head.

God looked at Day. “You just can’t get enough can you?”

“That’s the same thing Ronowski said last night.” Day winked.

“You sonofabitch,” Ronowski growled as he was dragged out of the bullpen by Vikki, while the other officers laughed at Day’s last jibe.

“I said, knock it off!” Their captain looked around, daring anyone else to laugh. “Day, God. In my office, now.”

They got the scolding of their life and a threat of demotion if they ever pulled a stunt like that again. Day gripped his coat in his hand and exited the captain’s office fifteen minutes later.

“Thanks a lot, God, I really enjoyed that.” Day shoved his partner’s arm hard, barely moving him at all. “Just because the captain was best friends with my dad doesn’t mean he’s going to go easy on us.”

“All right, sissy-queen, you don’t have to be so dramatic,” God teased.

Day didn’t care about God calling him names because he knew the big man was crazy about him and would kill anyone who insulted him for real.

“I don’t like getting my ass chewed out, man.” Day plopped back down in his desk chair and let out a long sigh.

God leaned against the desk and stared at him. “I thought you did like getting your ass chewed. Umm, what do y’all call it?” God snapped his fingers. “Oh yeah… tossing salad.”

“Fuck you.” Day laughed.

“Not even on your best day, sweetheart.” God winked, removed his large frame from Day’s desk, and sat back in his own chair facing him.

Day picked up his favorite coffee mug and told God he’d be back.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re a damn addict, dude. What would you do if there was ever a shortage of coffee beans in the United States?” God shook his head at him.

“What do you think I’d do… I’d move to a country that didn’t have a shortage, dumbass. I swear, God, as smart as you are, you sure do ask some stupid shit.” Day dodged the paperclip God threw at him and started toward the station’s kitchen.

Day made quick work of starting his three-hundred-dollar Keurig coffeemaker. It was the best one on the market and he had carousels holding a variety of flavors. The kitchen had other, industrial-size coffeemakers, but Day had to have a freshly brewed cup each time. God was right about Day being addicted to coffee. He drank ten to twelve cups per day. Although he griped about his inability to sleep, he refused to sacrifice his coffee, or switch to godforsaken decaf.

Day hummed while he took inventory of what was left and saw that someone had brought in Vanilla Biscotti flavored cups. Yes, been meaning to get some of those. Everyone knew the elaborate coffee machine was his. Other officers were welcome to use it, as long as they kept it clean and contributed to the stash.

“Well, hello there, handsome.” A rich, deep voiced crawled up Day’s spine. Great… of all the precinct kitchens in the world… he had to walk into mine.

Day turned around slowly, his steaming cup of coffee held right under his nose, letting the bold aroma calm him.

“Detective Johnson, it’s such a pleasu—It’s nice to—” Day stuttered sarcastically. “Well, let me just say hi.”

“Ouch. You hurt my heart when you say things like that.” The tall detective rubbed his hand over his ample chest like he really felt an ache. “You’re way too beautiful to act like that.”

Who said I’m acting?

Day watched Johnson crowd into his space, using his height to try to smother him, but all he was doing was overpowering the smell of coffee with the cologne he wore. Day refused to look up into the detective’s eyes. The man was an arrogant prick and he didn’t deserve Day’s respect.

Just because the detective was out and proud too, he somehow thought that made them a great couple. But Detective Johnson was a spoiled rich kid. His father was the police commissioner and the man wasn’t ashamed to throw big daddy’s weight around, which Day and God hated. There was no way in hell Day would ever consider dating him, no matter how handsome the bastard was.

“Where you been hiding yourself, Day? I called that number you gave me, but it was an adult video shop. I really didn’t like that. It was rude and childish, don’t you think? If you didn’t want me to have your number, all you had to do was say so.”