Nothing Special V (Nothing Special 5)

God watched him curiously while he poured himself a cup of coffee and took the sections of the morning paper Day always set aside for him. “You good?” he asked. But Day didn’t bother to answer. “Did you eat already?”

Day usually fixed them something quick before they had to go in, but his kitchen was as spotlessly clean as he’d left it last night. He wasn’t in the mood to eat and could care less if God was hungry or not.

“I’ll pick up something on the way,” Day mumbled, tossing the Life section of the paper to the side and yanking his heavy jacket off the back of his chair.

“Sounds good, let’s go.”

“I’m gonna take my car. You can go ahead and go. I got some stuff to handle after work.”

“What stuff? Are you taking it by Furious’ shop?”

Day didn’t answer

“Leo.” God frowned, looking like he had no clue what the hell was going on.

Day grabbed his duffle bag and walked out the side door that led to the garage. It’d been a few weeks since he’d even cranked up his classic Mustang – he and God always choosing to ride together – he’d feel like an ass if it didn’t turn over. He climbed in and his beauty purred to life at the first turn. Of course, you won’t let me down. Day used the remote to open the garage and made quick work of backing out the driveway and coasting through the neighborhood. He had so much to think about, but the knots in his stomach and throbbing in his head wouldn’t let him.

God

God remained at the breakfast bar for another hour, trying to come up with a way to say what was way overdue. Maybe Day wouldn’t care about not walking down an aisle. Even though he was far more sentimental than him, he still might be okay with using a justice of the peace like God wanted. God had never even worn a tux and had absolutely no aspiration to. They’d go down to city hall and do it one morning and spend the entire day in bed, or even have an exchange of vows right here at the house. Then a couple weeks later, he and Day could go somewhere and be alone. He’d make it up to him for not being honest from the beginning. He’d tried to work it out in his head, figure out how to just do whatever Day wanted. Until he saw the pricing. He had no desire to empty his meager savings for a wedding that’d last for a few hours. He’d looked at some prices for venues, caterers, open bar, DJs, and all that shit. The least he could see it coming to was about ten grand, and that was on the cheaper side. That figure alone scared the shit out of him. They were detectives, not surgeons. With the economy how it was, he was always leery of his department having to do mandatory cutbacks like so many others had already done. What if he took a huge loan for a wedding, which he couldn’t repay?

He’d sit Day down and tell him his concerns real soon. If Day loved him half as much as he loved Day, then his partner would marry him in the middle of the Chattahoochee River on a pontoon boat. God grabbed his keys, locked up and headed to work.

Tech

Tech rolled on his back and fired two shots, hitting the hologram image of a bank robber in the center of the chest. He jumped to his feet and leaped over the concrete barrier set in the middle of the obstacle course and fired three times at the target moving on rails, hitting the image once in the thigh and twice in the stomach.

“Dive! Dive!” his instructor shouted at him from behind the bulletproof viewing window.

Tech dove behind a concrete pillar when the sound of shots being fired at him registered. When they ceased, he sprang up and fired, hitting the last image in the center of the forehead before ducking back down. He breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth while he loaded another clip into the 9mm handgun. The sound of the buzzer alerted him that his ten-minute simulation was over. Tech gasped and shook out his arms, shaking off the nerves. He loved this part of his training, mainly because it looked so realistic and the state of the art program – that he’d help design – was unlike any he’d ever seen. Although he fired real bullets that went through the holograms and hit beanbags surrounding the room, there were never real bullets fired at him. But the sounds were loud enough to portray a real gunfight and if he was hit… he’d definitely know it, and so would the computer.