Four Years Later  Yes. We are The Baddest

Four years later

“Atlanta PD! I said freeze! Don’t you fucking make me chase you!” Day yelled as he pushed his legs to move faster. He shrugged out of his leather coat and easily hopped the car in the intersection while keeping his weapon trained on the man who was currently thirty feet in front of him.

“Stop!” he yelled again.

His suspect turned to see how close he was, and Day took the opportunity to leap, successfully knocking the large man to the ground, and rolling with him. Day immediately scrambled to get on top and kneed the man as hard as he could in his kidney, immensely satisfied by the loud wail that burst out of him. Day looked around first before dropping another knee onto the man’s other kidney. “That’s for making me run, asshole. I just had a bean burrito… you do not want to know what’s going on in my fucking stomach right now.” Day removed his handcuffs from his back pocket. He looked up and saw Godfrey smiling down at him from the driver’s side of his truck.

“Are you gonna fuck him or arrest him, Day?” Godfrey smirked at him.

“Fuck you, God.” Day grunted as he pulled his suspect up off the ground. “Why do I always have to chase the runners?” He huffed and threw their suspect none too gently into the police cruiser that’d also pulled up.

“My suspects are always too scared to run,” Godfrey said with a shrug.

“I can’t wait to get back to the station. I’m going to kick James’s ass. There were twice as many guys in that drug house as he said there’d be.”

Day took his leather coat from the uniformed officer who’d picked it up for him and jumped up into the big F350’s passenger seat.

“Yeah, I definitely think we need a new snitch,” Godfrey responded while pulling smoothly into traffic and then flooring it down the boulevard.

“So, good cop bad cop?” Godfrey smiled at Day.

“We’re both bad cops, God.” Day smiled back.

“This is true, but you’re more convincing as good cop.” God stroked his goatee. “Hey, uh, you know Cap is gonna chew our asses out for not calling for backup.”

“Which is whose fault? I told you to call it in, God… but no… you gotta be Billy Bad-ass and kick the door in before we even got the plan down,” Day argued. He tried to stretch his legs and hissed at the pain in his knees. “God, I swear you’re chasing the next one, man, my knees are killing me.”

“If you stopped dropping down on them in back alleys, they’d be fine when you’re at work,” God replied easily, taking the toothpick from his mouth and flicking it out the window.

“Oh, wow, aren’t you just full of shits and giggles today.” Day pulled one of his 9mm handguns from his holster and checked the safety before locking it back in place and putting his leather coat back on. He held on to the oh-shit bar as God made a hard right turn into the station’s parking lot. They saw the squad cars pulling into the underground tunnel with their four new arrests and the evidence van backing in to unload the fifty pounds of marijuana they’d just secured from their raid.

Day dropped down to the pavement and winced again at his aching knees.

“There’s no way those idiots could bring that kind of weight into the city on their own, God. We’re getting closer to the kingpin… I can feel it.”

“Well let someone else feel it, princess. Long as we get the drugs off the streets, I’m good,” God replied, and aimed the key fob toward his truck, activating the alarm.

Godfrey—or as Day and most of the force liked to call him, God—fell in line with his partner and strolled through the precinct’s bull pen like they hadn’t a care in the world. But Day knew they’d fucked up. They should’ve had backup when going in to make that kind of arrest, but their snitch had lied to them about how many dealers worked out of that house. Although he and God were able to take four of them into custody, three others had gotten away… and there was a little gunfire in there too.

God’s tight black T-shirt clung to his body while his gold detective’s badge, which hung from a sterling-silver link chain around his neck, swayed methodically as he walked. His dark denim jeans fit snuggly but comfortably. His gun holsters held his Desert Eagle on one side and his 9mm handgun on the other. His thigh-length black leather coat barely concealed the large firearms or the six-inch serrated blade with the pearl-handle grip secured under his left arm.

Day was about five inches shorter than him, but they complimented each other perfectly. Day was quick, witty, smart, skilled, and very dangerous. He’d graduated at the top of his academy class and already had commendations for marksmanship. It’d only taken four years for him to make detective and after overseeing several of the city’s most successful drug busts along with God, both were promoted to the Tactical Narcotics Team. God and Day were known on the street, they were respected, revered even. When drug kings saw them busting through their front door… they knew their reign was over.

Everyone also knew Day was gay and out, but ever since that first day in the conference room when God choked Ronowski without a second thought, no one bothered Day about it, because no one wanted to face the wrath of God.

“So we hear you two busted up that cartel over on 33rd street.” Detective Seasel strolled up beside God as he sat at his desk with his boots propped up on the edge. Day was perched on the corner, looking down at his partner, silently communicating with him like always.

“That’s right, sweetheart, another righteous bust for us,” Day bragged. He looked around Seasel to her partner, whose electrifying blue eyes were shooting daggers at both of them. “You got a problem with that, Ronowski? You look like you're dying to get something off your chest.”

“I don’t have a goddamn word to say to you, Day. Come on, Vikki, let’s get out of here, we have a planning session to get to. Unlike you fuckups, there are some of us who believe in working as a team to get the job done right.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” Day shook his head sadly and sucked his teeth at the angry man. “Mad because we didn’t invite you to come along, Ronowski?”

Ronowski gritted his teeth. “What-the-fuck-ever. This unit is about working as a team. Every time you jackasses go off half-cocked, someone has to come behind you and clean up your fucking mess.” The detective fumed.

God just shook his head watching the angry exchange. There was no love lost between Day and Ronowski, obviously. Ronowski’s partner, Vikki Seasel, was cool though. She was a pretty woman with an even hotter body. She had plump lips and long sandy-brown hair that she kept pulled into a tight ponytail at the base of her neck. Her warm brown eyes were beautiful and although she was tough as nails, she knew how to bat her eyes to throw a suspect off during an interrogation. Her hips were nicely proportionate to her small waistline, and Day didn’t miss God’s lustful stare whenever she approached.

“All right, let’s go, Ro. I’ll see you guys later.” She gave God an extra-long stare before turning and following her partner through the bull pen.

Day waited until they were almost to the other side of the room before standing up.

“So, Ronowski, same time as last night… my place, right? I bought the extra large condoms this time, so we don’t have that little problem again,” Day yelled for all to hear.

Ronowski spun around, his face a bright shade of red and Day thought the man was going to burst a blood vessel in his neck.

“Fuck you, Day!” Ronowski yelled back at him, his fist clenched at his side.

“So you want to do me this time? That’s cool; I’ll let that tight ass of yours have a break tonight.” Day feigned confusion before adding, “I guess we won’t need those extra large condoms after all, huh?”

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.”

I did shit-dick, but someone can’t take no for an answer.

Day didn’t bother voicing his response as he sipped his hot coffee, refusing to let this man ruin his Zen feeling. Detective Johnson was far from an ugly man, actually he was fucking stunning, but he was also pompous and not Day’s type. The man really thought he could have whatever he wanted because he had a trust fund.

“You gave me that number and said you didn’t mind me calling you.” He propped one arm up on the cabinet next to Day’s head. His cinnamon breath was wafting down on top of him… and into my motherfucking cup of coffee.

“I know I said you could call me, but there are two explanations for that. Now either I was lying… or I was wrong about the number of explanations.” Day smirked and took another sip.

“That slick mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble.” Detective Johnson turned his lip up at him. The man really couldn’t take a damn hint.

He had Day up against the counter with only a hair of breathing room between them. Day could’ve easily gotten out of there, but he liked fucking with the smug detective. Detective Johnson was a ballistics expert who went from precinct to precinct assisting on cases where needed. Obviously Cap had called him in to assist with the guns that were recovered during their recent bust.

“Well, umm, I gotta get back to the grind. Wouldn’t want you to tell Daddy I’m slacking off.” Day gently set his cup of coffee on the counter, spun, and ducked under the detective’s arm before the man could blink twice. Day grabbed his mug and made his way to the other side of the room.

“So me and you, dinner this weekend?” Detective Johnson said to Day's back.

Day snorted, while grabbing a muffin for God.

“So is that a no, Day?”

“That’s a fuck no.” Day opened the door and left the room. He could hear Detective Johnson’s curses as he walked away.

Day made his way through the office and when he was a few feet away from their desk, he tossed God the blueberry muffin. God looked at him for a few seconds, using their soundless communication.

“You’re welcome,” Day said, dropping down in his chair. He took another long gulp before releasing a deep breath. He cracked his neck on both sides and leveled his hazel eyes on his partner. “So you ready to do the nasty, God?” he asked him with complete seriousness.

“As ready as I’m gonna be. Give it to me, baby,” God replied with a frustrated huff.

Day began downloading the multitude of forms and printing them out to be completed. God groaned at all the papers printing on their small desktop printer. “Uhhh, fuckin’ paperwork… shit! Hate it!” God all but yelled.