“Sounds good guys. Stay on him. Keep it safe and don’t blow it. If you think you can get this guy to talk, great but we don’t want him to get spooked and we sure as fuck don’t want his crew to find out,” Day said and clicked off the projector.

After God and Day had finished going over information regarding new cases, they’d pulled up all the information on the guy that gave them the slight “invite in” on Cleveland. James Carter, aka JJ. He was considered a lieutenant in Chainz’s organization. He’d definitely have a lot of intel. But they didn’t know if he would possibly talk just to eliminate Chainz so he could take over the business. The drug business was dog-eat-dog. Or JJ could genuinely be concerned about Chainz bringing the heat down on them. It wouldn’t be too far-fetched that a few of Chainz’s boys might have felt in over their heads with getting into foreign drug smuggling. That kind of bust would land you in a Federal prison for twenty-five to life. 

“I’ll get with my FBI contacts and let them know what’s going on,” God added.

Everyone groaned and sat back in their chairs looking disgusted. If it’s one thing police didn’t like, it was the feds coming in and taking over their bust after they’d done all the fucking work. It happened all the time.

God looked up from his file. Glaring at them. “Are my men fuckin’ whining? What the fuck is this? You want to rewrite the laws? Federal crimes shouldn’t be policed by Federal law enforcement?”

No one said anything. They knew the law, but it still left a bad taste in their mouth. Syn was standing off to the side and pushed off the wall when he saw God revving up. He put a firm hand on God’s shoulder and stepped in front of him. “We know it’s a bitch. But  there’s one thing your lieutenants and your captain have done for this task force, and that was make sure you guys got your fuckin’ credit when credit was due. This op will be no different. Everyone’s gonna know who brought these bastards down.”

Day added in a “fuck yeah” giving Syn a fist bump. It only took a second for the rest of them to join in. Sarge always knew how to smooth things over, and that was not easy when you had a room full of twenty plus men with too much testosterone.

Most of the men had left right after the meeting. Ruxs and Green were given another stern lecture on tact and not costing the department so much money every time they went out into the field. But this time, Syn threatened to chain them to their desks for a few months. Ruxs looked like he wanted to throw up, but Green told himself that he wouldn’t need another lecture. They’d tone it down. Syn didn’t issue idle threats. There was no way they could be stuck in the office all day, they’d lose their minds.

Green was just finishing the Greek pasta salad he’d made for dinner. The French roll he’d swung by and picked up from the bakery was the perfect compliment. The game was in the eighth inning and he’d lost interest when the Braves fell behind by three runs. He reclined on his couch, one hand draped over his head and the other down his pants, mindlessly massaging his balls.  It was unusually quiet in his two-story loft tonight. The renovated space sat above a distribution warehouse that operated primarily during the day. The owner of the building charged him a cheap rent, since he said Green kept the riffraff way. Although Ruxs had a small apartment twenty minutes away, he was always at Green’s loft.

It was a large open space on the bottom floor, the seating areas sectioned off. A dining area, although the table was used to hold a desktop computer and two laptops, in addition to a slew of files. There was a pool table in the far right end, with a bar and stools. A foosball table and a pinball machine. The low-back sectional was in front of sixty-inch television that was primarily used for video games. Ruxs called it the entertainment section. The large living room had a plush, over-sized couch with an ottoman and several recliners in front of a massive entertainment center, but the space was so big nothing looked over-crowded.

He huffed a weary breath and shut everything off. He checked the windows, looking down on the street to see if any activity was going on before he went upstairs. There were only three rooms on the top level. One had weightlifting equipment and a treadmill. The master bedroom was his and Ruxs would often crash in the other. Green had told him to just move in. The guy never fuckin’ left. He probably had more clothes there than at his own place.

He walked through the small sitting area in his room, not bothering to turn on any lights. His electric bill could be a bitch if he wasn’t conscious about not putting on all the lights in his place. Just as he was getting ready to peel out of his sweats his phone buzzed on his dresser. He looked at the display screen and couldn’t stop the smile that stretched across his face. He hit the speaker and took the phone to his nightstand.

“Date over already?” Green said instead of hello.

“Nah, man. What are you doing?” Ruxs’ deep voice filled his room.

Green barked a laugh. “What does it matter? You’re on a date. Shouldn’t you be trying to round third base by now?”

“Oh, yeah. Bases. Who won the game?”

Green really laughed loud. “That was not the bases I was talking about, dude. What the fuck, man?”

“Who won, Green?”

Green huffed. He clicked on his television, turning back to the game. “Braves are still down by three.”

“Goddamnit! What inning is it?”

“Bottom of the ninth!” he yelled. “Where’s your date?”

“She’s inside waiting on a table.”

“By herself? Mark, what the hell.”

Silence.

“Mark.”

Ruxs voice was barely a whisper, “You hardly ever say my first name.”

Green sat there a couple seconds. What was that sound in Ruxs’ voice? He’d said his name plenty of times. Or had he? He was about to speak again when Ruxs spoke first.

“She’s getting on my nerves. We don’t have anything in common. She keeps asking questions about God and what he’s like. And she kept grabbing my arm during the scary parts of the movie.”

Green listened to his partner, shaking his head at the absurdity. “You’re both in law enforcement, so you have something pretty big in common. Everyone asks questions about God, he’s fuckin’ weirdly scary interesting. And if you take a chick to a scary movie, that’s what she’s going to do.”

“She’s boring and we still have to get through dinner and drinks.”

“You’ll be fine. Talk about work. About a happy case, not a fucked up case. Talk about that big one vice just solved and all those girls were returned to their families. You’re funny too, tell her some crazy shit you do at work. Next thing you know she’ll be pulling her panties down for you. Just talk.”

“I don’t wanna talk to her. I wanna talk to you.” Ruxs voice was low and deep again… almost sexy.

Green tried to ignore it. “You sound like a kid. I’m going to bed. See ya in the morning.”

“Wait! Wait!”

Green let his exasperation be heard. “What Mark?”

Ruxs let loose a soft chuckle. “You said it again.”

Green just sat there listening. Was he for real right now?

“Come up here.”

“What!” Green sat up straight.

“We’re at The Brick Bookhouse. Come on. It’s only fifteen minutes away,” Ruxs pleaded.

“I don’t give a fuck if it’s downstairs, Ruxs. I’m not gonna crash your date. How pathetic do you think that would make me look?”

“No it won’t.”

“Yes. It would. Besides how do you expect to get laid, dude, if I’m there? She’ll think you’re trying to do some kinky shit if you ask me to join you.” Green laughed.

“She ain’t gonna sleep with me. She’s one of those ‘gotta at least be date number five’ chicks. Just come on Green. I’ll buy your drinks and your food.”

“I already ate,” he said, bored.

“Come on, man.”

“No!”

“Please, Chris,” Ruxs said softly. “Please.”

Fuck. Why did their first names sound so good coming from one another? Green was already rising up out of bed. He opened his dresser and pulled out a simple white cotton tee.

“I can hear you getting dressed. Thank you. I’ll wait outside for you.”

“No, Ruxs. Go back inside and be with your date. I’ll be there in twenty.”

“Say my name again.” Ruxs teased him.

“Shut up, Armin.” Green smiled.

“Hey! You know I hate that name. Anyone else calls me that and I’ll punch them in their throat.”

Green could tell Ruxs was smiling. He hung up on him. Fuckin’ Armin Mark Ruxsberg. He couldn’t believe he was actually going. He pulled on some comfortable jeans and slipped his feet in his Jordans. He had no clue why he splashed his face with his brand new Azur aftershave, but he did. After running his fingers through his hair with a little product, leaving the long strands standing up and some falling in different directions, he flicked off everything and jogged down the metal stairs.

What the fuck am I doing? He’s on a date for Christ’s sake. He waited in the dim walkway at his front door. Hesitating. He’d told Ruxs, Mark, he was coming. Next thing he knew he was in his truck, roaring down the busy street, headed downtown.