Nothing Special

By: A. E. Via


A Very Special Thank You to the LaSalle Sisters (Stephanie, Cheryl, and Iza) of for writing the synopsis and coming up with an awesome title for this great work. Your wordplay was absolutely phenomenal. Thank you so much for helping me meet a very tight deadline. It was a pleasure working with such talented ladies. Your thoughts and feedback really helped me to develop the hilarious intensity that is Cash and Leo. Cheryl, I can’t wait to see the trailer!


“I expect for my officers to be diligent, dedicated, focused, and work together as one unit. But most importantly, I expect for my officers to not get themselves killed.”

Detective Cashel Godfrey groaned and rolled his eyes at the captain’s obvious statement of most of their goals. He was pretty sure that all of the officers just coming out of the academy probably didn’t want to die anytime soon. Fifteen new recruits were squeezed in the small meeting room eagerly anticipating who they were going to be partnered with and how soon they were going to be able to get out onto the streets. The ever-present hero complex shinning in their eyes.

Godfrey tried to inconspicuously survey the freshly shaven faces. He didn’t recognize any of them from the academy class he’d graduated from. Most of the cliché rookies were sporting gelled hair, large, tattooed biceps, and sports Ray-Bans turned backward and resting on their thick necks. He tried not to be too obvious while looking into their eyes—seeing if he could make any kind of a connection with his future partner. He wasn’t prepared for the light brown eyes that were unblinking and locked onto him.

Godfrey quickly took in the man’s lithe but strong physique. Although the man was sitting, he knew he couldn’t be any taller than five foot ten, five eleven. His hair was a dirty-blond color, free of product and longer than he’d expect a rookie to wear it. His trendy five o’clock shadow was already present at eight in the morning. Godfrey unconsciously fingered his own neatly trimmed goatee and saw the man quirk up one side of his mouth, his gaze still steady on him.

His arms were crossed over his chest and the short-sleeved, blue polyester uniform shirt showed the peeking of a skull and crossbones on his left biceps. Godfrey had to squint his eyes to see the simple lettering on the five-inch name tag that sat just above his right pocket. DAY. When he brought his eyes back up, he could see Day’s intelligent eyes were sizing him up just as hard.

Godfrey heard the captain clap his hands together once, breaking their stare-off.

“All right, officers, today you’ll spend most of your time in admin getting your log-ins and IDs for the database, there’ll also be a few uniforms standing by to do the tours of the station: interrogation rooms, holding tanks, records room, gym, locker rooms, blah, blah.” He trailed off. The captain looked hard at everyone in the room. “When you’re finished today, I want you all to go home, fuck your wives, kiss your kids, because from the next day forward, I don’t give a fuck about office hours…you’re here until I tell you you can leave. I own your rookie asses until you prove otherwise. Got it? Any questions?” His voice boomed in the large room.

Godfrey watched Day raise two fingers.

“What is it, Officer Day?” The captain looked hard, dark eyes at the man who was already sporting a sarcastic smirk.

“What if you don’t have a wife to fuck, sir?” Day quipped, his mouth twitching at trying to hide his amusement.

“Then fuck your boyfriend, Day, I don’t give a shit, just make sure you can still drag your ass back in here at o’ dark thirty tomorrow, smart-mouth.” The captain snatched his paperwork off the small wooden podium and left the room.

“Yes, sir,” Day whispered after the captain slammed the door.

The men started to gather their papers and bags, getting ready to file out of the room. Godfrey lingered while watching Officer Day pull out his cell phone and use a thin stylus to manipulate the small screen.

“Well at least we’ve spotted the faggot cop early on, so we know who to protect our junk from in the locker room.”

Laughter rang throughout the room.

Day’s head eased up slowly and leveled what Godfrey assumed was his annoyed face at the wannabe 21 Jump Street cop that’d stopped to see if he could push a couple of Day’s buttons while securing his reputation as the homophobic, asshole cop.

Godfrey slowly eased around the table, approaching the cop from behind and Day immediately locked on to Godfrey’s eyes over the asshole’s shoulder.

Day looked at the man’s nametag. “I think your pencil-dick is safe, Ronowski…you’re not my type anyway. I have a strict no-bastards rule. Now move on.”

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