[Right, this is where we find that my exposure to firing ranges is almost entirely through cop shows and Mythbusters]

Tuesday evening Joe dashed out of work late. It was 6:30 and he had to meet Steve at the range for seven. There wasn't time for him to get home and change, so he was stuck dressed for work. He was pretty sure a suit wasn't appropriate dress to go learn how to shoot things, but he didn't have a whole lot of choice.

The firing range was in a nondescript brick building by an industrial park on the other side of town. Joe managed to get there, but only with five minutes to spare. He saw Steve's car already parked around the side and pulled in next to it. Steve was in the car finishing off a burger.

"Hey," he said as Joe got out of the car. "You made it."

"Who could pass up a chance to put holes in things?"

"Right," Steve said. "I'll remember to stand behind you."

They walked into the building, Steve carrying a metal case.

The guy working the front desk looked up as they walked up.

"Detective Russell. How's it going tonight?"

"Pretty good, Phil," Steve said. "Got a pair of lanes free tonight?"

He punched a few keys on his computer and looked at the screen. "It's quiet tonight. You can have seven and eight."

"Great. Can we throw Joe here on my membership?"

"Sure," Phil said. "Can I see your license please? And will you need anything?"

Joe fished out his license and handed it to Phil. "I don't know. Do I need anything?"

"Give him a set of earmuffs for today." He waved the case at Phil. "I've got everything else this time."

"This time?" Joe asked. "You make it sound like I'll be back."

Steve smiled. "Oh, yeah, buddy, trust me. You'll be back."

Phil smirked as he handed over the ear protection. "I'll buzz you back," he said. The buzzer sounded and they went through a side door and down a hall.

The range was simple enough. It was a long cinderblock room with dividers marking off eight lanes. Track ran along the ceiling, and at the end were paper silhouettes with a bullseye in the center. Behind them was a table with a pile of replacement sheets, and at every lane there was a small table.

"I assume you understand the basic idea here, right?" Steve asked. It sounded like a stupid question, but he'd been tagged to give a gun safety course for the local boy scout troop one year and had learned not to make assumptions.

"Yeah. Point, shoot. How hard can it be?"

Steve shook his head and smiled to himself. This was going to be fun. He took a few minutes to run through the range safety rules.

"Okay, got it. Bullet comes out the end with the hole, leave it unloaded if I'm not going to use it, don't point at anything I don't want to kill, don't trust the safety, guns I haven't checked are always loaded, TV lies."

"Not exactly how I'd put it," Steve said. Joe was being flip, and he found it a little irritating. Joe wasn't taking this nearly seriously enough, and he was tempted to call the whole thing off. If Joe was going to be dating Chris he had better learn to use a gun, so Steve put the annoyance aside. Barely.

"So when do I get to shoot something?" Joe was both nervous and excited. A little part of him felt guilty at the excitement