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"Tuna on white, no crust, right?"
"I don't know. How is it?"
Two years in prison had taught Dom how to do one of two things; to respond immediately to a given situation, or to wait and gather needed information. But whichever course of action he took, it was because he chose it, it didn't choose him. Most people drifted through life merely reacting to stimuli, either not waiting that split second long enough to process external information, or over processing and losing the initiative. If Dom had understood this simple concept when he was younger, he could have saved himself those two excruciatingly long years in Lompoc.
At the sound of the male voice that answered his sister's teasing question, Dom had to stomp hard on the impulse to simply turn and stare. The voice was deep, though not as deep as his own, and it had a husky, velvety quality to it, like the taste of Cuervo Reserva he'd had a few times. It made something shudder deep inside of Dom and coil tight in anticipation. He held himself in check to a count of ten, hearing but not really taking in the banter between his sister and the stranger. When Mia moved away from the counter to make the sandwich, Dom decided it was time to take a look at this kid. He'd been sniffing around Mia for the past three weeks, tying knots in Vince's tail. Not that Dom had known about the guy for three weeks, wouldn't have known about him except for overhearing Vince's whining to an unsympathetic Leon.
Dom slowly levered himself up from the table, walked to the cooler and pulled out a can of soda. He turned just as slowly, raising his eyes while popping the top of the can...and was skewered by a pair of eyes so blue they were practically electric. Eyes that color should seem cold, shouldn't they? These blazed with the intensity of a flame just before it glows white-hot.
When Dom pulled his eyes away and glanced at Mia, he was surprised to see that he'd only been standing there for seconds, not minutes. Mia was still making the damn sandwich. The muscles of his body felt swollen, his joints rusty and rebellious as he made himself turn slowly away with a feigned nonchalance and return to the table. Dom could feel those eyes boring into the back of his skull, painting his exposed body with an icy hot blue that drew his skin almost unbearably tight. He ruthlessly suppressed a shudder, quickly shoving down the surge of emotions that were too strong, too uncontrollable, too confusing.
Then Mia moved back across the small space behind the counter, reclaiming the other man's attention and there was a sudden easing of the tension, as though someone had switched off an electrical current. Dom released the breath he hadn't known he was holding, then let himself carefully inhale and exhale several times, trying to let the heat bleed away from his brain. A low, velvet "Thank you", murmured behind his back, was enough to make him feel as though he'd touched his tongue to the top of a fully charged battery, causing a hot, tingling rush to sweep over him once again.
What the fuck was going on? What was it about this kid? Dom wasn't even sure he could describe him beyond 'blond and good-looking'...and the eyes. Jesus! Those eyes. He tried to analyze his reactions, but his mind felt sluggish, even while his body was still vibrating like an engine approaching red-line. Dom couldn't remember a time when he'd had such a visceral reaction to another human being, but the feeling had a touch of the familiar to it. He'd felt something similar before but he couldn't quite put his finger on it...
The Charger.
It came to him in another flush of heat. Every time he opened the garage doors and the light glinted off of the glossy finish of the beautiful beast he kept hidden from the rest of the world, that he wouldn't - couldn't - share with the rest of the world, he got the same kind of breathless, overwhelming feeling of life and movement held at bay. Dom was never able to figure out if it was the car's 'life' or his own that was held in stasis.
Then Dom heard the purr of the engines, the faint squeal of the tires on the hot pavement, the low rumble of voices. Salvation. The team was here and they'd be the diversion that Dom needed to shake off the unease and the strange restless mood that he seemed to have fallen into.
"Hey Dom, y'want somethin' to drink?"
Without glancing around Dom held up the can of soda. Letty was going to be pissed, but she'd just have to deal because Dom wasn't going to turn around. He refused to delve any deeper into his reasoning. He just continued to leaf through the newspaper he hadn't read a word of since the stranger had entered the store.
When he felt the atmosphere in the store begin to thicken in anticipation, he knew without looking that Vince was confronting the blond. Fine. It drew attention away from his own unexpectedly convoluted feelings.
"Ah, he's bee-you-ti-full!" Jesse drawled, blatant tones of sarcasm tinting his words, but Dom also heard the trace of awe that filtered through them. Leon's reply, mumbled around a mouth full of chips, didn't quite make it to Dom.
"Vince. VINCE!" Mia's raised voice brought Dom's attention back to the here and now.
"What?"
"Can I get you anything?"
There was a short pause. "You look good," Vince said softly.
Dom rolled his eyes. He loved Vince like a brother, but the man was as dense as sunbaked mud when it came to certain things, chief among them, Mia. He'd been pursuing Mia for more than four years now, with only amusement, condescension and sarcasm for his troubles. Until recently Mia hadn't really cared because she had been intent on studying. So while she enjoyed the occasional date, she wasn't ready for anything more serious. That's where Vince came in handy. He could be counted on to scare away any of Mia's would-be boyfriends after a predictably short time. But Mia was beginning to show a kind of restlessness and resentment about Vince's behavior. Dom dreaded the day when he would have to make Vince back off. He didn't think their friendship would remain quite the same after that.
"Thanks a lot Mia. See you tomorrow."
The kid was leaving. Dom felt relief pour through him. But if that was such a good thing, why did Dom's gut suddenly clench again at the thought. And why was his mind suddenly sorting through the scheduled tasks for tomorrow, mentally rearranging them to make time for lunch at the store.
"I love this part." Dom almost missed Leon's quietly sarcastic dead-pan, the words really only registered in retrospect after Vince's shouted "Yo!"
He could hear Vince's loud voice, but it had moved outside, so Dom couldn't make out the words, and they were growing fainter still. Suddenly he could hear the hollow thump of a body slamming into a car. Then grunts and the unmistakable sound of fist striking flesh.
"Jesus Christ, Dom! Would you get out there, please? I'm sick of this shit!" Dom's first reaction was to ignore his sister and let Vince drive the man away. "I'm not kidding, Dom! Get out there!" Oh well, so much for that idea. It was eerie how much Mia could sound like their mother. Maria Toretto may have been 'just' a stay-at-home wife and mother, but there was never any doubting the power of her will and her voice. Even big Nick Toretto had treaded carefully at home when his wife's temper had run high.
Slowly pushing himself to his feet, Dom turned and glanced out through the open store front to the street. He had to stop himself from grinning; it would only piss Mia off more. But the kid obviously didn't need rescuing, not from the looks of the pounding he was handing out to Vince anyway. "Whadyou put in that sandwich?" He couldn't help himself.
"Dom!?" A quick glance at Letty showed him she was pissed. Her impatient glance toward the street told him she expected him to do something about it. Whether it was on Mia's behalf or Vince's, or just on principle, he wasn't sure. Jesse's face was quietly eager, while Leon continued to munch through a bag of chips, eyes slanted sideways, waiting to take his cue from Dom.
Dom felt a flash of impatience. What was he, the fucking playground monitor? "Alright," he said. Decision made, Dom made his way quickly to the street. He could hear Jesse and Leon hot on his heels.
When Dom had taken his first look at the fighting pair, they'd been across the street near the Racer's Edge truck. In the intervening time they'd managed to scramble and brawl their way back until they were behind Leon's Skyline. The kid was straddling Vince's body and got in a couple of good shots before Dom grabbed him around the middle and pulled him off, slamming him up against the Maxima. The kid sprawled backwards across the car and Dom had a momentary mental flash of his own body pressing on top of that lanky form. The seeming loss of control over his own mind infuriated Dom. When the kid raised his arms in the universal gesture of surrender, it did nothing to placate Dom. In fact it seemed to have brought out the predator in him.
"Hey man, he's in my face!" That voice and the intensity of those eyes, both aimed at Dom, seemed to stoke the fire that was building inside of him. His only choices seemed to be violent, primitive ones. Either lay his hands on that deceptively solid body and do something that he knew he'd regret, or respond with a more straight forward kind of violence. So Dom stepped forward until only a foot separated them and he could feel the heat radiating from that lean body, competing with the heat from the mid-day sun. "I'm in your face!"
Dom turned just in time to intercept Vince's hurtling body as he lunged toward his rival. Dom threw Vince back to a waiting Leon, snarling at him. "Relax! Don't push it! You embarrass me!" He let the matter of Vince slide from his mind. Leon would deal with him. "Get over there!" he heard Leon grouse.
He didn't need this shit!
"Jesse! Gimme the wallet."
Brian. His name was Brian. It suited him. The 'Earl' though, that was kinda funky. He just didn't see it. The irrelevancy of his thoughts pissed Dom off even more and he forced himself to deal with the problem at hand.
"Don't come around here again!"
Why did that thought fill him with a very mixed sense of relief?
"Hey man, you know this is bullshit!"
And still he fought!
Like all of the other emotions that this kid, this Brian Earl Spilner, had pulled out of him in such a short time, like rabbits from a magician's hat, the current ones were a contradiction. He felt a thread of admiration that the kid was standing up to him...not many did, not even his own team...but it was quickly smothered by a flash-over of fury. It was too much. He spun around and charged back.
Too many emotions, too much pressure. Dom continually felt like the only possible outcome for himself was either explosion or implosion. But the haunting specter of Kenny Linder's mangled face and the echoing slam of a cell door put a cap on the first, so Dom could feel another layer being tamped down deep inside of him. Dom often shuddered at the thought of what the p.s.i. on his soul was. How much pressure could he take before he blew apart or collapsed in on himself? He had to get rid of this kid, get him out of their lives. He was shredding Dom's hard won self-control. He was dangerous. 'Dangerous to your peace of mind,' the ruthlessly truthful portion of his mind prodded.
"You work for Harry, right?"
"Yeah, I just started."
"You were just fired!"
Dom didn't wait around to watch as Brian Earl Spilner climbed back into the cab of the red pickup, but he did hear him peel off down the street.
"...shoulda let me pound that little faggot's pretty face into the pavement!" Vince was telling Leon hotly, pressing against the arm that Leon held up against Vince's middle like a crossing guard.
"Yeah, well, from what I could tell V, the kid was doing a fair share of that pounding. You need to cool down..." Leon broke off as Dom charged up. His eyes searched Dom's face warily.
Dom grabbed Vince by the scruff of the neck and pulled him toward the side of the building. "Go back inside!" Dom threw the order over his shoulder at the others, not bothering to make sure he'd be obeyed.
"Dom," Vince protested, "You shoulda let me..."
As they rounded the corner, Dom planted his hand in the middle of Vince's chest and shoved him back against the brick wall hard enough for it to shock his friend. Good! Vince needed to be shocked, maybe then he'd listen. Dom planted a hand on the wall beside Vince's head and leaned in close.
"Shut up, Vince!" Dom's tone forestalled further argument. "You know, I'm going to have to agree with Mia." Vince held himself very still, eyes slightly widened at the tone and aura of suppressed violence in Dom’s voice. "I'm sick of this shit, too, Vince. You're like a loose cannon on the subject and it's becoming a liability."
"Dom!" Vince protested hotly, "He was..."
"I don't give a shit about him," Dom interjected harshly, using his free hand to make a throwaway gesture. "This isn't about him. This isn't about Jeff Friedman, or Chaz Parker, or that little surfer punk with the dreads that Mia was seeing last summer. This is about you. One of these days you're going to have to accept the fact that Mia doesn't see you the way you want her to. She's not for you, Vince," Dom said forcefully, but then his voice gentled. "I'm sorry."
Vince was quiet for a moment, his eyes locked with Dom's for an instant before he dropped them. "Are you telling me to back off, Dom?" Vince's voice was a low growl, but with a hint of pleading in it.
Dom brought up his hand and rubbed it tiredly across his face. "No, I'm not. Not yet, anyway." Dom pushed himself away from his friend and half turned until he presented his profile to the other man. "Mia's a big girl, Vince. Big enough to make her own decisions. And when she's finally had enough, she'll tell you herself." Dom slid an impassive glance toward Vince who was staring back again. "And when that time comes...and it will come, Vince...you're going to have to make up your mind to back down and move on." Dom turned back and stared steadily at the other man. "I love you like a brother, Vince, but Mia is my sister."
Seemingly unable to tear his eyes from Dom's, Vince waited a beat before lowering them once more to the ground. He gave one quick nod before pushing himself away from the wall. He edged past Dom and disappeared around front. A few moments later Dom heard the violent explosion of Vince's car jumping to life, then the high pitched squeal of rubber slipping on pavement until the tires caught and propelled him away.
Dom let himself lean back against the wall, arms crossed, head thrown back, the rough brick digging lightly into his bare scalp. He stayed that way for a few minutes, his mind violently churning over the events of the last half hour, until he caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. Dom mentally braced himself for a confrontation with Letty. The woman was like a badger. When she smelled something beneath the surface, she'd just keep digging until she exhausted even the strongest person into submission.
But it was just Leon. Leon was safe, someone who never demanded. Not answers, not attention, whatever. Leon was just a peaceful presence that usually had the ability to soothe Dom. Usually.
"You finally have 'the talk' with Vince?" Leon asked quietly.
"Sort of," Dom said tiredly. "A preliminary skirmish anyway."
"He gonna be OK?"
"I hope so," Dom said.
A few beats of silence, and a hand came out to rest on Dom's arm, warm and solid, squeezing lightly. "You gonna be alright, Dom?"
Dom exhaled slowly, his mind fixed not on the mental picture of Vince's dejected but determined face, but on a pair of icy hot blue eyes.
"I hope so," he repeated softly.
About a mile away, a red pick-up turned onto a side street and pulled to the curb.
"Shit!" Brian exclaimed, pounding his fists against the steering wheel. "So fucking stupid!" he muttered harshly. This wasn't how the first meeting was supposed to go. This wasn't going to get him next to Toretto. He was going to have to re-think and come up with another plan.
Brian's mind was whirling through a dizzying selection of possibilities when he realized he was gently stroking his left side beneath his arm. He grew still as he probed the flesh beneath his t-shirt. He didn't remember Vince landing any punches to his ribs.
Slowly it came to him that what he felt, whatever it was, was mirrored on his other side. It only took a moment for the answer to come to him.
He felt the ghost imprint on two large hands that had practically spanned his rib cage before pulling him off of his opponent. He could still feel the residue of their warmth left behind. Warmth hell, now that is was conscious of it, it felt as though he'd been branded.
Putting both hands on the wheel, Brian gripped it tightly enough for his knuckles to show white. His mind was a jumble of images, replaying the last half hour of his life.
The photos, the reports, nothing hadn't prepared him for the reality of Dominic Toretto, the sheer presence of the man.
Brian thrust the thoughts abruptly from his mind and reached over to viciously crank the engine to life. Throwing it into gear, Brian pulled quickly away and sped back toward the Racer's Edge, pushing his mind to deal with the job at hand.
end