Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it's not mine. The Fast and the Furious, The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift, and all the characters of those movies belong to someone else.

RICKMAN FIELD AIRSTRIP
PRIVATE PROPERTY
DO NOT ENTER

Lindsey O'Conner slowed to an abrupt stop in front of the tall chain-link gate, idly adjusting the booming bass level in her purring, modified Mitsubishi Eclipse. Through the tinted windows, she saw two football players jump from the flatbed of a Dodge Ram behind her, sprinting to the gate. One of them pulled a key ring from his pocket, and moments later the gate was thrown open.

A cheer rose through the air as Lindsey shifted and flew through the fence, her Toyo tires kicking up dust from the dirt road below as she sped over the uneven terrain. Moments later, she hit a long, straight stretch of pavement that extended a few hundred feet in the distance. The cars following Lindsey parked quickly, bordering both sides of the road and shining their brights through the darkness. People hopped out of their cars, leaving their stereos blasting.

Smirking, Lindsey gunned her engine and cranked her system. Shouts of encouragement rose from the crowd as she slammed on the gas, her tires squealing as she traveled down the pavement. As she reached the end of the strip, she pulled the e-brake and counter-steered, effortlessly drifting in a perfect half circle to face the crowd.

Glancing to her left, she saw a tall black guy with close cut hair approaching the driver's side of her car. She lowered the window and he bent down, resting his arms on the door. "Hey lil mama, what's good?"

"Hey, D," Lindsey replied.

"Some kid from up north wants to race you," he revealed with a grin. "Rollin' in a standard looking Lancer. I said you'd go for two g's."

Lindsey grinned, shrugging nonchalantly. "Always the businessman, Derez," she responded.

"You know," he agreed, grinning and showing off his perfect white teeth. Derez was one of her closest friends, and he knew a shitload of people. He was constantly finding new talent rolling through the area and bringing them to the local races. He pretty much ran things around here.

"Where is he?" Lindsey asked curiously, her light blue eyes searching the crowded airstrip for a car she didn't recognize.

"I don't-" he began, but was interrupted by the familiar sound of squealing tires. Lindsey caught sight of a pair of headlights shining in her rearview mirror moments later, and in a heartbeat a bright red Lancer slid to a sudden, noisy stop in the lane to her right.

Lindsey stared at the car, her right eyebrow raised, thoroughly unimpressed. Blinking a couple times, she turned to face Derez. "Never mind," she drawled sarcastically. "I found him."

He laughed. "Aight, mama, I'll see you at the finish line. Do me proud," he called as he swaggered away from the car.

She prepared to crank her stereo up again, but caught sight of the new driver staring at her through his lowered window. Turning to him, she called, "Is there a problem?"

The guy, a bleached blonde in his early twenties, shrugged. "Not really. Just surprised you're the best racer around here."

Lindsey sighed, grimacing. "You won't be after this is over," she replied simply.

He laughed. "Please, honey, you haven't seen what I've got under this hood."

She grinned with amusement. "The size of your engine doesn't do much good if you don't know how to use it. But then again, you're probably not used to having much to work with, are you?"

The guy clenched his jaw. "Whatever. Are we gonna race, or are you gonna bitch out?"

"The only bitch I see here is you," she responded instantly, revving her engine and rolling up her windows. The dark tinting effectively blocked the asshole's line of vision and gave her a few extra seconds to concentrate.

Moments later, a girl Lindsey recognized as a cheerleader from school stepped in front of the cars.

She pointed at Lindsey, who nodded.

She pointed at the new guy, who gunned his engine.

She raised her arms, pointing upwards. The sky's the limit, Lindsey thought with a wry grin.

She took a deep, steadying breath, forgetting the crowd, the music, and the money, focusing only on her car and the road before her. It wasn't about winning anymore; she was reveling in the freedom she had behind the wheel. No one could catch her; she was untouchable. She had the power to win, to lose, to turn around and never come back. That power was absolutely addictive, almost as addictive as the adrenaline coursing through her veins every time her speedometer rose over ninety miles per hour.

Suddenly, the cheerleader's arms flew upward, and Lindsey's foot slammed down on the accelerator. The car lurched forward, hurtling down the stretch of blacktop and climbing speed as she went. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Lancer falling behind. Grinning, she continued to accelerate, shifting gears smoothly and staying clear from his path. He was weaving on the pavement a little unsteadily.

She stayed at least two car lengths ahead down a majority of the stretch, but with only a couple hundred feet left, the guy hit his NOS. He flew up directly next to Lindsey, who made a move to press the little red button on her steering wheel. Before she could apply any pressure, however, the new guy swerved dramatically again, unable to handle the high speed his car was traveling.

Lindsey jerked her steering wheel to the left, attempting to avoid the impact from his car, but was her reaction was too slow. The tight ball of excitement in her stomach burst into pure terror as the Lancer slid into her Eclipse with a loud scrape. She tried desperately to counter steer and keep the car on the pavement as her heart beat double time in her chest, and she almost succeeded… almost.

Her car hit the grass and dirt at over 110 miles per hour. The Eclipse immediately flipped once, twice, three, four times, tossing her small body around like a doll, the safety harness barely offering any protection at all. Glass shattered and seemed to fly through the air in slow motion; the airbags deflated before her eyes. Finally, her head slammed into the side of the car and her vision went black as screams of hysteria rose outside her car.

-X-

The next morning, Lindsey awoke blearily with a massive, throbbing headache. Her father, Jimmy, and his girlfriend, Tina, were seated in chairs near the bed she was lying in, discussing something quietly. She sat up slowly.

"Dad…" she started, wincing as another sharp stab of pain shot through her skull.

Tina hurried outside to get the doctor as Jimmy walked to her bedside. "Lindsey, how you feelin'?"

"Like hell," she replied with a weak grin.

He gave her a small grin, then sobered quickly. "The doctor said you'll be fine, just a bit groggy from the head injury. You had some swelling but it went down overnight. They didn't have to operate, so after the bruising goes way you'll be good as new."

"Good," she said simply, breathing a sigh of relief.

"You were lucky, Linds. Really lucky," he repeated.

"I know, Dad," she nodded.

"What were you thinkin' racin' out there? Especially with there being a party?" he questioned. "The guy you were racing was so high I'm surprised he could still operate a vehicle. The only reason he was driving was because he needed money for more cocaine!"

"I know Dad," she said again. "It was stupid for me to race someone I'd never met. I know, I know," she got louder as he tried to cut in. "I shouldn't have been racing at all, but what's done is done. The worst is over, so now we can go back to normal, right?" she finished irritably. What the hell do you have to do to get some Ibuprofen in this place?

"Not exactly," he answered slowly.

Lindsey looked up, surprised. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He frowned, slipping his hands in his pockets. "Your license has been revoked until your eighteenth birthday. And I spoke with an officer this morning… The county is considerin' charging you with reckless driving and public endangerment. Plus, your blood alcohol level was over the legal limit for underage drinkers," he added sternly.

"Oh, shit," she breathed, her heart falling into her stomach. "There wasn't any damage to property or anything. And they caught a druggie! I mean, if I hadn't flipped my car they wouldn't even know 'bout any of it!"

"I talked to the officer. He suggested sending you away for a while. Maybe a year."

"What the hell's that gonna do?" she asked stubbornly. "Walkin' away will probably just get me in more trouble."

Jimmy shrugged. "He said if you agreed to do some community service and to spend your senior year on probation, outside the county, you could probably get away without a trip to juvie."

"That's…" she started, shaking her head. "That's fuckin ridiculous. Where do they think I'ma go?"

He was silent for a minute. "How do you feel about L.A.?"

-X-

Brian O'Connor leaned against a column in front of the baggage claim at Los Angeles International Airport, arms crossed over his chest, a bored look gracing his features as he scanned the passing faces.

Three weeks ago, he and Rome had gone their separate ways, splitting the money they'd scammed from the FBI and swearing to keep in touch. Rome was on his way to Mexico, planning to spend a few years across the border finding himself a nice senorita. Brian, unable to think of any other place he'd rather be, had returned to L.A.

It had been six months since Race Wars. Word had it that insufficient evidence had put the Toretto Team in the clear, and they'd picked up right where they'd left off; dominating the streets of Southern California. And that's right where Brian intended to be.

This time, however, he had a little baggage. His little sister had gotten herself into some shit, and their well-meaning but often clueless father had called Brian in a panic. "Can you keep her? Just for a few months, until she can live on her own. Could you make sure she stays out of trouble? You're the only one who can keep her safe right now," Jimmy said, and Brian agreed. Lindsey had a knack for getting herself in sticky situations, and this was no different. She needed to lay low with him until things blew over this time.

It was gonna be tough, however. Lindsey didn't take directions well, and she'd resented him since he left home after their mom died. Their relationship… sucked, for lack of better terms. The next few months were gonna be an adventure.

Brian's thoughts were jarred as he caught sight of a familiar face in the crowd of people. Lindsey, dressed in a pair of low-riding jeans and a black camisole, was gracefully skirting through the crowd, a large tote bag and suitcase in tow.

"Linds!" he called out over the bustling noise of the airport. She looked up, spotting him immediately, and walked over casually.

"Hey," she said nonchalantly.

"Hey," he returned, grinning at her indifference. "How was your flight?"

She shrugged. "Short," she said simply, running a hand through her straight, dark blonde hair. "How was your wait?"

"Long," he replied with a smile. She laughed lightly, rolling her eyes. "Your shit got to the apartment yesterday. I put the boxes in your room," he continued, grabbing the suitcase and starting to walk toward the exit.

"That's cool," she replied with a nod.

"Yeah," he agreed. "I registered you at the closest high school yesterday. You get to take the rest of the week off and start on Monday."

She winced. "Oh, fun," she commented sarcastically.

He chuckled, holding the glass door to the parking garage open for her. "It won't be that bad. You're a senior, and it's pretty laid back out here."

"Yeah, I guess," she replied, unconvinced, as she walked through. "How am I getting there?"

"To school?" he asked, following her and leading the way to his car. She nodded slowly, and he looked thoughtful, as if he hadn't considered the problem. "Um… We'll figure something out," he answered, stopping and pulling out his keys.

"That sounds promising," she drawled, rolling her eyes. Suddenly, she let out a sound of disbelief. "Is that your car?"

"What's with the tone of surprise?" Brian questioned, popping the trunk of a red-orange '69 Yenko Camaro.

She grinned. "It's actually in one piece," she teased lightly, stuffing her bag in with the subs.

"Oh ha ha," he responded. "Says the girl who totaled her car less than a week ago."

"And it's a muscle car," she added suspiciously, ignoring his comment completely. "Not really your thing."

He smiled. "No, it's not. That's why I'm probably gonna get rid of it pretty soon," he said secretively. "Now get in the car."

-X-

Brian's apartment surprised Lindsey. It was located on the top floor of a nice building, complete with a pool, landscaping, and plenty of parking spots. The door opened directly into the living room, where he'd set up a nice-sized TV, complete with DVD, an XBOX, and surround sound, of course. Boys didn't play when it came to their entertainment systems. There was also a nice black leather couch and a chair, a coffee table, and a lamp. The small kitchen was on the other side of the room, with a little table and four chairs. There was plenty of room for improvement, of course, but it wasn't completely unfortunate.

Brian's room was on the right side of living room, next to the bathroom. Lindsey's was on the left. Surprisingly, he'd given her the master room with a private bath, so they "wouldn't have to fight for the bathroom," he'd explained. She had a big, queen sized bed, a nightstand, a chest of drawers, a TV, and a walk-in closet. All-in-all, she deduced that living in the apartment wouldn't be too bad; she'd rarely have to come out of her room.

Later that evening, as she was unpacking her clothes from the boxes stacked in the middle of the room, Brian knocked on the door. She stood up and opened it, raising a brow. "What's up?"

"Just wonderin' if you wanted to grab something to eat?" he asked, shrugging.

She glanced at her cell, which read 8:45pm. Her stomach growled as she realized how hungry she was, and he laughed. "Oh, shut up. And yeah, I'm starving, let's go!"

"Alright," he agreed, grabbing his keys off the table and promptly dropping them as his phone rang. "Son of a bitch…"

Lindsey opened the door, laughing as she watched him pick his keys up over her shoulder. She turned around at the last minute, gasping as she stopped only centimeters away from a very solid body standing in the middle of the hall. "Shit!" she exclaimed.

The guy had his back to her, unlocking the door to the apartment across the hall. Unfortunately, the hallway was very narrow, and Lindsey had almost run into him.

"You okay?" the roadblock asked in quiet, deep tone, turning around to look at her. He had the faintest hint of an accent…

Lindsey looked up at her victim and felt her heart jump into her throat. He was gorgeous. Tall, dark, and Asian, with long, silky dark hair and black eyes. He was smirking down at her, and after a second she realized he was waiting for an answer to his question.

"Oh, I'm fine," she replied, struggling to remain casual. "You just caught me off guard."

He nodded. "My bad," he responded, looking at her closely.

Brian chose that moment to throw the door to their apartment open, hastily entering the hallway and closing it noisily behind him. Noticing the third party, a friendly grin crossed his face. "Hey man."

"Ay, Brian, whatchu done?" the sexy guy asked warmly, lifting his chin up slightly. Lindsey kept her face expressionless, but felt her stomach react to his voice in a very pleasant way.

"Nothin' much, forreal. This is my little sister, Lindsey. She's gonna be living here for a while," Brian explained. "Linds, this is Han. He lives across the hall."

"Yeah, I gathered that," she replied sarcastically. She could have sworn that the corners of Han's mouth twitched, but a second look at his stoic expression discredited her suspicion. Focusing on him, she lost the attitude. "It's nice to meet you," she said sincerely. Because you are so damn fine, she added silently.

He nodded. "You too," he responded. "Sorry bout livin' with him, though," he apologized, smirking and tilting his head in Brian's direction.

She laughed, and Brian rolled his eyes. "Whatever. We're going to get some food, so I guess we'll see you around, dude," Brian nodded, starting off down the hall.

Lindsey glanced at Han once more, sending him a flirty grin. "Bye," she added softly, following after her brother. "Hey, Brian! Slow your ass down. McDonalds will still be there in five minutes, you know…" she continued as she rounded the corner to go downstairs.

Han turned back to unlock his door, chuckling to himself at Brian's sister's antics. She seemed pretty entertaining. And she's gorgeous, even if she is young, he thought, recalling her vibrant blue eyes and dazzling smile.

Opening the door to his apartment, he pushed all thoughts of women out of his mind. After all, there were a couple dozen waiting for him at the races that night.

-X-

In an estate in Beverly Hills, a tall, powerful looking man with graying hair was seated at a patio table at his poolside, smoking a cigar and looking very grim. His loose white button down shirt billowed lightly in the breeze, and his silver Cartier watch glittered in the bright sunlight. His coal black eyes were pinned on the man across the table in a piercing stare.

"What are you trying to tell me, Mr. Gaines?" the man asked quietly.

The other man, a scruffy, tattooed guy of Cuban descent, shrugged. "The girl's gone. The word around the high school is that her dad made a bargain with the police, you know, like she wouldn't get in trouble as long as she wasn't around anymore," Gaines explained. "I think the cops got her out of town because they're afraid Johnny's gonna try to get to her. He's pissed off, because he wants the money he says she owes him."

"Johnny should no longer be on my payroll," the older man said coldly.

"I know," Gaines replied instantly. "And I'm gonna take care of him, as soon as he gets me the money he lost us, Mr. Kale."

"That would be in your best interest, yes," Mr. Kale agreed. "I'm also leaving it up to you to make sure these runners aren't still involved in street racing. Finding them there is fine; they are fast, and they usually have no problem breaking the law. However, if they continue racing when they are still making a run, they're risking my product. They get caught with the drugs, and I lose my money," he finished.

"Exactly," Gaines agreed. "I've told them all, time and time again, not to race on the clock."

Kale looked at him again, his expression cool. "I don't pay you to pass along messages, Gaines, I pay you to be sure they are taken seriously."

Gaines swallowed. "I understand, sir," he replied nervously.

"Perhaps," Kale said thoughtfully. "You should locate this girl for Johnny. I'd like my money soon, so we can dispose of him. He's a liability."

"I can do that," Gaines agreed. "I've heard she's here in L.A."

"Fascinating," Kale murmured, drawing from his cigar again.

"I thought so. It's only a matter of time before she winds up at the races," Gaines shrugged. "And I'll be there waiting for her."

-X-

Author's Note: Reviews are definitely appreciated. If I don't think a lot of people are reading I get discouraged!
And the next chapter will have more insight to Lindsey's character and attitude, and more Han! Since he was only present for a minute in this chapter I kind of felt like he got robbed. But I'll make it up to you all next time.