Between Family and Friends

-(_)-

Shielding his eyes from the bright Miami sun, the young man smiled at the sight of a couple of babes walking by him wearing nothing but bikini suits that barely covered their bodies. His smile grew wider when they turned to look at him once they had passed, whispering and giggling like schoolgirls. Letting them go on their way, he keyed the long since conned i-pod to a loud tune that he was sure that if he was to see the music video, there would be many scantily dressed woman dancing around in the background.

It took him the better part of an hour to get to his destination-taking the long way to get there by foot so that he could spot if he had a tail, and he smiled at the older man looking out the front window as he turned in. He walked down the rows until he came to the one he wanted. Searching the numbers took only seconds and he unlocked the large storage unit in front of him. Once the sliding door had been completely opened, he sighed, happy to know that what lay inside hadn't been disturbed since he had last been here. Taking a step in, he ran his hand over gleaming metal, letting adrenaline flood his system as he took in the sight of the beast within.

She was a sleek four wheeled design. The Mitsubishi Eclipse GTS Spyder was painted the darkest of blacks highlighted with silver and electric blue in a simple yet beautiful design. He had shipped her here a year ago after getting her from her original European owner. The bags he had long ago placed in the back seat were still there, and he opened each one to take inventory. His clothes were in great condition, if a little musty smelling-he would need to get more and give these to the nearest shelter-and the other two bags contained all the money he needed for the upcoming week. A quick count confirmed that he had all of his fifty large, more than enough for what he would need it for. He located the keys-still in a magnetic box in the wheel well-and turned the engine over, listening to the growling sound as it eased away all of his troubles.

Sliding behind the wheel, Templeton Peck grinned like a maniac. The racers of Miami would do well to be scared-the Conman was back in the game.

-(_)-

The whisperings didn't really start flying until that night, though there had been murmurs here and there. The veterans of illegal racing, having heard about the new car on the streets, refused to even race that upcoming Friday. They had been around long enough to know whose car it was, and that its driver could bleed them dry. They had tried to pass on the word to the younger generation, but most of them refused to listen, wanting to prove how good they were, if only to get a good fuck for the night.

Word hadn't yet spread through the entire city, so it was no surprise when the dark skinned young man literally jumped in surprise when he saw the car pull into the garage's parking lot. Eyeing the car-he had been given the same make and model for a brief undercover stint in order to clear his personal record-he admired the coloring and design, watching as the driver's side door opened. Now, Roman Pearce wasn't a coward by definition; he had enough smarts to know that if there was a fight with the driver of the black Spyder, he had better not bet on the other guy. There wasn't a lot of muscle on the man, and he certainly didn't look dangerous, but there was a vibe around him, and it told of a long, hard story and that violence would be an option if he was crossed in the wrong way.

"How can I help you?" he asked the other man.

"I need a tune up. I haven't used her much at all in the last year and she needs it," the man spoke in a neutral tone with a slight hint of a west coast accent, possibly from the plains or from somewhere in between.

Pearce, or Rome to his friends, eyed the stranger. It was like he was expecting the bogeyman to jump out at yell "boo!" at any second, judging by the way his baby blue eyes kept jumping around. Then he caught sight of a partially hidden tattoo on his arm, and he instantly recognized it for what it was. This customer was an Army Ranger, and he had seen enough action to leave him haunted and battle scarred.

"That we can do," he replied, watching as a bit of tension left the Ranger's shoulders. Turning, he beckoned the man and his car inside, and when the driver got out of the car for a second time, his question caught Rome by surprise.

"Can you make sure she's done for Friday night?" Ranger, as Rome's mind automatically called him, asked.

"Is there anything big going on that night?" Rome returned, handing over a couple of pages of paperwork that needed signatures. He knew what was happening Friday night-it was the weekend and therefore the start of street racing.

"I think you know about the racing," grinning, the stranger watched Rome's reactions and held out a hand before signing the forms that he had been handed. "People around here know me as the Conman, though I haven't been around much."

"Roman Pearce. A friend and I own this garage," his hand gestured vaguely around him with the returned papers, noting the name that had been signed. Who the hell named their kid "Templeton Peck?"

Face took a quick look around. "I like it-simple and yet you have enough room for multiple cars," he said.

The sound of a door slamming open and shut echoed loudly in the garage. Booted feet thumped on the concrete floor, growing nearer, followed by a crash and a vivid curse in a somewhat familiar voice.

"It's my business partner-he always gets in around this time. He loves to sleep in, especially when we get closer to the week-end," Rome told his latest customer. "Dude, get your ass out here, we got company!"

"If it's Suki, tell her to forget about me throwing away that picture-it's great blackmail material," another man's voice spoke up from the back of the room. Amongst the shuffling, the sloshing of coffee being poured into a cup could be heard, and then the ripping of several sugar packets.

"It ain't Suki, bro. It's some guy who calls himself the Conman," Rome yelled back. "Fucking sugar addict."

"Sounds like you got one hell of a problem," Face smiled as he leaned up against the counter, glad to find out that the first garage he had stopped at had people with a decent sense of humour.

"Yeah, we do. Don't get me wrong, okay. The guy can drive like no one's business, but he has this problem with eating too much sugar, or anything that has too much sugar in the ingredients. The way he eats chocolate, you'd think he was a woman going through PMS," laughing, Pearce managed to duck the flying car manual that had been chucked at his head with inches to spare.

"Fuck you, Rome," the third man said as he appeared from behind a raised Nissan, a pan collecting the dripping oil. He clutched a cup of coffee like it was a lifeline, and he looked a little pale, despite the tan that coloured his skin.

Face did a double take at the sight, recognizing who Rome's business partner was. "Brian O'Conner. So this is where you ended up after that month in the 'Stan?" he accepted the manly hug and ruffled the other man's blond hair.

"Hey, el-tee," the man who had been identified as Brian O'Conner took a gulp from his cup and looked over the black beauty standing behind the Ranger after giving the man a hug. "Is she yours?"

"Yeah, she is. I need her tuned up for Friday. I would have done it, but I don't have all the things I need, and this is the first place I stopped at," Face jingled his keys. "I also need things like a couple tanks of Nitrous and shit."

"Let's get started, then, shall we?" Brian drove the car up to one of the many empty spots in the room and then the trio got to work, filling Rome in on how the two had met what seemed like lifetimes ago.

It had happened a couple of months before the offer had been made to Rome and Brian to clear their records. At that time, Brian had been kicked off LAPD for nearly a year and in prison for nearly eleven months before some Army Intelligence guys had approached him with the offer of being shipped overseas for a minimum of thirty days in order to act as a translator-he was quite fluent in Arabic and Farsi, among other more obscure Middle Eastern dialects, as he studied them for fun and for a challenge-since they needed more people who were able to speak the local languages. Brian agreed and was shipped off in the next week after going through a quick course to find out how good his language skills were and how fit he was.

The first five weeks he was in the desert had been relatively easy, with just a few disputes among the locals to settle. On his sixth week there, things started to heat up. Sections of al-Qaeda began to get bolder and a couple of their men attacked the base where Brian had been posted. During that week, there had been word of another dispute on one of their travels, and Brian had been selected to go along with the troops and help keep the peace. They had been attacked on their way to one of the closest villages-a roadside bomb had exploded, knocking the hummer around like a toy. As both factions exchanged shots, a small group of men had snuck up on the survivors of the convoy and had taken them hostage.

The following days were rough. Many American soldiers had died from infections or executions before rescue teams came to their aid. Face had been one of the first to go into the tent that stood in the middle of the compound and had nearly tossed his cookies at the sight. Brian had been strung up like a marionette, thick chains holding his limbs in positions assured to keep them dislocated as he struggled to get away from the pain that had been inflicted on him. The next few moments were blurry to both of them; Brian from the infection and fever he was trying to fight off and Face from blanking them out-he had seen red and had attacked the former cop's tormentors, and the only clear memory of that tent that he could recall was when his team had physically restrained him somehow from castrating the last man left standing as he guarded Brian.

They had been officially introduced once Brain was out of ICU and off of the morphine that kept him loopy. The two had remained steady friends and kept in touch over the months, though they hadn't spoken much since the end of the Braga investigation.

"So, let me get this straight. You were stationed in a warzone for more than a month, and you were captured, tortured and then rescued. And then coming back here, you jumped into racing scene, got hooked up with the feds, cleared both our records and then we stole money from Miami's biggest kingpin. Anything I left out?" Rome clarified, nibbling on a granola bar as it was the only thing he could get his hands on at the time.

"I think that you got it all, man," Brian replied as he tightened a nut, listening to the sound of the engine as Face revved it up. "She sounds better, Face. Come back tomorrow and we'll finish her up. I'll talk to Tej and see about getting you some competition for Friday."

As Face drove away from the garage, Rome turned to his friend, the man's dark skin contrasting against the former cop's as he laid a hand on his shoulder. "I didn't know what had happened to you before you got us cleared, man. I knew that something bad had happened, but what you just told me never crossed my mind. If you ever need someone to talk to…" he trailed off, knowing that Brian would be able to fill in the blanks.

"Yeah, I know that I can talk to you, bro, but I kind of got over it a while ago. Still, if I ever fall back into that depressing spiral, you'll be the first to know; I'll be screaming murder at your ugly mug," Brian said, repressing some of the most disturbing memories from his time as a captive. Sometimes, it only took seeing someone's skin color to set him off, bringing flashes of memories before his eyes.

"Okay, now I declare the rest of this night to be free from chick-flick moments. How does a cold one and Chinese sound?" Rome asked, his mind turning away from the dark thoughts to his stomach.

"You and your damned metabolism," laughing, Brian sauntered over to the phone and placed an order to the closest restaurant that offered fast deliveries and great prices. It helped that the food wasn't too bad either.

-(_)-

The cold burn of steel slicing through his skin made him cry out in pain. Struggling weakly, he tried to arc away from his tormentors, but the thick chains that kept him in place threatened to dislocated his limbs if he struggled to move. Locked in such an agonising position, he used his knowledge of Farsi to ask what they wanted. Instead of being answered, they gagged him with a strip from his own shirt and punished him by driving the blade deep into his side. The resulting pain made him struggle all the more and he screamed as he felt a shoulder and a leg pop out of their sockets. A couple more wounds later and he was starting to have trouble keeping focus from blood loss, and every time he moved, his diminishing eyesight would turn white from the pain from the knife inflicted wounds and dislocated limbs.

A dark face suddenly loomed in front of him, hot breaths making him cringe away in disgust, and he wasn't afraid to admit it, fear. Dirty teeth were exposed as the unknown male smiled wickedly, lips stretching horribly over a too thin face, his long, bony fingers digging into one of the freely bleeding cuts. As the digits twisted just right, he found himself screaming and screaming, twisting to get away…

-(_)-

And he fell to the ground. Panting harshly, Brian realized that he had company as he tried to push his face into the carpet. A cool cloth was draped over his heated body, bringing his temperature down and hiding the horrible scarring from his time in captivity. It took him minutes before he could even think about getting up without getting dizzy or feeling violently ill at the thought of standing. Struggling, he accepted the hand that appeared before him, identifying the arm as belonging to Tej.

"Jesus, man. I thought someone was murdering you by the way you were screaming," Tej said as he helped Brian back onto the bed. He had seen the scars that littered the other man's body and he knew that he had seen some bad shit in his life. "We could here you clear to the garage." Seeing as the garage was just a couple dozen of feet away from the boat house testified to just how loud Brian had been, given the fact that the shop had concrete walls and that there had been music playing.

Brian averted his eyes, ashamed that someone had seen him during one of his most vulnerable moments. He was ushered off to the shower and when he returned thirty minutes later, his bed sheets had been changed and a bottle of Tylenol was sitting next to a large glass of water. Tej was gone and Rome was using his laptop, surfing the internet.

"You are to take some of those pills and rest up for the rest of the day. We need you fresh for tomorrow night. I'll talk to your Conman friend and to Tej. We'll take care of everything else," the black man said, clicking the portable computer closed and setting it on the table. "I'm sorry for pressuring you into telling me what had happened to you, man."

Now Brian knew that Rome really felt bad about his newfound knowledge. It wasn't very often that he apologized. "It's not your fault. I'm sure that my nightmares would have surfaced at any time. I sometimes get random flashbacks when I see something of significance, like heavy duty chains. They remind me of the pain," Brian explained, crawling into bed and snuggling under one of the lightweight sheets. He hated the way his nightmares made him feel after waking up; tired and sluggish and the sense that he was being watched. "I never did tell you everything that happened in that tent, Rome, and I never will. There are some things that are too personal to share with others."

Nodding, Rome bid the other man a good sleep and walked away, his heart heavy. He had accused the man of being the cause behind his previous record before accepting responsibility for his actions, and now he felt helpless. What could he do to help Brian through the tough times that were bound to pop up every now and then? And what did he mean by that "There are some things that are too personal to share with others?" It indicated that something even worse had occurred to him in that damned tent, and that he was either too ashamed or too scared to tell someone else. Suddenly glad that he had bought a punching bag on impulse one day, he taped his hands up and gave himself a hard workout, feeling his anger seep out of his body with his sweat. He nearly punched the person who touched him, breaking his rhythm, but he caught himself just in time, a fist hovering in front of a semi-familiar face.

"What happened?" Face asked, trusting his instinct that told him that something had come to pass in the last little while, judging by the way that Rome was pounding away on the punching bag.

"Sorry, man. I needed to cool off before I headed into the garage," Rome jerked his thumb at the punching bag, giving an obvious explanation as to what he was doing, but not the cause. "Brian had a nightmare earlier. We could hear him clear to the garage over the music and tools. He kind of hinted that something else happened in that tent before you found him, but he won't speak up."

Face nodded. He had expected it considering how much they had spoken of the incident yesterday. "Come on, man. Let's get to work and go get him later for food," he said, noting at how Rome brightened at the mention of getting something to eat. "So, who do I have to talk to in order to get some racing done around here?"

"That would be Tej. He takes care of all the betting and organises everything. The man is crazy good with money and people," as Rome explained everything about the "home team", Face grinned excitedly, the smile making him seem years younger than he claimed to be. He was going to get some sweet action!

Tej Parker was more than happy to organize a couple of races for an old friend of Brian's, accumulating a total of six racers who were dumb enough to go against the Conman. They even made arrangements for a barbeque on Sunday with Face agreeing to provide the meat and the chef, knowing that H.M. Murdock would love to show off his unique culinary talents. He just had to remember to alert the police about the small explosions that would occur and to buy a few boxes of shotgun shells.

Excusing himself, Face found a telephone and made a call to the local military barracks where Murdock was staying for their stateside leave. Next time they were on leave, he decided, the crazy pilot was coming with him. Once he was put through, he asked if the man had no plans for the weekend, and was glad to hear that nothing was planned. Instead, Murdock would now be staying with Face for the duration of their leave, and enjoying his time cooking and causing general mayhem and driving people crazy. Face was certain that he would be able to keep Brian from thinking about the thrice damned tent in the 'Stan and keep his thoughts in the here and now. Of course, knowing the two as well as he did, he wouldn't be surprised if they started speaking in Pashtu just to confuse everyone around them.

Hours later, and while they waited for another food delivery, Face walked into the house boat, noting the drawn curtains and the gloomy atmosphere. He could barely make out the figure curled up on the bad as it shivered. He reached over with a hand to give the other man a shake on the shoulder, but he pulled back. There was no telling how Brian would react if he grabbed him in such a state. Instead, he settled for calling out the man's name until he got an answer. It took him about ten minutes before he got any sort of response; Brian's shifting alerting him to his wakeful state.

"Hey, I heard that things didn't work out well for you this morning," Face softly spoke up, taking a seat on a nearby chair, leaning forward so that he didn't have to speak so loud. "Do you need to talk about it?"

"No, I don't. I just need to have a couple of races before I close that door again," Brian muttered sleepily, turning his head so that his voice wasn't muffled by the pillow or the sheet that almost obscured his face. "You got things set for tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I got six people against me. I should be able to get a great return, depending on the buy in," Face grinned wildly. "I organized a barbeque Sunday with a friend of mine. Do you remember Murdock?" At Brian's chuckle, Face was sure that the ex-cop knew of the man he was talking about. It was hard not to remember the pilot. When their first and only brief introduction came around, Murdock was running through the infirmary tent, yelling about vegetables and ritual suicide while a large black man chased him with what looked like mashed potatoes on his face. It brightened up Brian's mood for the rest of the day, and every time he needed a mental lift, he thought of the eccentric pilot and the stories his random appearances throughout the base. "He has agreed to cook for us, but I have to inform the cops about the explosions that'll come. Murdock's a little creative when it comes to cooking. The guy can make any MRE taste like it came from a five star restaurant."

"He's got to be one hell of a cook since all MREs taste like cardboard," Brian said, grimacing as he remembered the horrible taste of the small packages of food. He could never get used to eating them whenever he was off of the base, but he forced them down so that he wouldn't lose any more weight than what he had lost during his months in prison. He frowned as he recalled the haunted look that sometimes passed through Dominic Toretto's eyes when he fell silent, and now he knew what he felt like. It had been hard for him on the inside, especially when word got around that he had been a cop, and he had spent most of the time either in the infirmary or in solitary where the guards had deemed it mostly safe, though that hadn't stopped a record seventeen attempts on his life, one successful stabbing and one near gang rape.

Face made a critical decision on the spot. "Get dressed, O'Conner. After we eat, you and I are taking a drive to the base and picking Murdock up, and then we will be getting some stuff for Sunday, and I need new clothes. Mine have been sitting in my car for nearly a year and they don't smell all that good," he said. He ignored the other man's grumbling and ushered him to get dressed and to brush his teeth. It didn't do him any good if stayed in bed and tried to sleep away the nightmares that plagued him; he needed to get out of his personal solitary confinement and out into the public where he could assure himself that he wasn't still in the Middle East.

Tej and a young woman of Japanese descent were laughing at Rome as he brought a large pile of take-out to the outdoor table, doing his best to not spill anything. The woman, who later introduced herself as Suki, brushed back her blond dyed hair over her shoulder and grabbed a couple of the cartons, lightening Rome's load and allowing him to see where he was going and assuring him that he wouldn't bump into anything. Joining them, Face grabbed a Corona, and shrugged off the responding boos about the choice of his brew. He really didn't care what kind of beer he drank as long as it had alcohol. He had smuggled a couple of six packs over to the barracks for select people, but he hadn't taken a drink for a while, especially while he was on active duty, knowing better than to divulge in case there was an attack.

Brian also grabbed a Corona but for completely different reasons than the lieutenant. It reminded him of a group of people that he had been a part of, however briefly, and that told him that they were a true family, despite what they did on the side. He ate what was placed in front of him without complaint, trying to hide his paranoia from the others. They really didn't need to know all of what had happened to him in that tent; let them live without the fear that came from living through such atrocities that were committed on one person by another because of their different religions. Instead, he let himself sink into the familial atmosphere as he took a sip from his beer, smiling on the outside.

-(_)-

It took the two men probably an hour to get to the base, noting the jumpy looks of the guards as they pulled up. When Face asked what was wrong, they had been told that one of their visitors had been up to no good, pestering everyone that he could with questions until some of them had neared their snapping point.

"That sounds a lot like Murdock," Face mumbled as Brian snickered at the sight of said pilot beating a hasty retreat from the mess hall where a man came out covered head to toe in what looked to be a flour and water mixture. The ex-cop burst into full gales of laughter when some of the mixture dripped from the man's nose, prompting Murdock to tell the man that he had better see the doctor about the apparent cold he had. A strained scream followed the comment before the man turned to leave and head back inside and slipping on the puddle that had dripped to the floor.

Giggling, Murdock slipped into the backseat of the car and continued to laugh until they reached the barracks where he was staying. There, he went inside and grabbed his bags, stuffing them into the trunk, listening to the sound as someone was splattered with paint coming from a cleverly constructed trap. It took him a bit to sober up, but when he did, he answered everything that Face asked him about what he had done on the base, almost regretting it when he heard the long list that included stealing the base commander's computer and, oddly enough, his trash can and tissue box.

"I don't know if he'll be a hit with the others or if he'll be a hindrance," Brian snickered, glad that Face had made him come. Since picking the pilot up, he really hadn't stopped smiling or laughing.

The trio made a quick stop at the local police station and told them about the "fireworks" that they would be shooting off Sunday so that there would be beforehand warnings before stopping at the supermarket and gun shop to get the steaks and shotgun shells, knowing from past experience that it wouldn't get done that weekend, especially with the races and other things they would be doing.

Drifting off in a doze, Brian missed the quiet conversation that the other two men held as they drove back to the garage. He never did see the sad look Murdock aimed at him as he was reminded who he was.

"So, what are we doing down here, Face?" Murdock asked, doing his best to ignore what he remembered about that particular mission. The imagery that his mind conjured up about whatever happened to the man wasn't at all pleasant, and it gave him the chills.

As Face answered, they pulled up outside the garage and roped Rome into helping them get Brian out of the car and into his bed. Once again, introductions were made and then Tej pulled Murdock aside when he learned of the pilot's ability to make semi-passable predictions. The rest of the group went to work tuning up their rides for the night, including Brian's Nissan Skyline-he had recovered the car from the cops, passing the expensive repair bill onto them for ruining the vehicle in the first place. They were just finishing up when the former cop joined them, stumbling over nothing in his half aware state in his search for coffee and the sugar packets.

"Christ, it's a miracle that he even still has his teeth," Face said, disgusted. How could a man put in eleven packets of sugar in a cup of coffee and not even feel the effects or even become hyper? It made him insanely jealous for no reason, and he watched as Brian stumbled over to the chairs set out just for occasions like this where either a customer or one of the mechanics could sit down and watch.

"Hey, Bullet! Did you have a good nap?" Suki asked, using the man's street name as she often did.

"It could have been better, but give me a couple more cups like this and I'll be ready for the races," Brain replied, raising his cup as an indication of what he currently wanted. He knew that the others would severely limit his intake that evening so that he didn't look so twitchy as if he was running on meth or some other drug like speed, which he knew to be a deadly combination when mixed with fast cars. He also knew that they would force food on him, despite the fact that he really hated eating before hopping into a car on race night.

"Brian, go show Murdock where the grill is," Face suddenly spoke up, catching the sidelong glances that the pilot was shooting him. No one had noticed their silent communication and he understood what the man wanted, despite the fact that he bordered on the insane side of the world more often than not. Understanding the pilot came from years of trusting him in a combat zone, and praying that he wouldn't crash the helicopter while performing some stunt to get them away from their enemies overseas.

Wriggling, Murdock followed Brian out back, speaking to an invisible being that he named Billy. When Brian asked who he was, he was told that Billy was a dog that had since accompanied the team on missions, though he was the only one to see him. Nodding, Brian accepted the man's reality for what it was-it was the pilot's subconscious personality that spoke to him in an odd manner and told him that he wasn't crazy or insane, just that he saw things in a much different fashion than anyone else, including seeing things that other people didn't see, like a short haired Schnauzer named Billy.

"What were you doing when I first saw you in the infirmary tent?" Brian asked, heading out of the back door and into the warm Miami sun. "You came running in shouting things about suicide and vegetables and there was a black man chasing you and he had mashed potatoes on his face."

Murdock grinned happily as if it was the single most important thing in the world. "That day, all the vegetables just decided to die. I helped them get there-however sad it was-and they ended up hitting the command tent and some of the M.P.s. They never did find out what had happened. Sergeant Bosco "B.A." Baracus-that's the big ugly mud sucker you saw-intercepted one of the suicides and then the mashed potatoes told him who had launched the bowl," Murdock actually pouted at the idea of the potatoes' betrayal, complete with crossed arms. "Our majestic leader, one Colonel Hannibal Smith, stopped him from introducing his fist to me on a personal level, I might add."

"Sounds like it had been a busy day," Brian remarked, pointing out the grill and noting that there were a couple other things sitting there, ready for Sunday. Sitting beside the box of shotgun shells-and what was the pilot going to do with shells, Brain wondered-was an apron with the words "Kiss the cook", complete with a large imprint of smooching lips and an oven mitt in the shape of a pig. "I see that you'll be ready for the cookout, though I don't know what you're doing with the shells."

"Oh, I will. Wait until you see my technique. You'll love it," Murdock was back to being happy, completely forgetting about the incident in the infirmary tent, and it seemed that he forgave the potatoes for their transgression.

"I hear that you can work miracles with MREs. Is that true?" Brian asked, his eyes lightening at the sight of the exuberant pilot.

"You haven't seen anything yet," Murdock said. He then switched languages, describing what he had done in the past to the horrible packages of food in order to make them taste so much better.

The racers watched the two walk back in, speaking in a language that none of them had ever heard before, except for one man, and they certainly didn't speak it.

"Yeah, did I forget to mention that they'll probably spend the time talking to each other in Farsi or some other obscure dialect?" Face commented, rubbing the back of his neck in an embarrassed gesture.

"No, man, you didn't tell us that. I thought for a moment that I had hit my head on the car and was imagining all of this," Tej muttered, glancing at the clock. The time had flown by, and the sun was just setting. "Okay, the race starts in six hours, around midnight. We're starting a few blocks from the warehouse district this time. Conman, keep up with those two. They'll get you to the sight safe and mostly sound."

"Thanks for the action, man," Face gripped the other man's hand in appreciation when it was offered. "What's the buy in, anyways?"

"I didn't cover that with you, didn't I? Buy in's three grand, but sometimes it goes up. Brian here upped it a whole nickel and won it, even though I had put in a little surprise just for him," Tej answered, smiling at the memory.

"Man, you raised a drawbridge on me without any warning!" Brian called out from where he was standing with Murdock, breaking their conversation that had since switched to another dialect.

"And as I recall, you cleared it, using your nitrous system to jump that gap," Tej retorted, remembering the memory as if it had happened yesterday. "I don't have any surprises planned for this week-end, I promise." He said, catching the look that the former cop was giving him, holding up two fingers in a Boy Scout salute.

"I'm pretty sure you were never in the Scouts, man," Brian said, dodging the mock punch that was sent his way. He returned the mock blow with his own fist, cutting the power that would normally be behind it

"Okay, boys, save the testosterone for tonight," Suki decided to interfere, earning herself a smack on the ass. She shrieked in glee when Tej pulled her over his shoulder, giving her boyfriend a kiss when he swung her back down to plant her feet on good, solid terra firma. "I got to go get ready. I'm racing Rome tonight, and I plan on kicking his ass and taking his money."

As more playful bickering erupted, Face grabbed a bag filled with his new purchases and went to change clothes, pulling on a combination that matched him perfectly, and consisted of a dress shirt, a pair of stylishly ripped jeans and he made sure that his dog tags were hidden by the material of his shirt so that no one would see them. He slipped on a St. Christopher medal and with it, a small silver band on his right pinkie finger, and jammed his feet into a pair of comfortable sneakers. Hannibal and B.A. wouldn't recognize him in such a get up-they usually saw him wearing camouflage or more expensive suits.

It was unusually quiet in the garage when he finished and he found Murdock sitting on a chair on the deck of the house boat, staring out at the evening sun. He found out that everyone had split to prepare for the races, and he explained to the pilot what they were doing. There was no rebuke from the man most considered nuts, and that meant that Murdock knew that Face knew that what he was doing was dangerous, but he wasn't going to stand in his way, and besides, he got to have fun cooking in a couple of days. He couldn't wait to see everyone's reactions to his food and cooking process.

Minutes after finishing explaining to Murdock about the races they would be attending for two nights, Brian came out of his place dressed in a simple white T-shirt and black jeans. He wasn't one for dolling himself up for a race, unlike some of the others who dressed up just to show off. He offered to take the two men out to eat and they all settled on a local joint that served more than just burgers.

When it got close to midnight, they met up with Rome and drove off to the race party, admiring the local women who wandered by wearing almost next to nothing when they got there and what they wore wouldn't overheat their bodies in the Miami night. Loud music blasted from several different car stereo systems, some that must have cost a couple hundred pretty pennies. Groupies milled about, looking at some of the cars in awe, and many scattered when the three cars pulled up next to Suki's new silver and green late nineties Ford Mustang. People surged up, exchanging high fives with Bullet and his dark skinned friend. They were wary of Face and Murdock, though, having never seen the two before. What they could see, though, was the friendship that had formed between Face and Brian, and they were quick to respect it, especially when the man shook hands with Suki and commented on the paintjob her ride sported.

Tej quickly called the first group over to the start line, collecting the buy ins while one of his men kept an ear on the police scanner, throwing a thumbs up when the streets were blocked off and again when they were in the all clear.

Rome and Suki were among the first to race, though it was only those two at the starting line, and they finished dead even, leaving the crowd murmuring in respect to both drivers. Suki pouted as she was given back her buy in while Rome grinned like he was the one to have eaten the canary from the old saying.

Brian won his race with ease, having fun blowing away his competition, most of who were still trying to get their money back. Tej had kept his promise had hadn't sprung any surprises this time around, which was a relief because he probably would have fucked it up if he had done something that would have caused another flashback, and he was starting to get sick and tired of them already.

"All right, all right!" Tej called out, raising his voice to be heard over the excited fans and groupies who were milling around. "I have a new player for you tonight. Meet the Conman. This guy will take your money, your car, your girl and all of your clothes if you aren't careful around him."

Face drove up to the start line, taking in the sight of his competition-a neon yellow sixties Camaro, a black Audi and a cherry red Challenger with black and white racing stripes. Their engine growls told him that they had modified the cars, but that they probably didn't put enough in them to count them a win. It would be like taking candy from a baby.

Tej pointed at the car farthest from him-the Audi-and asked if the driver was ready. The answering growl gave him his answer. Every driver responded by revving their engine and then a young woman wearing short shorts and a bikini top dropped the start flag.

Face shifted the gearshift as soon as he could, pulling ahead easily. The other cars were three car lengths behind him, and he smiled as the familiar feeling of adrenaline flooded his system. It was a different feel from the adrenaline that pumped through him in a combat zone-that was for survival and this was just for fun-and he loved every second of it. Though that race wasn't that long, minutes at most, it felt as if he had only spent seconds in the driver's seat when he crossed the finish line, and it left him feeling empty. He collected his money and handed over a percentage to Tej, in thanks for finding him some competition.

"Cops!" a voice shouted, causing everyone to scatter. Murdock ran to the passenger side of Face's car, smiling as he stuffed his own winnings in his pocket. He had bet on his teammate with others from the crowd and he had made a nice stack of bills when Face had crossed the finish line with time to spare. As Face evaded the cops, he eyed the pilot from the corner of his eye.

"How much did you make?" he asked, jerking the wheel to make the upcoming turn, watching as the police unit following him failed to make the turn, crashing into a fire hydrant and unleashing a jet of water.

"Five hundred and eight dollars and twelve cents," Murdock replied, cackling when they were in the clear. "This was fun, Facey. Can we do it again sometime soon?"

"How does tomorrow night sound to you?" Face replied, pulling onto another street that led him into the suburbs of Miami. He laughed at Murdock's excited whoop and drove to the garage that Brian and Rome owned, parking in one of the few empty place available to them, seeing as a lot of the drivers from tonight's races had ended up there for a couple drinks. The after race party last until about four in the morning, and Face and Murdock crashed on a couple of cots in the upstairs loft of the garage.

-(_)-

Saturday was spent the same way as Friday afternoon, except that things were taken at a little more luxurious pace. Murdock leaned over Rome's shoulder, constantly comparing every piece of the car's engine to some of the helicopters and planes he had flown in the past. It annoyed the black man, but he took it in stride when Face explained what the man did for a living-which was getting them out of tight spots using whatever aerial vehicle he could get his hands on. He even went on to describe all of the crazy rides that they had been taken on, starting with the helicopter dog fight against Tuco that had happened in Mexico where the entire team had met for the first time.

Tej commented on how that maybe he would learn how to fly a little two-seater plane when Suki told him to forget it, and that he probably would just crash it the first time he ever got behind the yoke of one. That in turn lead to an argument of how he had crashed into a wall going well over a hundred miles an hour and how bad his driving got whenever he got nervous behind the wheel. Suki eventually ended the argument-as amusing as it was to the onlookers-stating that if he ever sat in the cockpit of a plane, she would make sure that he would go celibate and probably cut something precious of his off.

Brian seemed more relaxed than the day before, everyone noted when he walked inside to get his cup of coffee. On an impulse, Murdock had secretly changed the coffee to decaf and replaced all of the sugar packets with salt packets early that morning. There was no way to tell the two apart as they had the same design. The pilot sniggered as the man took a large gulp from the cup, spitting it out when he realized what was wrong with the brew. His tongue burned from the salt and he rushed to the tap to rinse his mouth and cup out.

"Okay, who changed the coffee and sugar?" he asked, eyeing everyone in the garage, zeroing in on Murdock as he collapsed against a support column, holding his ribs as he laughed.

"You should have seen your face!" he exclaimed between puffs of air and giggles, dissolving once more into an undignified heap as Brian spewed out word after word in a multi-language rant. When Brian had finished, Murdock had long since turned into a puddle of a crying, laughing pilot, complete with tears running down his face.

"Wow, I didn't know you had it in you," Face said, staring at the former cop. Though he didn't speak most of what the man had said, he was impressed with the length and how many languages he had used, especially when he caught a word here or there that he knew the meaning of.

"Dude, are you okay or what?" Rome asked. Everyone was staring in awe at the "white boy" as Rome sometimes called his childhood friend. They were amazed at being the first group to officially hear the man say so much at one time and not in English either.

Muttering under his breath, Brian headed off to find a proper cup of coffee. He knew that the others were aware that he wasn't really angry with them and he knew that it was to get a laugh and a smile out of him in order to snap him out of the funk he was feeling. He wasn't ashamed to admit that it had worked, but he still needed that coffee.

Grabbing his keys and his wallet from the small kitchen table on the boat house, he called out that he was leaving so that no one would worry too much about him. Ten minutes later, he was ordering a large cup of java at one of the many coffee shops before sitting in an empty booth, pouring his usual amount of sugar into the brew from the self-serve jar on the table. As he sat there, sipping the coffee, he found himself wondering how things would have turned out if the Torettos hadn't had to run, even though he had never turned on them, keeping their secrets close to his vest in order to protect them. He wondered at how Mia was doing, or if Vince ever truly healed from the wounds on his arm, or how Jesse was after he was shot. Unfortunately, he never had the chance to find out because as soon as his former colleagues had view the nearest street camera footage, they had thrown his ass in jail before the ink had even dried on the warrant for his arrest. Hell, he was sure that they had put him in lock-up before the damned thing had even been printed.

Then, to make thing even worse, they had discovered what he had done to the Trans, but though it had been concluded as a type of aggravated self defense, most of the cops from LAPD turned their backs on him, including his partner. Many had the balls to walk into the prison where he was being held if only to spit at him before they left. It had been such a relief for the Army to come and spring him ten months and twenty five days into his sentence to serve as a translator. Some of the enlisted personnel he was close with viewed his actions as protecting his team, his family, despite that he had chased the Trans away with his gun and car.

Tiny shreds of the paper napkin that he had used to pick up a small spill surrounded the coffee cup when something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head ever so slightly, he caught sight of a familiar person chatting with another. Picking up his mess, he returned the mug and threw out his trash before walking out and to the couple.

"Hey, Face," he greeted the conman and then he paused. He wasn't sure how to greet the other person, but he made up his mind on the most direct approach, hoping that he wouldn't get killed in the process. "Letty."

"I'd call you Spilner, bur we both know that it isn't your real name," Letty Ortiz replied coolly. Her face spoke nothing of what she was feeling, which was both a blessing and a curse.

"You can call me Brian O'Conner," Brian said, almost swallowing nervously. "Listen, Letty, I'm sorry about what I did in L.A., but I was under orders to find out who was doing the hijackings, and bring them down. I never did turn on you or Dom or the others. I just couldn't. I let Dom go. I gave him the keys to the Supra and let him drive off."

"I know. He told me before he drove off from our meeting point. We're going to meet across the border in a couple of weeks. I just stopped by to see the sights, and I ran into your friend here. Seeing you here was just an extra," Letty said. "What happened to you? Last I heard you were dealing with your cop buddies."

"They aren't my cop buddies anymore. They found footage of me letting Dom go and then they threw my ass in jail with no questions asked. I served ten, almost eleven, months of hell in Lompoc, like Dom, but I was mostly confined to solitary or the infirmary. That still didn't stop the inmates from trying to shank me nearly twenty times or from trying to gang up on me. The Army came up to me just as I was starting month eleven and asked me if I wanted to be a translator for them in the Middle East. I agreed and a week later I was in Afghanistan," Brian sighed. "Bad stuff happened while I was there, and it led to me staying here."

Letty didn't pry for any details. She could tell that whatever had happened to the man that she once considered family-and still did on occasion when she really thought about it-was horrific, and that it was better left in the past where it wouldn't affect him.

"I'll see you around then," Letty said, shaking both men's hands and turned to leave.

"Hey, Letty, wait up! What happened to Jesse and Vince? I never did get the chance to find out; the cops threw me away before I could even ask," Brian called out.

Sighing, Letty braced herself to pass on some good news and bad news. "Jesse didn't make it. He died in the hospital the next day. His body couldn't cope with the stress, I was told. Vince, on the other hand, was lucky. If you hadn't called for help when you did, he would have lost his arm, or worse-that driver would have shot him dead," turning back to the men, she pecked the former cop on the cheek. "That's for chasing the Trans down and for saving Vince."

"See you tonight?" Brian asked.

"There're races tonight?" she asked.

"Yeah, and a friend of a friend-so to speak of-is cooking dinner tomorrow night. Want to come? For old times' sake?" it wasn't that he wanted to redeem himself in her eyes, it was just that he wanted to make sure that they parted on good terms.

"I'll be there," she replied and left. She wasn't going to break her word, and she showed up near the beginning of the gathering. Just as she was about to leave, four cars pulled up, causing the crowd to go wild.

"Bullet's here! Get ready to lose your money!" someone shouted from the crowd.

"Suki! Suki!"

"Roman! Hey, Rome!"

"Hey, it's the Conman!"

The words were blurring into an unmanageable mess, and Letty visibly winced at the volume. Whoever these people were, the fans loved them. Her jaw dropped when Brian and his friend that she had met in front of the coffee shop got out of their cars, and the screaming rose to deafening volumes when all of the drivers had exited the vehicles.

Spotting Letty in the crowd, Brian waved her forward. Almost nervously, she did, but she ended up giving him one of her megawatt smiles when Brian dropped the keys to the Skyline in her hands.

"If you want to race tonight, you can. I'll give you the buy in, and you can keep the profits you make," he said. "You'll be in one of the first rounds, so be ready."

Accepting, Letty tucked the keys away, and watched as the man she knew only as Face direct his friend's attention to the first four cars sitting at the starting line. Quiet words were exchanged, and then the other man was let loose. He bounded up to a man with afro hair and started talking to him, his excitement visible to all. As she got closer, she could hear words about money and bets and who they thought would win based on past performances. With mild interest, she watched as they agreed on one car and driver-the far charcoal grey and magenta Honda Civic.

The Honda won that race, and throughout the night, Letty had fun. She had won her race easily, making a nice eleven grand after giving Brian back his buy in that he had loaned her. Everyone parted ways much later, and from the corner of her eye, she watched as Brian jumped when a hand was laid on his shoulder. In her heart, she knew that whatever had happened to him in Afghanistan had affected him deeply enough to scar him for the rest of his life. Making sure that she had the address of the garage in her pocket, she left the man and his friends, hoping that things would resolve themselves one day.

-(_)-

Murdock was busy bouncing from foot to foot, from one side of the garage to the other. He was impatient for that evening, eager to start cooking. But, unfortunately, it was too early in the day to start working the grill, so he had to settle with annoying everyone until he was told to light the barbeque up.

Face, having just hung up with his commanding officer, Colonel Hannibal Smith, wearily buried his head in his hands. He had just learned that their leave was going to be cut short and that they were going to be flown back out to the warzone in a couple of days. The base was down two whole teams from a sudden roadside explosion. He passed the word to Murdock and watched as the pilot stilled from the news. He could see the man mentally ready himself for their upcoming return to duty, and he promised himself that they would take it easy today. But first, Face had to find Tej and ask him a favour concerning a gift that he was planning on giving to a friend on their next stateside leave, whenever that would be. Once done, he lounged on the back deck, charming the phone numbers out of the ladies who were hanging around for the Jet Ski races.

Brian tightened the last bolt on the Skyline, finishing the tune up for that week. He had a habit of checking the engine over every Sunday, if only to make sure that the car would be in top condition for the races next week. He was looking forward to having dinner, nearly as eager to see how Murdock was going to cook the steak as the pilot was to start the grill. Slamming the hood closed, he noted that it was mid-afternoon when he looked at the clock. The time sure did fly when he was fixing his car, and he went to the office computer, filling out forms for a new piece of machinery that would come in handy sometime soon. A polite cough had him looking up to see who was there.

Letty admired the garage she was currently standing in. It was clean, with every piece placed with similar pieces for different models along the walls. It made for an interesting mural to look at, and people who knew what they wanted could select their own parts. Blond hair caught her attention from a window frame and she saw Brian pecking at the keyboard of a computer, searching for something. She made her way to the office doorway and coughed to let him know that she was there.

"Hey, Letty. How are you?" Brian asked, clicking the mouse to confirm the order.

"I'm fine. You turn into a gearhead since the last time you were in L.A.?" she returned.

"No, well, yeah, I guess I have. I used to boost cars with Rome when I was younger. I got good at finding out which cars were the best to take when I acted like a kid wanting to see what was under the hood. But, unlike Dom, I like to stay with the times. I noticed that he used all of the older stuff for his Charger," he replied, grabbing the printed forms and shoving them in a folder, placing it on top of a pile sitting by the computer before shutting the machine down. Standing, he offered his arm to the woman. "Are you ready? Murdock should be firing up the grill in about an hour; he's been bouncing around all day long. Everyone else is outside watching a whole bunch of idiots race on the water."

Letty slipped her arm through his and headed outside with him, eyes wide as she took in the sights of Tej's version of Jet Ski racing, yelling into a bullhorn as he encouraged his pick. He held a large wad of cash in his hands, and from the way he was sitting, it was the last race of the day, and that he probably had earned a nice amount. Two minutes later, the race was done and Tej was off, collecting his winnings, the bullhorn being put to good use to make sure that no one skirted him.

True to Brian's word, Murdock was allowed to warm the charcoal grill within sixty minutes, making sure that he was wearing his apron and a large chef's hat. He spoke to Brian in Pashto, and when he spoke using the English language, he used a British accent much to everyone's amusement. He used his words and eccentric body language to hide what he was doing to the shot gun shells, but he smiled like a maniac when only Brian caught sight of what he was doing. It was encouraging to know that the crazy pilot seemed to know what he was doing, and Brian braced himself for the familiar sound of the explosion that was bound to come when Murdock flipped the steak.

The resulting explosion was sudden and loud, and the remaining people who were at the garage stopped what they were doing and stare in awe at the pilot, wondering what he was doing. Skilfully twirling the metal spatula in the air like a master chef, Murdock used it to flip another steak and gleefully watched the gunpowder ignited with a flash and a cloud of smoke.

"Face, is this safe at all?" Brian asked the conman as he and Rome leaned forward as if to share some secret.

"It's completely safe, guys, and it tastes great. Whatever you do, though, don't ask for his secret sauce. You just might wonder why he isn't locked up. I usually just smile and go along with whatever he's cooked up. It's safer that way," Face told them. The antifreeze marinade secret sauce on the steak was okay, but for God's sake, the idea of that combo would make a lot of people pause in their steps if they ever saw the canister first.

Dinner was perfect. The right steak for everyone and a cold brew to wash down the meat was great. They stayed up for the night, talking about this and that and everything else. They all avoided sensitive areas like the war, and instead commented on how the garage would seem calmer once the two Rangers were gone for their tour overseas. Glass clinked as they toasted the fallen and wished that those who would fall would pass quickly and not suffer. The group spent the rest of the night in silence until they left, leaving Brian to lock up and head to his boat house, and his bed.

-(_)-

Face stared at the picture in his hands, smiling at the recent memories. Jimmy, Tej's right hand man, had snapped the shot of the group, including the two Rangers, as they sat on the hood of their cars, the vehicles arranged in a tight half circle. They had posed seriously with their arms crossed on their chests, with only Murdock grinning like a loon in the image. On the back, seven names had been signed, naming the people who were in the picture.

Murdock sidled up to the conman, patting his pocket to make sure that his copy of the picture was secure. He planned on putting it in his personal locker for safe keeping with his other important items, though he had been assured that if it was ever lost, all he had to do was call and someone would send a replacement to him. He had fun while in Miami, and he had made a nice amount of cash-nearly a thousand dollars on his own. He only hoped that they would be able to go back soon.

"Do you think B.A. will like his present next time the entire team goes stateside?" Face asked out of the blue, having tucked his picture away and closed his eyes as if he was sleeping.

"He had better not park in a handicap zone again, Facey," Murdock wisely stated, breaking out in a big smile at his choice of words.

"I thought that he was really going to kill you that time. He was so pissed that you knocked that air conditioning unit off of the roof so that it would crush the van like a pancake. Granted, you were protecting us from Tuco's men, but still," Face said, leaning his head back, the roar and the vibration of the C130's engine lulling him to sleep despite the rough ride they were experiencing at the time. "Tej'll have it ready when we go back. Wake me when we land." With those few words, Face was asleep, remembering the racing he had done in Miami and the sweet good-bye from his friends, new and old.

-(_)-

Years later, Brian found himself standing alone on the side of the road leading away from Miami at a prearranged meeting point between him and his partner. The Feds had contacted him through different means this time around and they had blackmailed him to join up with them in order to take out a criminal mastermind that found it fit to kill every officer they put in as an undercover illegal racer.

When the call had come through to him, he silently packed up some of his things, including two special pictures and had hailed a cab, leaving a note for his friends, telling them not to worry, that he would contact them as soon as he could, but not to expect anything in the near future. Now, he was waiting for his contact, his informant, and while he waited, he recalled the time when Face and Murdock came back from their long, extended tour overseas with two other men that he vaguely recalled meeting from his time in the 'Stan.

-(_)-

Once the cab fare had been paid, Face and Murdock led the rest of the team into the busy garage, waving to some of the mechanics as they worked on cars. Veering suddenly, the conman had gathered another man into his arms, and earning an elbow to the gut for his troubles.

"Christ, Face! You should know better than sneaking up on me like that!" the man scolded him, wagging his finger in front of his face like he was a puppy who had messed the floor. Just as he was about to properly greet the man; Murdock launched himself into his arms, nearly overbalancing them from the force of the impact. "Hey, Murdock! Do you want to hang on Friday night?"

"I sure do, Brian," Murdock replied.

"Okay, so if we got things settled on that front, let me do the introductions. Hannibal, Bosco, this is Brian O'Conner. He was the translator in the tent, what, four years ago?" Face scrunched his eyebrows in thought before shaking it off. "Hey, where's Tej? He's supposed to have something for me."

"He's betting again. Just head out by the water and you'll find him," Brian waved the team away, ducking his head under the hood again in order to finish his work. He had a lot of people stop by this week, and there were only so many hours in a day to finish it all of the work that the team had to do.

Tej had changed since Face had first met him. The man's hair had been cut short, and it changed the man. He still was the same, though, but it did take a while to find him, including passing by his spot a couple of times. When things finally did register in their minds, Tej warmly greeted the infamous Conman, and explained that he and Suki had split under pleasant circumstances. They were still good friends, and nothing was going to change that.

"Man, I heard that you have a present for me. Can I have it?" Face asked after he introduced his team to the man. He was excited, having only kept in contact with the racing team via phone calls, and those were few and far in between. Still, he couldn't wait to see what Tej had gotten, and if it was what he wanted.

Tej came back with a set of keys in his hand, tossing them to the pilot. "It's in the garage, under the dust cover on the far left side," he explained, watching as the team wandered back inside to look under the dust cover.

"B.A., this is for you," Face said, and with help, he got the dust cover off of the replica of his van that had been smashed in Mexico.

"We replaced the engine with a better one; the old one was rusting out of its housing, and this one is able to let you go from zero to sixty in three seconds flat. We put in bullet resistant glass, and how Face managed to get that to us for free is a mystery we still haven't solved, and he also got us some toughened tires. In fact, they should be run flats, if what I understood from that particular conversation is correct. We even got Suki to paint her up before she left for Tokyo," Brian told them from the car he was currently working on without even looking up. "I even included a full kit in the back if you ever need replacement parts or need to give it a quick fix, and our office number is clipped to the sun visor. There are also a couple of secret compartments inside, but I'll let you find them on your own."

The large black man gently took the offered keys and opened the driver's side door. The ignition turned smoothly, and the engine purred beautifully. It was as close as it was going to get for the big man to cry, and he would vehemently deny the fact that his eyes had watered whenever he was asked in the future. It was the perfect replacement for his lost baby, and he swore that he would take better care of this one than the last one.

Unfortunately, it was another short visit and they were gone within a day, leaving behind a photograph of the infamous A-team as they were known as at the base, something that the team kept with them with their other picture of the racing crew.

-(_)-

Brian jerked his head up at the sound of a modified engine, snapping instantly awake from his half asleep state. His eyes widened when he recognized the slim figure sitting behind the wheel as the car approached him. "Letty?" he stuttered out, giving the woman the hug he could see that she so desperately needed, letting her sink into his embrace with relief. They pulled away and stayed at arm's length as he stared into her dark eyes, trying to find out the truth that was hidden in their depths.

"I want to clear Dom of everything he was accused of, Bullet," she said. By using his street name, she was showing him how serious she was. "I'm sorry that they forced you back in like this."

"Hey, it's okay. I want to help you, Letty," Brain told her, flinging his bag in the back. "Let's get going, all right? I want to know what we're going up against so we can get Dom home. How does that sound?"

Letty nodded and jumped into the passenger seat, knowing that as emotionally unstable as she was at the moment, she wouldn't be able to drive. It had been a battle to get down to Miami, and now she was glad that she wasn't behind the wheel. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she started to tell the former cop-now a reluctant federal agent-everything that she knew about their assignment.

-(_)-

Okay, so here's an idea that didn't want to leave me alone since I first watched 2F2F, and I thought about how cool it would be if Face from the movie A-team was an illegal street racer, and if he knew Brian from a brief posting in Afghanistan. So, I disregarded the fact that there was an implication that Brian had done years of undercover work after the end of the second movie and told myself that the feds got him back into the fold using good old-fashioned blackmail. Also, I noted that it had been mentioned that Brian served a year for aiding and abetting. In my twisted mind, he did serve time, but only about eleven months, seeing as his cover identity would be based on real facts, and I disregarded the prelude. The rest of the time of his 'year' he was in a warzone and recovering from his injuries. The rest of the movies are as canon as I can make them only that Face and the team would be around on occasion. The characters might seem a little out of character, but please bear in mind that this is my first time using both of these fandoms, even in this crossover format.

This story will be a three-shot, and unless there is a sixth movie being planned, this is all that there will be. I'm covering the aftermath of 2F2F, Fast and Furious and Fast Five. Seeing as they left Fast Five with an opening like faking Letty's death and finding out that she's alive, I figured that there will be a sixth coming out some time in the future and will post further chapters to this fic.

Obviously, I don't own anything pertaining to any of the two franchises. If I did, well, there's a damn good chance that I wouldn't be here, writing to my muse's content. I did, however, want to post this Christmas day, but I didn't. So, I wish you all a late Merry Christmas and a happy New Year.