Flight (working title – will change when a better one comes to me,
or is suggested to me))
Rating: R (smut content, language, etc)
Fandom: The Fast and The Furious
Disclaimer: I own nothing of the TF&TF franchise, and I make no money from this ficlet.
Summary: It's been a long year since Dom fled LA, but now it's time to start living again. He's met someone who he feels for, but she has something in her past that could hinder them getting together.
Pairing: Dominic Turetto/OFC (Sofia Vallejo)
Archive: please ask first
Feedback: Yes please. Nits and shreds by PM only, thanks.
Author's Notes: This is a very old story I wrote a few years ago that I finally decided to type up while my muse takes an extended break. It hasn't been beta'd, either. It's not a great work of art or anything, just a love story. Updates may be iffy as I'm trying to get myself back into a writing frame of mind, but the story is complete and just needs typing up.
Brian O'Connor rushed over to the crumples 1969 Dodge Charger, all he could imagine was that Dom had been badly injured. "Dom…Dom…"
Dominic Turetto was dazed, bruised and bloody as he sat in the wrecked car. He struggled out of the window as Brian reached him, "That's not what I had in mind." As Brian helped him out of the car, the sounds of Police sirens filled the air around them. They faced each other off, a chasm of betrayal stretched out between them.
Brian took the keys to his Supra from his pocket and handed them to Dom, knowing what he was about to do was completely against his code…or was it? He didn't know what that was nowadays.
Dom hesitated, "You know what you're doing?"
"I owe you a ten second car," Brian conceded.
Dom nodded, knowing what this would mean for Brian – a cop who let his mark go free, even aiding his escape. As the sirens got closer, Dom revved up the Supra and roared out of LA leaving Brian to face the music alone. He had no choice.
A red Toyota Supra Turbo charged through the desert, kicking up a trail of dust in its wake. "I live my life a quarter of a mile at a time…nothing else matters…for those ten seconds or less…I'm free…"
One Year Later:-
Dom had been in Mexico for a year now. Life was finally moving on. He had no intention of ever going back home to LA. Things would more than likely go back to being exactly the way they were before. Sometimes, though you gotta be the man, take charge, accept responsibility.
Brian had been keeping him informed on what the rest of the team was getting up to. Dom had seriously tried to hate Brian, especially after the ultimate betrayal and everything. But he was man enough to understand how much Brian had given up to help his team – help him. How much Brian had given up to be with Mia. It was Brian who had tracked him down to Mexico, contacted him, and kept him up to date.
Jesse was dead. Died before the ambulance could even get to him. Shot six times in the abdomen. No chance.
Vince survived, but his arm didn't. It had taken him a long time to recover physically, even longer emotionally. He was still very bitter and angry.
Letty suffered internal injuries and lost her spleen, but was happily – if somewhat guiltily – recovering in Leon's arms.
Dom had been relieved. Long term, it would never have worked out between him and Letty. But Leon, yeah. He could see that working – they were perfect for each other.
Mia? Mia had quickly returned to her studies as soon as she could, still working on hard and on her way to becoming a doctor. The frustration at being unable to help Jesse had driven her forward and back into her studies.
Dom had asked Brian if he planned on sticking around, if he still loved Mia. He needed to know that someone would be there for her even if he couldn't be any more. Brian's answer had been 'always'. Dom then asked him if he remembered what he had promised Brian over a year ago.
"'Break her heart and I break your neck…' Yeah, I remember."
"It still holds true…"
"Not gonna happen, Dom. Not gonna happen…"
They finished the conversation with Dom asking Brian to never tell the others where he was, or that they had spoken. Brian tried to argue with him, telling him at least to talk to Mia as she was worried sick about her big brother, but Dom was adamant in his decision.
Because where he was, was where he intended to stay. This was his life now. Right here in Baja, Mexico. He'd brought a garage on the beachfront and lived in the small apartment above it, owned a beat-up old truck, keeping himself to himself.
Dom kept himself busy and told himself his racing days were well and truly over, that he was no longer King of the Roads.
Evenings these days were spent either sat on the beach thinking or in the bar, drinking alone. He didn't need friends. He didn't want to fuck up any more lives, or 'strut his stuff' to an audience like he used to. He was a different man nowadays.
Here, he was just plain old Dom Turetto. Nothing more, nothing less. Living the simple life he'd always dreamed of.
Dom sat on the beach watching the sun set over the inky waves. His mind was the ever present maelstrom of emotions – sometimes trying to get over the past is easier said than done.
Everything was slowly falling into place for him here – but he still lacked one thing. The image so carefully cultivated back in LA of a self-absorbed ladies man had eventually broken down in Mexico. He found his heart longed to be filled, filled with love and other emotions he had kept locked out for a long time.
The local girls had given up flirting with him. He was just a brooding but friendly car mechanic to them – the guy who had a mysterious past and wanted to keep it hidden. The spring-breakers and holiday-makers found him fair game and enjoyed flirting with him, even if they didn't get anywhere with him. Then there were the female customers at the garage…if he had a dollar for every one who threw themselves at him, he'd be a rich man.
But the thrill of the chase wasn't there any more. He didn't want a series of one-night stands, or affairs with the rich, married, and every bored women of the town. He wanted the real thing.
The only women who'd come close to catching his eye here was Sofia Vallejo. She did the books for the garage, and many of the other small local businesses. But she was way out of his league. He knew she was too good for him. Sofia was smart, funny, clever, pretty and very sexy.
The one day a week she spent at the garage was his favorite day of the week. Dom realized that she probably saw him as some meathead out-of-towner, so he kept kinda quiet around her, keeping to general small talk as much as possible.
Dom knew that Sofia's parents had died a long time ago in a car accident. Ironically, they were killed by a street racer. When he had learned that nugget of information, he had vowed then and there to never reveal his past to anyone. Since their deaths, Sofia had lived with her Aunt, moving away only long enough to go to college.
He also knew that Sofia had a daughter, a lively three year old named Amber, but he didn't know if she was married, widowed or what. He didn't want to pry for fear of giving his interest in her away. Plus rumor had it that Sofia was engaged to some wealthy businessman who lived out of town.
Dom sighed deeply and went back to thinking about Sofia. She must be a few years older than he was. She was short and slim. She had dark skin, big brown eyes and a mass of darkly wild curls that hung down her back.
God, the fantasies he'd had about her hair. As black as midnight and always coiled up in a bun with just a few wisps that always managed to work free. He longed to unpin it and let it cascade down her back like he'd seen it once.
Dom shivered at the thought of all that hair draped across his chest as she rode him to the heights of ecstasy…he shook himself out of the fantasy. 'Never gonna happen,' he told himself, using Brian's words. He needed another cold shower now, but he'd had so many cold ones lately he was beginning to wonder if he'd ever remember what a hot one felt like.
Smirking at himself, he kicked at the sand with his bare foot. The dark waves were slowly inching towards him where he sat, and the air still had the smell of warmth lingering in it. The very last sliver of sun peeked over the horizon, giving the sky one last blaze of fire before it set for the night, echoing his melancholy thoughts.
'Shower, beer and bed,' he thought, as he reluctantly pushed himself up off the sand and made his way back to his small apartment above the garage. 'Home sweet home…year, right.'
Tomorrow was Sofia's day at the garage and even though he was sure she didn't think of him as more than a friend, he still wanted to look good for her – well, as good as you can look in oil-stained overalls and grease. It didn't hurt to try, though.