Nothing is forgotten or forgiven
When it's your last time around
And I've got stuff running round my head
That I just can't live down
"You're right, this stuff reheats for shit." Brian ate another fry anyway, even though it was soggy and tasteless.
"Fast food is kind of meant to be eaten fast."
Putting the plate down on the night table, he said, "I could go out, get some real food. Something you could cook with, if you want."
Dom shook his head. "Not that hungry anyway." He reached over and put his palm against Brian's cheek, running his thumb along his lower lip. "We'll stop at the store tomorrow and see how Vic's doing. Maybe by tomorrow night, things will be better. Or I guess it's today, really."
Brian closed his eyes, leaning in to the touch. This was all so mixed up: his hopes for getting Mia back, for returning everything to normal again, and his fear that in doing just that, everything he'd started with Dom would end. He'd be back to that life again, the one Dom thought was so empty. The thread that held them together was thin and frayed already.
After the sex, Dom had sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. Then he'd grabbed his clothes and left the room, whatever else he might have wanted to say unspoken. Brian had only lain there, attempting to come to grips with what had happened yet still feeling that sweet edge coming down off the other side of climax. Dom's leaving hadn't surprised Brian at all considering what they'd just done, the things he'd said. But it did disappoint him. He'd hoped that maybe by finally breaking through whatever held them apart, he could connect with Dom, get through to the inside. Maybe that just couldn't happen, though, not for them. He'd pulled his jeans on, swept fingers through his hair, and followed.
He'd found Dom at the bottom of the stairs standing by the window, wearing just his pants, arms crossed over his chest. Staring out at the front lawn, eyes sadly regarding the crime scene flags still out there.
"Hey," Brian said softly, standing beside him. "Come away from the window." He put his hand gently on Dom's shoulder. "Not always the safest place to stand for a guy in your line of work."
Dom didn't move away, but turned to look at Brian. "What are you afraid of?"
What a question, Brian thought. What would Dom say if he answered, "Everything?"
"If Gregory knows you're here, which he most likely does... or someone's following us... they could be watching."
So Dom came into the living room with him, a slightly panicked look on his face. "Would they bug the house?"
"Oh. " Brian shook his head. "No. If the FBI really wanted to, they'd have to get a warrant, otherwise anything they could conceivably get would be thrown out. Anyway, it's actually a pain in the ass, and expensive... even if they wanted to do it illegally, it's probably more work than they'd want to go to. We're not important enough."
That seemed to relieve him, though he looked skeptical. "It was important enough to put a cop undercover."
"At the time. Things are different now."
They both stared at each other, neither wanting to be the one to touch that comment first.
"How are you doing?" Brian asked with no hope of a real answer.
Dom sat down on the couch. "Ribs hurt like hellfire. Shoulder's back to screaming agony and the head's pounding. But hey, other than that... good times."
Brian gave a half-laugh. "So, where did you go?"
Staring off in the middle distance, he said, "You know where I wanted to go."
"Yeah, I was afraid of that. But you didn't."
"Drove around, hurt too much, came back. You were gone."
"What stopped you?"
Dom leaned his elbows on his knees, tapped his fingers together. Brian wanted to run his hand down Dom's back, maybe even try to rub the kinks out of his shoulders, but that wasn't a great idea considering where they stood right now. Part of him was still waiting to see if Dom was going to clock him. Eventually Dom cast a look over his shoulder. "You did."
"I don't know--"
"You're my new conscience." He shook his head. "All the time Mia tried to haul me back into line. Never worked. You come along and..."
Brian wanted to hear him say the words, but he knew Dom wouldn't finish. It could be bitterness driving that observation, but he wanted to know for certain -- there was a lot to be said for at least having the full disclosure, even if it sucked. Dom must hate feeling changed by their relationship, especially after being so in control for such a long time. He was not the kind of guy to surrender himself to anyone else's influence.
He figured there must be a way to angle the conversation so they could discuss what happened, but Brian was still too careful -- or maybe just afraid of driving Dom away. Neither of them could exactly be called satisfied about the direction the night had gone, even though Brian had gotten a glimpse of what he'd wanted for so long.
"What about you? Must have gone somewhere. You tasted like... whiskey and cigarettes."
"Realized I couldn't find you. I was too pissed off about everything, so I stopped at a bar. Bummed a smoke off someone and had a bourbon. Called Tanner."
"Smoking? Still another facet of your personality."
"Ah, quit a couple years ago, but when things get tense I start itching to have something in my hands. My mouth, too -- oral fixations, you know."
He'd hoped that might generate a smile, but Dom wasn't willing to give him one. "Took a long time coming back. For a while I thought maybe you weren't."
"Did it matter?"
Rolling his head around on his shoulders, Dom answered, "How can you even ask that after what just happened? Jesus."
Every muscle in Dom's back, neck, and arms was tense, it looked like. As if at any moment the trigger would be pulled, and bam.
Brian glanced away toward the kitchen. "It's okay to be wigged. I am, too."
Dom let out a sharp little sound that might have been a sarcastic laugh, it was hard to tell. Even though Dom wouldn't relax and sat perched on the edge of the seat, Brian remained scrunched down on the couch, head back, trying to effect a relaxed pose in the hope that maybe he could convince himself he really was.
"I don't know what I am anymore. I don't know what anything means."
"I know," Brian said. "Neither do I. Hell, I'm not sure I've known since I first really made contact with you. But I've had more time to deal with this. To think about you." He wondered if Dom had ever thought about him back at the beginning the way he'd thought about Dom. Maybe that's what he'd meant about hating how Brian made him feel.
Dom half-turned, really looked in his eyes for the first time since he'd come downstairs. "You think I haven't thought about this? About you?"
"I don't know. I don't know where... where all this comes from. Outside of what you said, hating me for how you feel."
Turning away again, Dom said, "Just that I never believed you'd want..."
He really wanted Dom to stop letting his sentences drift off, but Dom was struggling so much to find words, digging his fingers into his knee, all his muscles tensed. Fighting everything, just like he had before.
"I know," Brian said, trying to let him out of it. "Me neither."
"That's not what I meant. That you would want me."
Okay, could not have planned for that one if he'd tried. "You've got to be kidding." It was impossible to believe that Dom didn't know he was the center of this little universe, that everything was, as Mia had said, pulled to him.
"Aahhh shit," he groaned, and hurled himself back on the couch, rubbing his hands over his face. "I keep telling you stuff I never even think about, let alone tell anyone." He looked up at the ceiling like he might find some answers hidden there. "A couple days ago, you asked me what my dad would think of all this, how disappointed he'd be. You were right -- he would be. I wasn't like this before. I raced, had my friends and we got into our fair share of trouble, but... it wasn't till I got out of prison that things really changed. I didn't know who I was anymore, what I was. All I could see when I looked in the mirror was an ex-con, a failure. The garage, the store... that was the only thing left to me and they weren't choices I got to make. All this shit -- money, thrills, the power trip -- it was just a way to be more than what I felt like I was left with. It was easy to do the wrong thing."
Brian sat sideways, staring at him. For once he was speechless; all he could do was put his hand on Dom's arm, waiting for him to finish.
"I thought you were here because of Mia. Couldn't even figure out why I wanted to bring you in to the team, keep you around. I didn't think you'd want to be here for any other reason than her. When I found out the truth, it made more sense -- you were here because you were supposed to take me down. In the hospital you said it wasn't all a lie. That was the first time I thought, maybe... I don't know. Maybe it was something else."
His words carried such a raw power, but his face was blank and emotionless. Was he confessing because he was trying to tell Brian he wasn't ready for this? Or because he wanted Brian to know why he was keeping him at arm's length?
"Are you ever going to be able to move past that? Are you always going to mistrust me?" He leaned his cheek on the seat back, staring past Dom's shoulder. He didn't even really want to look him in the eye, not right now.
Dom seemed surprised by the question, as if he hadn't thought out what he was really saying.
"No, it's... we're past that." Closing his eyes, Dom continued, "I can't figure out where it fits because I don't know who you are. What you were before this job."
Brian got up and went to the kitchen, got himself some water, and came back. It was so off-kilter to sit here like this as if they were just shooting the shit, nothing out of the ordinary. Except that they were talking about everything that counted now.
"It doesn't matter anymore, does it? You were right when you said I didn't have much of a life. It was okay, I thought. When I got my first UC job, it felt like a chance to carve out something, you know what I mean? Remake my life. Like I was going to be some hotshot detective someday. I didn't know how, I just wanted to see what would happen, I was ready. But then I got to know all of you, and I found out what I was missing." Maybe it was the wrong thing to do, but Brian slid closer, wrapping his fingers around Dom's forearm, just above the cast. "If I was a blank before, I'm not now. Why worry about the guy I used to be? I don't know who he was, either, not anymore. What I care about is here, now, in this world."
Dom didn't touch him back, though Brian was happy that at least he didn't jerk away. That was an improvement. "I don't know how to do this."
"Because I'm a cop, or because I'm a guy?"
When Dom turned to look at him, his face was so torn and anguished. "I don't know."
The tightness in his throat and sting behind his eyes tripped Brian up; he was afraid of losing it in front of Dom. Everything had changed, and yet nothing had. They were still miles apart, confused, afraid. Secret debts owed only to each other, ones they could never hope to pay back.
"So you regret this."
The silence played out for a long time, to the point Brian thought maybe he wasn't going to answer.
"No. Don't understand it, but... I don't regret it."
"That's something." He wanted to find a smile for Dom, but couldn't. He didn't understand any of it, either. No high ground here to demand that Dom just accept it all, so he could figure a way to accept it himself.
Dom put his hand on Brian's thigh, letting the warmth of his skin seep into him. Brian was gorgeous in the pale light, his sad, hopeful face so moving, even though Dom felt cold and bitter. He'd shut himself down after prison, keeping all but the surface emotions stowed away inside. Showed his real face only to Mia and the team, and only then in the most cautious way. Self-preservation, he'd thought. Something about Brian had made him open up, risk it all. Was this the consequence of doing that -- his whole life turned upside down, unsure what he was anymore? Surrendering not just parts of himself, like he was used to, but everything to someone he didn't really know?
"The other day you talked about consequences. I learned that... nothing happens without a cost. Nothing. Every step we've made, every decision, had a cost -- that's why we're here now. All my bills came due. I think the cost of this thing goes way beyond just that everyone we know would think we're a couple of queers. Like there has to be some kind of payment for feeling what I feel. For having you at all."
The understanding came slowly to Brian's face, his shoulders sagging as he figured out what Dom was saying. He wanted to be more for Brian, to be strong and accepting, open in the way Brian believed he was. But he couldn't see any future except misery, and he didn't want Brian believing there was some kind of happy ending ahead.
"I'm not naïve," Brian said quietly. "Not the way you think. I know once Mia's back... things won't be the same. But don't shut me out now just because it'll be different tomorrow."
He pulled Brian to him, hard, digging his fingers into his hair.
"What do you want, Brian? I don't know how to be with someone who doesn't want... who doesn't expect something from me."
"Nothing," Brian said harshly against his ear. "Nothing besides this."
"You have to want something. Tell me."
"Just to be here for you. To make things right." Brian clutched roughly at Dom's shoulder, sending screaming fire through his tendons. Pain didn't matter anymore, though; Dom was drowning in all of this, barely keeping his head above water. Not even sure anymore if Brian was keeping him afloat or pulling him down. "You had faith in me before. You wanted me around. That's all I want, to be like that... before everything came unglued."
"I have faith in you. But... I can't give that stuff back to you. It can't be the way it was before. It's too fucked up, every which way."
Brian kissed down Dom's chest, heading south, lips and tongue marking a cool wet trail down his body. Though it felt amazing, he wasn't sure Brian knew what he was getting himself into. Maybe he was making another mistake to keep this going, even just tonight. But it was impossible to deny the need, the want. When he cast his eyes down, expecting to see Brian's crazy grin, he saw Brian gazing up at him instead, something like sadness on his face. Just for a second, and then it was gone.
He hauled Brian up to him, kissed him hard. "You don't have to."
Pulling away, Brian sat back, drawing light circles on Dom's chest. "I want to. I told you, I already dreamed this a hundred different ways."
"It's not..." He sucked in a breath. "You don't owe me that."
"No, I don't." That was so Brian -- challenging and testing. "What's going on? What's this about?"
"There was this pained look on your face."
Brian almost laughed, smiling down at Dom in a way that reminded him of the first night they'd really met. That shy, awkward grin. "If I did, it's not because of that. I want to. Don't know how many times I have to tell you that, but I do."
"Then what's that look about?"
Brian stretched out over him again, his skin furnace-hot all along Dom's body. He did those things to his ear again, things that left Dom feeling like stretched-out elastic.
"Sometimes it hits me that this is it. It's happening, but it won't be for long. Like everything has to count."
Dom couldn't say anything to that, there was no way to make him feel better. The same fear weighed him down, too. Brian pushed him to shift up, then knelt down in front of him, undoing his fly, moving his hand over Dom's hardening dick, tugging the pants down around his hips. When Brian put his mouth around the head, he hesitated briefly. That only helped convince Dom this wasn't what Brian wanted to do, but then Brian kept going, so good that he had a hard time believing Brian hadn't done this before. His hands ranged over and around, touching Dom just right, like he already knew exactly what he liked most. Dom was completely lost in him: he couldn't stop touching Brian, threading fingers through his hair, tracing them over his neck, jaw, ears. It wasn't as if he hadn't had great blow-jobs before, but this was Brian in front of him, Brian's mouth on his dick, Brian touching him like he owned Dom, and that made it all the more incredible. His body hummed with pleasure, muscles tensing with that sweet pain, until he looked down and the sight of it tipped him over the edge. Brian jerked back but didn't stop stroking Dom with sure hands until long after the spasms had stopped.
Weakly, he drew Brian up on the couch next to him, then pulled his cock out of his jeans. Hot, velvety, not like the way he remembered before with the rough, frenzied groping of his past experiences with a guy. He watched Brian's face while stroking him: his mouth open, eyes half-closed, lost in the pleasure somewhere behind himself. Whatever it was he felt, Dom wished he could feel, too. To crawl inside him, feel everything the same, know all of it like he knew himself. Brian wanted things the way they were before everything fell apart, and Dom wanted to put the pieces back together for him, he truly did. But that was impossible now; nothing would ever fit together again. All they had was this, maybe. Nothing in his own life would ever be right again without Brian; he was left with something that could never be whole.
He brought his mouth to Brian's, tasting himself on Brian's skin for the first time, watching as Brian came under his hand, back arching, head thrown hard against the couch. Hot, sticky fluid all over his hand and arm, and he didn't even care, just wanted to watch Brian's face like this, touch him, forever.
Dom brushed his knuckles against Brian's cheek, careful not to scrape him with the edge of the cast. A soft sheen of sweat covered his face; Dom traced his finger through it, licked it off. Taking something of Brian inside him, anything he might be able to keep.
They could hold on to all the pieces, hope for the chance to put them back together. But that was all it was: useless hope, hanging on. Nothing changed simply because you wished it. Brian pulled him closer, breath slowing, hands skating up and down Dom's back.
"Are you all right?" he asked quietly.
"Aren't I supposed to be asking you that?" Dom's voice was a hoarse whisper.
"Are you in pain? It's just... you're shaking."
His throat felt tight and he squeezed his eyes shut. "No."
He was exhausted, happy and sad, maybe more than he'd ever been since before he went to prison. But he had no idea how to tell Brian that. He allowed Brian to pull him down; they stayed that way for a long while, held together by something more than just desire. Something like fear, he thought: both of them afraid of what it meant to feel this way, and what it would mean to lose it.
Brian had almost nodded off when Dom slid off the couch and went to the kitchen. He ran a hand over his chest and stomach, pulled it away, sticky with sweat and semen. From the refrigerator, Dom said over his shoulder, "You need some food. You're gonna end up a stick figure, you keep going this way." But he didn't find anything worth making as he poked around, muttering in what sounded to Brian like Italian. He had no idea Dom could actually speak it.
"Just reheat what I brought back last night."
Dom eyed him with contempt. "You eat as bad as you dress."
"It's something when the cupboard's bare."
Dominic sighed. "Got that right." Rubbing his forehead, he said, "Shit, this is so fucked up."
For a moment Brian wasn't certain if he was making a thinly veiled remark about them, or the general situation and lack of anything normal in their lives currently. But then Dom flashed him that look, as if to say, "I didn't mean it like that," and he relaxed.
"You tired?" Brian asked, coming up next to him.
"If I wasn't before, I am now." Dom cupped Brian's shoulder, pulling him close. "Got a knack for taking it out of a guy."
Brian ducked his head, then went for the fridge. Talking about this made it harder to deal with. He pulled out the bags and said, "Go upstairs, I'll bring this up to you. You want something to drink?"
"I suppose you'll tell me a beer will interfere with my medication."
"Pretty much, yeah." Brian jerked his head up. "Go. Now that you're all wiped out. Besides, you gotta save your strength for tomorrow. Today, whatever."
"Need to clean up, anyway."
Brian nodded, focusing on food. Much as he talked normally, he wasn't sure where the line was here, which side he should err on -- not talking about everything that had changed between them like it didn't matter, or chewing it to death like a couple of chicks. And he wasn't about to ask Dom what he'd prefer, either. If he'd learned anything about the guy, it was that when he wanted to get chatty and talk important stuff, he would, but nothing could make him if he didn't want to. One night they'd all been hanging out at the house, watching a movie, and when they'd both ended up in the kitchen, Dom had started talking to Brian about his mother, about raising Mia, about the store and how they'd come to take it on. All as if he and Brian had been friends for years. You could never really plan on that sort of thing, though -- he just seemed to run hot or cold that way, and that was just how it was.
When he got back upstairs, Dom was lying on his bed on top of the covers staring up at the ceiling. It took Brian's breath away to look at him, lying there like that, one arm stretched above him, the other over his eyes. Even with bruises coloring his skin his body was so striking, the strong lines of muscle curving and arcing in different ways on different parts of his body. His pants were down so low on his hips that it emphasized the lines of the external obliques, carved channels tapering down to hint at something else beneath that cloth. Before, he'd never imagined doing anything like sucking another guy's dick, and it had been weird at first, but better than he could have expected. Because it was Dom, because he was incredible. Because he was what Brian wanted most. Now that he'd done it, he wanted more, wanted to experience everything else Dom was willing to let him do.
Taking his arm away from his eyes, Dom motioned at Brian to come over. He seemed to have a sixth sense for when Brian hesitated; it had amused him when Dom tried to give him an out for sucking him off, as if he had been pressuring Brian. Too nice for his own good. Brian sat cross-legged on the bed and handed him some fries and a really limp, sad cheeseburger. "Sorry. We were doing better when we were stuck in a motel room, I think."
"Other things on our minds."
"Guess so."
Dom took a few bites, then put it aside. Brian continued munching until he had to admit defeat. "You're right. This stuff reheats for shit."
They fell asleep not long after, Dom with his hand on Brian's thigh, both of them lying outside the covers and still partly clothed. Not much of a sleep, at least for Brian; he bolted awake with that familiar falling sensation, freaked out and feeling like he was back on that semi, trying to jump off. Dom rolled over, sliding a hand up to his hip. "Okay?" he asked.
"Yeah, just half in, half out." He rubbed his forehead. "We really are a piece of work, both of us. We better get some real sleep if we're going to do this tomorrow. Ugh. Today."
He rose, figuring he should go to the guest room, but Dom tightened his grip on the waistband of Brian's jeans. "Where do you think you're going?" There wasn't anything lighthearted about the way he said it; his voice was almost threatening.
"I just thought, you know, since we both need to sleep."
"I'm not pissed. About this. You can stay."
He wondered if Dom would ever be able to admit to wanting him close by. Maybe it was too much to ask of someone who was used to always being the one others needed, never the one in need.
He let Dom pull him on top of him. "It's hard to sleep. It's easier when you're here," Dom said.
Resting his head in the crook of Dom's neck, he sighed against his warm skin.
"Did you know what you were doing before?" Brian asked, his voice tickling over Dom's skin.
"Hardly."
Pulling back, Brian asked skeptically, "So, you never dropped the soap in prison, or took advantage of the guys who did?"
Dom chuckled. "Nope. It wasn't that cut and dried, anyway. But there were... things you could find to do, people you could find to do them with."
"The simple stuff."
"Very simple."
Dom played with his hair for a bit, just gazing at Brian, drinking in the smell of him, the feel.
"And you never?" he asked, still wondering about Brian's life before, what all this meant to him.
"Nuh-uh. Not even thought about till you corrupted me." Brian slid up to straddle him.
"Corrupted, huh? Yeah, guess I have... the racing, the life of crime."
"What happens when you roll with a badass. I paid for my ticket, I knew what I was getting into."
"We'll see just how much of a badass I am tomorrow, I guess."
"It'll be okay. We can do this."
"You mean the meet? Or something else."
Brian's face seemed to run through every emotion. Dom watched him, running his thumb over his lower lip. "Everything, I guess. Both. Whatever you want it to mean." Dom pulled him down alongside him.
"Sleep. Worry about what it means tomorrow." That was the best he could give Brian. And he knew it was worthless.
"I refuse to believe there are no second-rate Hollywood stars who wouldn't go to an afternoon party wearing baggy jeans and sloppy t-shirts." Brian stood with his clothes in hand, glaring as Dom rummaged through his drawers.
"Yeah, but their baggy jeans obviously came from Barney's and their t-shirts might be sloppy, but they're clearly Armani. Get me?"
"I just don't see the point in spending that much money on clothes."
"Believe me, we can tell. The first time I saw you I wondered if you were buying your shit at that clothing-by-the-pound place at Goodwill."
Brian tried really hard not to laugh but it was a losing battle; he turned away, shaking with it.
"You care more about this stuff than most chicks."
"You think I would have spent this much time at a gym if I didn't give a shit about how I look?"
"Point taken." He looked down at his feet. "I suppose you're going to tell me the Chucks are out?"
"Nah, they're okay. Here."
He tossed a pale blue Henley at Brian. "At least this will make the sloppy jeans look less sloppy. And help hide the wire. Too bad it's summer; I'd loan you a jacket."
"I don't know. I think that if they see the gun, it's probably to our advantage. And there's nothing to hide with the wires these days, really. They're very thin. Transmitter will fit in your pocket just like change."
"Maybe. It's just... Tony's surrounded by some twitchy guys."
"It'll be okay." He pulled on his jeans, hiking them up a little higher so they'd look less sloppy, and pulled the shirt over his head. "Why are you keeping clothes that are too small for you?"
"Have a hard time getting rid of shit. Mia's on my ass about it all the time."
That was pretty obvious even to Brian, judging from the garage out back with his dad's stuff, to the DT garage; even the rooms around the house spoke more of his parents' tastes, not to the kinds of items Dom or Mia would choose.
Dom was still in his boxer briefs and Brian wished he would get dressed himself, because watching him move around looking like that made it a lot harder to focus on anything else. He grabbed a pair of pants and a black t-shirt and went into the bathroom. While he was gone Brian fished around in the chest, looking at his clothes, then opened the closet: Dom had some seriously fine threads with labels even he recognized. Brian wondered if he'd ever get to see him wear any of them. He wore clothes so well, too; even in overalls or grease-smeared work clothes, he looked like he could be in GQ. Dom would have no trouble fitting in at even the best parties.
"See anything you like?"
Brian jumped; he hadn't even heard Dom come out. "Nice things."
"Now you know my secret vice. Probably spend almost as much money on it as I do on cars."
"Is this the only one? How boring."
Dom put his hand firmly behind Brian's neck and pulled him into a rough kiss. "Got a new one now."
Brian slid his hand up under Dom's shirt, tracing fingers over the sparse hair just above his groin. "I'd love to see you in some of those things."
He changed the subject, glancing away with something like guilt on his face. "You look good in this. Really, really good. But you probably know you'll look good in anything; that's why you dress like that, isn't it? To call less attention."
Brian stepped back, eyeballing him, crossing his arms over his chest. Again he was fighting not to laugh. "Fuck you."
"You saying you don't know you're gorgeous?" There was that look again, the same one he'd gotten that first night at the party: lips twisted in a smirk, his brown eyes sparkling, head cocked like he was challenging Brian to say something.
Brian shook his head. "It's not like I go around thinking I'm... Mr. Stunning."
Dom barked out a laugh.
"I guess I've always known that people react to me that way." He shrugged. "I don't know. After a while you realize that that's how people think of you, that they think you're good-looking or pretty or whatever. But it doesn't mean much, except that it was always easier to pick up girls. And I had to learn to fight because guys always wanted to beat me up."
"Glad you're not smug about it."
If the situation had been different, he'd have asked what Dom thought, if it meant something to him. But even feeling okay with each other today, even being able to joke and tease, the situation still felt iffy.
Dom ran a hand over Brian's shoulder and said, "I'm going to call Leon while you finish getting ready. You can use my razor, anything in the bathroom you need."
"Okay."
Dom went downstairs and dialed the number off the list Tanner had given them. Leon answered right away, sounding relieved when Dom identified himself. Dom tried to explain what had happened without getting too far into it, but Leon freaked when he heard about Mia.
"Jesus, we should have never left, D. I'm so sorry. Jesus fucking Christ."
"Not your fault. It was safer that way, anyhow, you needed to get gone. I just didn't know where you ended up till Brian called his... supervisor. And I had no way to get in touch with you till I was back here."
"Never thought it would turn out to be a good thing that he was a cop, you know?"
"Me neither." He wondered how badly Leon would react if he found out about the past 24 hours. Shit, could this possibly have gotten any more fucked? "Can I talk to Letty if she's there?"
"Just a second..." There was a muffled sound on the other end, and then Leon came back. "Uhh... I'm sorry man, she doesn't want... she's not ready to talk to you, Dominic. I'm sorry."
Dom had no idea what to say. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling a tightness in his stomach and sourness in the back of his throat. Every time he thought things couldn't get worse.
Again Leon said, "I'm sorry."
"Guess I deserved it."
"Nah, Dawg, you didn't. It ain't your fault. You didn't make any of us do nothing we didn't sign up for." That was Leon all the way -- even if he had a grudge, he'd never let on. He was always about maintaining, about keeping everything even and smooth. The glue that held them all together.
"Except that last one. You all said it was bad. You were right."
For a long time Leon was silent, until he said, "She'll get over it, she will. She's just... you know how she is, man. Gets a bone between her teeth and chews till it's in splinters. She's just hurting and freaked. So what about Mia? How close are you to getting her back?"
"I don't know. We're going to meet Gregory soon."
Leon whistled. "Shit, Dominic. That guy... he thinks everyone's a toy, you know? Be careful." Though Leon had never met Gregory, he knew enough about him, had heard enough stories, that he had a pretty clear picture of just who they were dealing with. Sometimes Dom wasn't sure he had as clear a picture, just because of their history. But he wouldn't know until it happened.
"We will." Brian had come downstairs and was carefully pretending not to listen. "Gotta go. Would you tell... tell Letty I'm sorry."
Very quietly, Leon said, "You got it. Don't know that it'll change anything, but you got it."
Dom hung up and stared at the phone for a while. In a weird way she had given him some kind of out here, even though it wasn't what he'd asked for or even wanted. Right at the time this thing with Brian was happening. Or maybe in a way all these things were happening because of Brian. Everything was so mixed up now, cause and effect and consequence. It gave him a headache just thinking about it.
But Brian smiled at him with that dazzling little-boy grin, and for at least a while, things would feel better.
Tanner studied Toretto as they were explaining the wire to him, taking note of what he paid attention to, what he brushed off. After all that time setting up the case, this was the first opportunity he'd had to really watch him in motion. He was different than the man Tanner had met in the hospital -- more intense, more focused. In a weird way, more charismatic; there was a confidence about him that came out even though he was clearly unhappy about being in a surveillance truck with a bunch of cops. He reminded Tanner of the kind of guy he met most often on the force: strong, determined, hard. A rough kind of charm. Tanner wouldn't go so far as to say that he had been wrong about Toretto all this time, but he was definitely rethinking the hopeless, dumb criminal tag.
That was the bad part, though -- it wasn't hard to see what had sucked Brian so deep into his world. When Tanner had first picked Brian for the detail, he hadn't realized just how much that adrenaline lifestyle would appeal to the kid, had no idea how much Brian wanted something more in his life. Then you threw in someone like Toretto, the sun in the center of his little criminal galaxy, and of course Brian would be dazzled by that. Pulled right in, even though he damn well knew better. Though Tanner was starting to see that there was something else under all of it, a weird current of electricity between the two of them. That was always the danger of UC: building a relationship with your target, letting yourself like them. He'd seen it before, the romanticized idea that their mark was a better human being than other cops understood. When Tanner had realized what was going on with Brian, suddenly his whole "you can't put a beautiful wild thing in a cage" fuckup with letting Toretto go made an annoying kind of sense. It also made him want to slap the crap out of Brian for behaving like a teenage girl with a fan crush. Even the way Brian watched Toretto when they'd pulled his shirt up to attach the wire -- there was something in the way they looked at each other that wasn't kosher, but it gave him a huge headache merely thinking about it, so he focused on other things.
The sergeant sat toward the front, letting Muse and the tech guys explain everything. Both of them listened intently. When the tech talk was done, Tanner said, "If it looks like something's going south, use the word 'travel.' We'll have a team standing by, but it could be a long time before they can get to you in a place like that. Don't do anything foolish -- you are not a tactical unit, you are not undercover officers. You are there to try to get a twenty on your sister--" he looked pointedly at Toretto "--or set up a meet to get her back. That's all. I want us to get this guy where every charge sticks. Brian may have his gun, but in no way does that mean I want him presented with any opportunity to use it. Understood?"
The two of them looked at each other, again sharing something that Tanner didn't even want to think about. "Got it," Toretto said gruffly.
Dom had been watching Tanner watch him for a while now. He could tell the guy was cued in to the way he and Brian were around each other now, but he wasn't stupid enough to call attention to it. Just as Dom looked away from Tanner, Muse moved toward him with something shiny in his hand. Dom leapt back out of the chair, knocking it over and crashing a bunch of equipment to the floor with it. His heart raced and he felt a cold prickle of sweat on the back of his neck. Every one of the cops except Brian had drawn their guns.
Spreading his hands, he said, "Sorry. It's... you've never been inside. Someone comes at you with something shiny in their hands in an enclosed space, you don't wait around to find out what it is."
"Stand down, guys, " Tanner said, holstering his gun. "Come on. We're all overreacting."
"You think?" Brian asked sharply. He glanced over at Dom, flashed him an "I'm sorry for this bunch of morons" look, and shook his head. Even though his face was pinched with worry, that was what Dom needed, what he realized he'd been missing these past few days with everyone gone away -- someone behind him one hundred percent, unconditional. Someone who knew him.
But Dom couldn't sit down again, still too tense and wired. The idea of being trapped in this tiny truck with a group of armed cops was making his skin crawl anyway, and now this... It had been a long time since he'd been affected by that skin-memory of prison. Like he could never really get rid of it or will it away because it controlled too much of him.
Tanner put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "We're not exactly used to working with ex-cons like this. A little too twitchy for our own good."
Dom was starting to understand just why Brian liked the guy. He definitely had a way of keeping things real. After he got his breath under control, Dom took the transmitter and let them test everything out.
"Okay, boys," Tanner said dryly. "Saddle up, you're ready to go." As they left the truck, Tanner asked Dom, "So how does it feel to pull for the good guys for a change?"
Dom just made a noise low in his throat and went to the car.
Things were already well under way at Gregory's house, enough so that Brian wondered if they could reasonably call themselves fashionably late. The valets looked bored, in fact, when they rolled up the driveway, having long since taken care of most of the cars, waiting now for the first to leave. Brian had done valet work when he first came to LA, and he remembered the private parties at the restaurant he'd done most of his work at: the way the first couple hours were crazy busy, then tapered off as the attendees got blitzed, then eventually handing off the keys to the coked-up owners, most often when it was well into the wee hours of the morning.
The house was like most in these hills, hidden behind walls and a gated drive with security, though higher than most, due to the nature of Gregory's business. It was more a collection of buildings than a house, sprawled across the sloping property. The jacarandas were blooming around a courtyard near the entryway. Dotted around the outside of the courtyard were at least three separate fountains.
When they drove up in the RX-7, all the valets turned to look at the car. One kid jumped to the front so he could get it. "Shit, this is a thing of beauty, man," the kid said to Brian, then did a double take when he saw Dom. "Oh yeah, I know this car. You're Toretto, aren't you?" He seemed completely bewildered by the presence of someone he obviously recognized, but who wasn't in the film industry. "I seen you race. Man, you're amazing."
"You race?" Dom asked with genuine interest. That was always the thing about Dom that threw Brian off-balance, the way he seemed to really connect to everyone at the meets, yet held himself aloof from people in other social situations. He was never too cool to talk to one of the kids, but others barely merited his attention.
"Not in your league, man. My car's not there yet. Still got a lot to do."
"Come by my garage sometime. Let me take a look."
Brian gave the keys to the kid and jerked his head toward the entry. Dom bumped the kid's knuckles and peeled himself away; Brian just shook his head at Dom, who gave him a "what?" kind of look.
"You're like everybody's big brother."
"Everybody's cool big brother," Dom said as they entered the main house. It was big, as Brian expected, one of those classic hacienda-styles that were popular in the '50s. People swarmed through it, and the two of them melted into the crowded living room area, which was bigger than all the rooms of Brian's home put together. He watched as Dom scoped things out, making note of all the doors and stairways. He nodded in the direction of a stairway off on the other side of the entry, so Brian followed him. Dom seemed causal, almost as if he felt at home, but Brian's heart was definitely beating a lot faster, his breath coming more shallowly. Dom said he'd never been to this house; the times he'd met Tony before were in Malibu or in public places with Castelano. Even though they didn't stand out in any way from the rest of the crowd, knowing that they were poking around in the house of someone who'd kill you for touching an ounce of his chronic didn't leave Brian feeling terrifically brave. Each got a drink from the bar.
They went up the stairs, Brian keeping a lookout to see if they were noticed. All the art photographs carefully arranged, the paintings, seemed clearly designed to give the place an air of sophistication that its owner didn't have. But it was just the kind of place Gregory would need in order to feel like he fit into the legit film industry. Dom looked in every room upstairs -- and there were a lot of rooms -- until Brian asked him, "Do you honestly think she'll be here?"
"No. But we check everything, even just to see what things look like. Know what we're dealing with."
"Got it. But this is a big house. Can't stay under the radar if we go everywhere."
"That's okay." Dom was totally focused now, his face alert and tense. The way he looked when he was driving.
They went back downstairs, then through a couple more hallways, avoiding the kitchen because it was so busy. Standing in a corner, overlooking the pool and the spectacular view of the hills spreading out below, they scanned the room until Dom touched Brian's shoulder. "Three o'clock, over by the archway. That's Tony."
Brian turned to look at him: totally nondescript, a generic guy in his mid-fifties, dark curly hair salted with grey, olive skin. Not someone you'd ever peg for a psycho crime lord. Shorter than everyone around him, but obviously the center of their attention. He wondered how many of the men standing close by were the goons. He was mostly talking to a blonde bimbo with some of the biggest tits Brian had ever seen on a woman that thin.
A woman came up to them, smiling, stirring her drink. It was impossible to tell her age, she was so plastic. "I remember you," she said to Dom. "You were at Tony's New Year's bash, weren't you?"
Dominic nodded, but Brian could tell he didn't remember her. "How are you?"
"Good, really good. And I definitely remember you," she said to Brian, who blinked a couple times in surprise.
"I'm pretty sure we haven't met before."
"No, we were on Blood Dawn. You had an even smaller role than I did. One of the cops."
"Really, I'm afraid you're mistaken. I don't act."
"I never forget a face. Especially not one like yours." She pushed her breasts against his side.
"I'm flattered, but..."
Dom smirked. She was obviously a little drunk, but Brian got the distinct impression that had nothing to do with her conviction they'd worked together.
"What's your problem? What are you, too good remember me? Gone on to better things?"
He flashed her his best smile. "Problem? No problems. You?" he asked Dom, who shook his head. "See, we're problem-free. Just a case of mistaken identity." He was starting to wonder if he might have arrested her at some point, though he couldn't ever remember arresting any actress types. She narrowed her eyes at him and walked away, muttering something.
"Fun party. Everyone's so friendly."
Dom raised his eyebrows. "Always a good time with Tony."
A waiter came by with a tray and took their empty glasses. He smiled at Dom, slipping a card into his pocket as he walked past. Dom didn't even register surprise, but pulled it out and looked disinterestedly at it.
"Phone number."
Brian tried not to laugh as they both turned to look at the waiter, who mouthed something in Dom's direction. "Did he just say 'daddy' to you?" Brian asked with glee.
"Fuck off." But his eyes were glittering when he said it.
Brian bit his lip to keep from laughing, holding his head down towards his chest. "I swear to god, Muse, you better get your laughing done now because if I see so much as a smile later, you're a dead man."
Dom drew his mouth in a tight line, something between annoyance and amusement on his face. "Let's go outside, otherwise we're never gonna make it out of here alive. There's a guest house and a couple other buildings to keep us busy."
"Tennis court, horse stable, motocross track..."
"Not quite, but not too far off. He's probably making up for what he can't have at the Malibu house. He thinks it makes him important."
"Except it's the drugs that make him important."
"Got that right."
They went out back, careful to walk among the clusters of people drinking and smoking and talking, until they swerved away towards the back drive. There was nothing in the guest house, nothing in the pool house, and they were just about to enter the garage when a voice came from behind. "Dominic, Dominic, Dominic. You pain me."
They turned around slowly. Gregory had three guys with him, all of them short, squat, and obviously packing. Gregory was grinning, his cheeks slightly red, dark brown eyes sparkling. That was the biggest difference between Gregory and his muscle -- they all had dead shark eyes, their faces stony and lifeless. Not the punks Castelano had gone on about, so he could only think this was the old-country wild bunch.
"Tony," Dom said, nodding.
"Are you taking advantage of my hospitality? Crashing my party?"
"Ah, you know me. I can't resist a good soiree. Just assumed my invitation got lost in the mail."
Gregory laughed, a weird, snorting laugh that somehow made him seem even more sinister than he already did.
"You've always been so much fun to work with. That's why it was so disappointing to hear you'd fucked up." He looked around. "Did you truly think I was stupid enough to keep her here? Honestly, you wound me."
"Nope, but doesn't hurt to take a look. Never know what crazy things people will do."
Gregory sighed. "Good point. But let's take our conversation into the office, shall we? It's so unpleasant out here. Though I'd love to hear what you think of the cars, probably best to wait till later and things are nicely sorted out."
"Happy to. But maybe you could ask bitch-ass here to take the gun off us." Dom nodded at the bodyguard. "We ain't going anywhere."
Gregory turned to the guy next to him and said, "Mike, please, it's so... hostile. Especially since Dominic's friend is polite enough not to take out his gun."
Brian glanced at Dom, whose face was completely impassive. He couldn't imagine Gregory doing something here with guests around, but from everything he'd heard, he was so unstable that God only knew what could happen. The thing that amazed Brian most, though, was how calm Dom appeared, as if this was all totally normal for him. Maybe it was -- this world he kept talking about like it was where he belonged, the very things that had convinced him he was such a bad guy.
They followed Gregory up a back way to the second floor, and went into one of the rooms Dom had looked in previously. It was an office, but it didn't look like it was ever used much. Yet another thing built for show. Gregory stood in front of his desk, leaning on the edge. "Can I get you anything, a drink?"
"We weren't planning to stay, but thanks anyway," Dom answered.
"So, who's your friend here? Not the type you usually run with, is he? Not exactly an East L.A. street urchin. Rather breathtaking, too."
"My new mechanic. Brian Spilner."
"I heard that you lost one of the people on your crew. How sad. Those Vietnamese gangs... they're so dangerous."
This gamesmanship was making Brian feel incredibly twitchy. Yet the more sarcasm Gregory threw his way, the icier Dom got. This was his element, his world; if it was all a façade, and he wasn't really that calm underneath, you'd never know it.
"Can we cut the crap? You wanted to deal, so let's deal. What'll it take to get my sister back?"
"No, no, no. You have no sense of humor. First I want to know about your stunning mechanic." He turned to Brian. "Where do you come from? You look like you belong in a magazine spread on surfers or hanging out on Venice Beach, not drag racing on city streets like some poor homeboy."
Brian wasn't totally certain whether he should answer. Dom had made it clear he wanted to do the talking, but it would look weird if he didn't say anything. "Just another low-rent adrenaline junkie, I guess." He flashed a smile, and Gregory raised his eyebrow.
"I like him, he's spunky. Not afraid to carry a piece to a party, either."
"Just insurance," Brian said.
"So tell me, are you committed to this job? Or are you... flexible? Because you'd certainly be easier on the eyes than some of my help." If Brian wasn't mistaken, Gregory was... leering at him. Then he licked his lips, and Brian blinked.
Dom crossed his arms over his chest. In a very wry voice, he said, "Hands off, Tony. He's taken."
There was a long, weird moment of silence pulled out between the two of them; they were looking at each other as if they understood something no one else in the room was going to get. A private joke, or maybe a not-joke. Whatever it was, it made everyone else uncomfortable except them.
"Dominic. I had no idea you were playing both sides these days."
"Yeah, article in Road & Track about queer racers and the mechanics who love them. I was intrigued."
Gregory burst out laughing, but Brian's insides twisted around. He felt like he was going to be sick. What the fuck was Dom doing? Had he forgotten they were wearing a wire? Did he think this was for fun?
"Well, you know my rules. I'll back off, but if you ever change your mind about him, I'll take your references happily. I could always use a good mechanic." He sighed. "You are just... so much fun, Dominic. I really believe that's half the reason I went for this whole scheme. Always happy to have merchandise, of course, but you're just so charming that you could pitch me anything and I'd go for it. Alberto, too." Gregory circled around Dom like he was checking him out, which Dom didn't even really respond to, not the way a guy normally would be when he was getting looked at like that. He acted as though he'd seen all this before. Brian was starting to understand that Dom had held back a lot when he was filling him on Gregory. Always holding back something, shutting him out. "And you're the life of the party wherever you go."
"Can we talk business now that the flirting's over?"
"Oh, you're such a buzzkill. All right. What have you got to offer?" He gave Dom's body one last long lookover, and then leaned back against the edge of the desk again.
"Basic payment. Your money from the missed shipment -- the whole value -- plus interest I've taken from the rest. I take back the collateral you already took from me."
"You're so prosaic." He heaved another dramatic sigh and rubbed his temples. "It's a fair deal, though."
"If anything has happened to her..."
"Again you wound me. I wouldn't harm a hair on her head. I like you too much. I find your whole street-racing scene so invigorating."
"Yeah, you like me so much you kidnap my sister, who's not a part of this. You got proof you haven't hurt her?"
"My word's not good enough?"
"Not usually."
Dom was so cool when he said it, but it made Brian that much more nervous. Maybe they had a history of shit-talking each other, but with a guy like this, you had to seriously wonder how far was too far. Dom and Gregory stared at each other for a while, before Gregory clapped his hands together sharply, making Brian jump.
"Sounds like we can do business. You'll put a bump on that interest, I assume? For the couple days you went AWOL. Oh, but that reminds me. I've heard tell you're back at your house. Your souped-up little car was seen in the driveway. Now, you wouldn't be flouting that police manhunt for the escaped ex-con, would you? Or maybe you're already... having a conversation with them about all of this? That would explain why you could so brazenly come back when you're supposed to be gone."
"Never heard of hiding in plain sight?" He stared coolly at Gregory, waiting for a reaction. Gregory's eyes had rested on Brian when he said police, and now Brian felt the sweat between his shoulder blades. "They've been looking other places. You think I want to have anything to do with cops? You know me better than that. "
"Mm. Maybe that's the problem -- I don't know you as well as I'd like."
Dom rolled his eyes. "Deal or not?"
"Give me the extra, and certainly."
"Whatever it takes. Gimme a number. But if you hurt her... all the muscle in the world won't be able to help you, Tony. It's a promise, not a threat."
Gregory was silent, assessing Dom with a cynical smile. A part of Brian was awed that Dom could stay so collected, but a part of him also wondered if this kind of dangerous sparring wasn't a little too much fun for him.
"My employees will see you out." He wrote something down on a slip of paper and handed it to Dom. "I'll have Mia give you a call, since you're such a Doubting Thomas. How else can I convince you I'm still your friend?"
Dom worked his jaw back and forth, staring dully at Gregory, before glancing at Brian and jerked his head in the direction of the door.
They left out the back way, and when they went to the front drive, Dom asked the valet to just give them the keys and tell him where the car was. As they walked down the hill, Brian asked, "Do you want to tell me what all that was about?" He pointed at his chest. "All that queer racers shit? Is he a fag?"
Dom made a face. When they got to the car, he opened the door and leaned on the roof. "Tony's... what's that word? Omnivorous. Get my point? Likes chicks best, especially really underage chicks, but he also likes guys, and you're just his type. He'd make it a point of interest, do you understand?"
"No Mia unless..."
"You really want to be his toy in this game?"
"He seemed interested in you, too. Playing you. What was that about? It didn't seem to even faze you."
"It's just his thing. He likes trading on his reputation for damage. People have disappeared after spending time with him. Most of the time he's coked up and out of control. He thinks it'll freak me out and put me off balance."
"So the only way you could get him to leave off was to play faggot?"
Dom shot him a glare and slid inside.
Brian got in the car and turned on the engine. "Okay, so you saved my precious ass. But what makes you think if he's that... casual about shit, you can trust him to deliver on this? Or that he hasn't done something to her?"
"He's got this weird code, or what he thinks is a code. It's why I said you were my mechanic and you were taken -- he'll keep his hands off if he thinks you're spoken for. This old-country shit about respecting your enemy's property until you have to wipe them out. Then you rape all their women, burn all their land. They're insane."
"That's not what I'd call old-country. That's like Old Testament or something."
"I told you he was a sick fuck."
"But a sick fuck with a code." Brian shook his head, not entirely certain he believed all this. "Jesus, it's like we're talking about Keyser Söze or something."
"Now you're getting it."
"We gotta get the wires back." He slid his hand up under his shirt, pulling his own off, slipping it in the chest pocket. "At least now they've got him on tape admitting he has her. It's not much, but it's something."
Dom just slid his sunglasses on. He'd grown sullen now that they were coming away from the situation, now that the adrenaline of fear had dissipated.
"So... what do we do next?" Brian asked.
He turned his gaze out the window. "We wait."
End Part 5
1/31/05
My gorgeous cover art by M'lyn. Please do not take or distribute in any way.