Title: Hearts In Handcuffs

Author: Desi

Summary: The one with the Feds. AU. Multi-chapter.

A/N: Based off of a prompt by [oceans-skies] over on tumblr! Just so you know, you're to blame for me writing this long ass story that will most likely become a series/multi-chapter fic! Also, loosely based off of the friendship/relationship between Paul and Charlie on USA's Graceland.

Prompt: a fluffy and funny DOTTY where everybody sees them and talk about them as a couple (even that they really aren't) but Dom and Letty keep telling them (and themselves) that they are only friends… with some benefits.

Special Agent Letty Ortiz unholstered her service weapon and pressed the magazine release, catching the magazine itself in her free hand. She slipped both into the small drawer of her nightstand and shut it back before pulling her hair from its ponytail and slipping out of her work clothes. The next step was a nice, hot shower to wash away the stresses of the day. It was a rare occasion when she didn't see much action. As an undercover agent for the FBI, things usually got pretty damn intense.

Stepping into the shower, Letty tilted her head back and let the water cascade down her body, starting with her hair. Forty minutes, a shampoo-rinse-repeat routine, and a shave later, the petite brunette left the warmth of the fogged glass encasement and back into her room. Shouting from downstairs caught her attention and she shook her head at her roommates. Dressing comfortable, volleyball shorts and a loose v-neck, she slipped on a pair of short fur booties and made her way down the stairs of the beachfront mansion, known to its occupants as The Ranch.

"Hey, hey. Kill all this noise, man. It's already past my bedtime."

"Letty!" The chorus of greetings from her five roommates made her smile.

"Come on, mama. Take this shot with us." DEA agent Roman Pierce insisted. He shoved a shot glass into her hand with a white liquid inside.

"Fuck that. This looks like come, bro. I'm not drinking that." Letty tried pushing the drink back toward him, but he wasn't having it.

"Ask him what he calls it." Special Agent Dominic Toretto urged.

All right, she'd bite. "Come In A Cup?"

"Very close. I call this shot a Sit On My Face."

The resounding laughter that went around their kitchen bar was always refreshing, but today, for Letty, it was much needed. She rolled her eyes and allowed Roman to hand her back the shot.

"Fine, let's do this."

ICE agent Elena Neves mentioned to Letty, "Just be lucky, you weren't home to try the Pitbull On Crack."

She and Letty were the only girls in the confiscated mansion. They were outnumbered by four guys, Roman Pierce, Dominic Toretto, Luke Hobbs and Brian O'Connor; DEA, FBI, Customs and ATF, respectively. The little band of misfits were some of their agencies' greatest undercover agents. They worked diligently, got the results they were expected to and they always - always - got their man, or woman in some cases. It was fate that the six of them had been thrust together in the enormous estate; from the moment The Ranch was deemed operational, they'd been the best of friends; between helping each other in their personal lives and assisting on each other's cases as needed, they just clicked.

"That actually sounds pretty good, Rome." Letty laughed.

"It was nasty as hell."

"Stop dissing my drinks. Otherwise you can find yourselves a new bartender." Rome held up his shot glass and the roommates followed suit. "To our own little island of misfit toys."

"Here, here," chimed Hobbs. Tapping the glasses together and then onto the bar, the group simultaneously knocked back the shot, each with a different disgusted face after swallowing.

"Never again, man. That was just as nasty at the Pitbull Doing Coke, or whatever the hell that was." Brian scoffed, walking away.

"That's Pitbull On Crack!" Rome shouted to his retreating back.

"Dom, can I see you in the phone room?" Letty inquired.

Missing the knowing looks shared between Elena, Hobbs and Roman, Dom nodded his consent and the two started towards the stairs.

The phone room was self-explanatory. Each agency was given their own line to conduct "illegal" business transactions. The calls were automatically recorded and saved for further references in their investigations, and the recordings covered their own asses in case they were ever accused of actual illegal activity.

"What's up, Ortiz?"

"I know you have your own shit to deal with, but I need a little help on this case I'm working on. Or maybe just some advice."

"Anything. Shoot."

"Remember Braga?"

"The drug and weapons dealer?"

"Exactly. I think he's running women, too."

"You think?"

The brunette paced in front of a desk, hands on her hips. "Yeah, I mean, it's just something he said, but I just… I need to get solid proof. If he is running women, there is probably a shipment out there right now. A bunch of scared woman or even girls that have no clue what's about to happen to them. I just-."

Dom stopped her from pacing, putting his arms on her shoulders and looking into her eyes. "What does your gut say? Do you feel there's a possibility that he could be running more than just drugs and guns?"

Stopping to truly consider this, Letty told him, "Without a doubt. This guy will do anything for money and power without giving a single thought to another human's life."

"Then, we'll get 'em. Maybe we can get Luke to pull some strings at the border if he's bringing them over from Mexico."

Letty nodded. "Thank you."

"Hey." Dom pulled her into his arms, her face buried in his chest. "You don't have to thank me. This is what we're here for, right?" He felt her nod. "We'll get this son of a bitch."

Letty pulled away just enough to look into his face. They stared at one another for a few moments before Dom leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. The kisses were soft and gentle at first, becoming more frantic and necessary as seconds ticked by. It only took a full minute before Dominic squeezed Letty's ass and lifted her onto one of the desks. She pulled at his belt, unbuckling it quickly. Dom lifted her shirt, kneading both breasts in his large, strong hands.

This was normal, easy. A hard case, a nice cocktail and eventually, one of them would approach the other for a roll in the sack. Admittedly, it had been a while since the last time. Two years to be exact. That was before Owen: Letty's "boyfriend". They were allowed to date, but they couldn't get too close. Telling a civilian what they did for a living was completely out of the question. It wasn't safe for either parties. But Letty had tried with Owen, until things went south.

Downstairs, Roman had persuaded Hobbs and Elena to do more shots. Brian had rejoined them after making a phone call to his superior. They lounged around the conversation pit in the living room.

"You think they're you know," Rome made an obscene gesture with his fingers, "again."

"What? They've never… done that." Elena replied, disbelief written all over her face.

"Oh, I'm sorry, my sweet, naïve Elena." Luke teased. "But Mom and Dad, up there, have definitely gotten busy in the past."

"But they wouldn't do it again, right? Maybe it was just a one-off." Brian added, leaning over to dig in the bag of chips that sat on the coffee table.

"Oh, please. They are so married. Mr. and Mrs. Alpha."

The foursome laughed at that. It was true, Dom and Letty had taken on the mom and dad roles that commonly came along with any group, especially those who lived together. They would never admit it, but the rest of the team saw the dynamic between the two of them.

"We've been here, what, five years? They wouldn't risk their friendship or their jobs for a wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am." Elena tried to reason with the guys.

"I don't know, man. I don't think this is a hit it and quit it situation," insisted Rome, "I think those two have more going on under the surface."

"Care to make a wager?" Luke propositioned.

All four of them leaned forward, lowering the volume on their conversation.

"We're listening." Brian said.

TBC.