Weird friendless kid

'This guy…' Letty begins, waiting for Shaw to interrupt. She knows how much he likes that. Shaw loves to be specific – details are everything – and he seems to love being rude even more.

'Toretto,' he interjects.

'Yeah. He doesn't seem like the type to let shit go,' she points out. Shaw eyes her. He has a predatory, wolfish grin forming on his face. It's probably supposed to frighten her. That's another thing he enjoys: attempting to scare her. He hasn't succeeded yet.

'He isn't,' Shaw eventually agrees. Letty wipes the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand. It's only when she glances at her hand that she notices that it isn't exactly spotless. Streaks of motor grease coat her skin from fingertip to elbow.

'Dammit. And I'm still here because…?'

Shaw leans in. Letty responds by demonstratively not backing away. Instead, she crosses her arms and cocks her head to the side. Your move, dickhead. He chuckles. The sound of it sends chills down her spine. She wonders if she has always been like this, getting turned on by being in the presence of danger. Maybe. Maybe not.

'I'm not following.'

'Toretto and his crew are going after us because of me. Seems to me that if you get rid of me, you get rid of him. We're all cogs, remember? Replaceable.'

He doesn't move a muscle. Merely seizes her up, appreciative. Letty smirks.

'Now, I'm good, but I'm not that good. Unless you've got some other reason for keeping me around,' she teases. The suggestion hangs in the air between them. And just like that he's lost interest, judging by the bored expression on his face. He saunters away, pausing to set her straight.

'I apologise if I have given you the impression that I care about you. I don't.'

'Glad we got that cleared up,' Letty mutters while she rolls her eyes. After cleaning her hands as best she can, she focuses on the engine again.

'I don't care if you die, but I wouldn't mind fucking you first,' he explains, suddenly close. His voice is as icy as his breath on her ear is hot. Slowly, Letty turns around. There's barely enough room to do so. Another intimidating tactic. She simply stares at him through narrowed eyes.

'What were you like in high school? A weird friendless kid, I bet.'

He doesn't smile. Not that she expected him to, but it would have defused some of the tension. Except, of course, Shaw wants her tense. He actively strives to make their social interactions as awkward and uncomfortable as possible. Everything to put her at a disadvantage. It's not working, since she doesn't give a shit about feeling on edge. It makes her feel alive.

Letty turns her back on him. Not an easy feat in the space available. She can practically feel the anger at this deliberate snub vibrate off of him. With a clear view of the car's innards, she bends over anyway. Let's see how he'll handle this.

'Tempting offer, but no thanks,' she says.

There's silence behind her and then his hands are on her hips. They've got a good grip too. Possessive. Aggressive.

'It's not an offer.'

'Believe me, it is,' Letty counters, amused. Tilting back a little bit, Letty aligns their bodies. It's unnecessary to look over her shoulder to gauge his reaction: she can feel that he likes it. Meanwhile, she's already thought of six different ways to make him regret standing so close.

'What will prevent me from taking what I want?' he asks, his voice a low whisper. His bulk pins her down, effectively trapping her between the car and his body. Letty closes her eyes for a moment and relishes the feeling of the muscles pressed against her back. White hot desire courses through her veins. She could ride him into oblivion.

'You could try, but I wouldn't recommend it.'

Shaw growls and releases her. Her heart beats in her throat until he steps back. She arches her back provocatively, before turning around.

'Look at us. The blunt instrument and the dull tool. You get a sticker if you guess which one you are,' she mocks. To her surprise, he laughs. There's none of that alpha male macho bullshit to it. It's genuine.

'So, next time?'

The fact that he's half-asking and half-demanding is so fucking perfect that she almost gives in right then and there. With some effort, she restrains herself. She even manages to lace her reply with some contempt.

'Yeah, maybe.'

The end.

(***)

Author's note: Reviews are always welcome.