Disclaimer: I don't own Fast & Furious, however the original character is mine.

Author's Note: Not my best work, but this one has been percolating for a while and I wanted to get something out for it. Hope you enjoy it.

~*4*~

The roar of engines grew louder until two cars careened around the corner and barreled toward the large crowd at the end of the street.

As the finish line came at him, Malcolm glanced toward his last opponent and gritted his teeth. In an '03 Nissan Fairlady Z, she'd kept him on his toes though the entire race, outlasting the other two racers.

They drew even as they approached the finish line and she pulled ahead slightly, just as they crossed the finish line.

Coming to a stop, Malcolm let his head fall against the head rest and closed his eyes. Damn. So much for the big payoff.

Opening his eyes, he gaped in disbelief as he saw his opponent, in person, for the first time.

Long dark hair pulled into a braid let him know his initial guess of gender was correct, jeans and a t-shirt reinforcing it, but she couldn't have been more than thirteen years old.

Pure fury rolled through him as he threw the car door open and got out, stalking toward the crowd.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" He shouted, several people looking up as he approached. "I bet she isn't even old enough to drive! Does Braga know about this?!" Fenix stepped in front of him, putting a hand on his chest to stop him and Malcolm pushed him off.

"Quit bein' a sore loser. She won, you lost, get over it." He heard people snickering and Campos shook his head, as Malcolm spotted Gisele getting the girl's fingerprint.

"Dude, this is messed up." He insisted. "I should get the spot…"

"But you didn't." Campos got in his face, irritation clear on his face. "Braga don't care about age, if she's the better driver. Leave, now."

Taking a deep breath, Malcolm clenched his fist and out of the corner of his eye, saw the girl walking back to her car. Stalking after her, he grabbed her elbow and she glanced back at him.

"Do you even have a license?" Brown eyes studied him warily and suddenly he felt a hand on his wrist, as she twisted his arm behind his back and slammed him against the car.

"It doesn't matter now." She said in a low voice. "Consider yourself lucky you didn't win."

Malcolm stumbled back as she let him go, not hearing the jeers of the crowd as he saw the look on her face.

It was hard to mistake the raw fear in her eyes and he swallowed hard. He nodded and walked back to his car. It would probably be a good idea to get out of here. Now.

~*4*~

The garage was dark, with a single light bulb for illumination and Campos smirked as he studied the small figure half hidden by the open hood of the car.

"You missed the party, chica." She stiffened slightly and he grinned, knowing exactly what was behind it.

"I'm not old enough to drink, remember?" She shot back, flippantly. "Besides, I'd rather be left alone."

Walking around the side of the car, he studied the engine.

"You modified this yourself?" He asked and she shrugged, keeping her gaze fixed on the car. "Nice work. Maybe I should hire you as a mechanic."

A snort had him looking at her as she smiled sardonically, finally meeting his gaze.

"You know that'll never happen." A raised eyebrow prompted her to continue. "Not when you're going to kill me."

"What would make you think that?" Campos asked, with an amused smile and she walked back to the work bench.

"I don't think, I know." Picking up a socket wrench, she faced him and leaned against the table. "Why else would you hire me for this run?" Chuckling, Campos leisurely walked toward her and she drew back slightly.

"You stuck your nose where it doesn't belong."

"You killed my friend." She stated, eyes hard. "I know Braga wants me out of the picture, and you may as well make a little extra on this one. Plus, it's easy to hide bodies in Mexico."

"You're a smart girl." Campos said, with a cold smile. "It's too bad you're a liability. Braga could've used you."

"Yeah, too bad." Sarcasm laced her tone and she smirked slightly, walking back to the car. "It's easy to run in Mexico too, you know."

"Good luck with that." Campos said, with a snort and walked to the door. "Have a good night."

As the door closed, she looked toward the passenger seat, where a small duffel bag was sitting.

"Good luck to me." She murmured, allowing the bravado to fade away.

No one could run from Braga. Not for long.