When Mia and Letty had insisted she join them for their monthly girl's night at Letty's apartment, Mara had been wary. Three margaritas and one chick flick (Mia's choice) later, she was glad she'd given in. She'd never really had girlfriends. Growing up it was always just her, Rome, and Brian. Then it was her fellow feds. Then, briefly, it was the crew that had abandoned her.

A small clang in the shop below had Mara almost immediately sobered as she jumped up and dug her gun out of her bag before Letty or Mia even thought to move. There was no way in hell anyone should be in the shop at 3 in the morning when no one had even gone home until 1.

Mara had eased to the bottom of the stairs before Letty and Mia appeared at the top of them. They both had unreadable expressions on their faces, and Mia opened her mouth to say something, but Letty laid a hand gently on her shoulder and shook her head, and steered her back into the apartment. Mara waited to hear the door click closed and took a deep breath before she steadied her gun and swung out into the shop bay.


Letty closed the door and leaned back against it with a sigh.

Mia looked at her in confusion, "What if she shoots him?"

Lett chuckled, "She won't."

"You sound sure."

"I am. She's not the type to shoot first."

Mia nodded, somewhat reluctantly conceding the point.

"Besides, this is getting ridiculous. She should know."

"That I can get on board with." Mia agreed enthusiastically.


Dom cursed as he dropped the wrench and prayed no one heard him. Well, no. He prayed Mara didn't hear him. Letty and Mia knew he was there. Unfortunately, Mara still had the instincts of a cop and convict, and by the time he straightened back up from picking up the wrench and turned around, he was staring down the barrel of a .45.


Mara lowered her gun quickly at the sight of Dom. The only thing that kept her from dropping it completely was years of training and habit. She flipped the safety on and shoved it into the back of her jeans, knowing her expression was probably almost comically shocked.

"What the hell, Toretto?"

Dom quirked an eyebrow, all cockiness.

"And do not give me some bullshit line about this being a free country, or about how a man can be in his own shop whenever he wants. What are you doing here?"

Dom shrugged, "I plead the Fifth?"

Mara narrowed her eyes and looked around the shop. The only light on in the entire shop was on the workbench under the stairs. She stalked around Dom toward it and stopped dead at the sight beyond the open door of the storage space under the stairs. A twin sized bed had been shoved into the space, and a few neat stacks of clothes were folded underneath it.

She spun on Dom, "Tell me I'm wrong." she demanded.

"About what?" Dom asked casually.

"You are not pulling a Harry Potter so I can have my own room."

"A Harry Potter?"

Mara rolled her eyes, "Don't change the subject. Why the hell are you sleeping on a bed there's no way you even fit on under the stairs in the shop?"

Dom looked as sheepish as she'd ever seen him.

"Dom…" she said warningly.

He shrugged, "You needed a place to stay."

"What does that have to do with you sleeping under the –" Mara cut herself off as comprehension dawned, "You put me in your room." she breathed, leaning back against the work bench.

Dom sat on the stool in front of her, invading her personal space, but she didn't notice. She closed her eyes and ran her hands through her hair, "Why?"

Dom chuckled, "Didn't think you'd be down for sharing a room."

"Dom, seriously, why?"

Dom sighed, "You needed a home."

"I could've slept here." Mara gestured toward the stairs without opening her eyes.

"You could have." he conceded.

"But?"

"But this isn't a home. This is a bed. If we would have set you up here, you would've felt like a charity case."

Mara opened her eyes slowly to meet Dom's. When she saw nothing but sincerity there, she nodded, "Okay, but you will be back in your own bed tomorrow. Hell, tonight. It's not like I'm using it right now. Do you even fit on that thing?" Mara asked gesturing toward the twin bed.

Dom chuckled, "Not really."

Mara shook her head in exasperation, "Idiot."

And suddenly Mara was aware of just how close Dom was; his knees were practically bracketing her hips. Before she could stop herself, Mara leaned forward and kissed him. It was soft, innocent, and quick.

She pulled back before he had time to decide whether or not to kiss back and whispered, "Thanks." before fleeing back up the stairs.


Not that he would ever admit it, but Dom almost felt like he was intruding as he stepped into Mara's – his? he wasn't sure – room. For as little as she had brought with her – just the backpack she'd been released with and one duffel bag that Brian had picked up along with her car – she had managed to entirely take over the room. It wasn't necessarily messy, but it was definitely cluttered, a lot like Brian's space – except for the garage, both of them kept their tools meticulous – always seemed to be. Clothes were randomly strewn, folded, or piled all over the room; random car magazines were stacked and spread across the bed and nightstand; a few pictures of younger versions of her, Brian, and Rome lined the dresser; the bed was rumpled.

He shook his head with a wry grin before he unceremoniously flopped back onto the bed. He immediately winced and sat back up, rubbed his head with one hand and reached under the pillow with the other, only to draw it back out holding a 9mm.

"Paranoid woman." he muttered as he set it on the nightstand.

He settled back against the pillow again and closed his eyes, and scents of engine grease, gasoline, saltwater, flowers – roses, he thought absently – and something distinctly Mara drifted up around him, as he debated whether or not he'd actually get any sleep, even as his eyes slipped close and he gave into the exhaustion that had plagued him recently.


Sean made his way toward the front door, coffee in one hand and Jack in the other. He didn't realize the dilemma of that until he got to the door and the knocking became more insistent.

"Uh… who is it?" Sean yelled through the door.

"Rona Kimble." a woman's voice answered.

"Who?" Sean asked.

"Mara's parole officer."

Sean cursed quietly, then flinched and looked down to make sure Jack was still sleeping. He was. Growing up in this house, the kid could sleep though anything. "Look, I'm sure this goes against some kind of protocol or something, but my hands are full and the door is unlocked if you wanna let yourself in."

"You're right about it violating protocol." Rona answered wryly.

"Promise I ain't gonna shoot you or nothin'. I've got a sleeping kid in one hand and hot cup of coffee with nowhere to set it in the other."

"Alright. Stand back. I'll open the door, but I'm doing so with my gun drawn." Rona answered hesitantly.

"Fair enough." Sean said, as he stepped backwards.

The doorknob turned and the door swung open. Sean kept his attention focused on the gun, and angled his body so that he was between the woman and Jack.

Rona's eyes swept the entry and Sean quickly before she holstered her gun and turned a bright smile toward him, "Sorry about that. Better safe than sorry."

Sean grinned easily, shifting so he was facing her head on, "I get it, comes with the territory."

"Rona Kimble." she said and held out her hand.

Sean cocked an eyebrow and his grin widened.

Rona dropped her hand and Sean would have sworn she blushed, but her complexion made it hard to tell, "Right, full hands. Sorry."

Sean chuckled, "It's all good. I'm Sean. Nice to meet you, Officer Kimble, Mara seems to like you well enough."

"Rona's fine. And… thanks?" she replied uncertainly.

"It's a compliment."

"Alright."

"So… you lookin' for Mara, I'm assuming."

"Yeah, we have an appointment at 9 tomorrow, but something came up and I'm going to be out of town and I was hoping we could switch it to today. I tried to call, but her phone was off, and I was in the area, so I thought I'd just stop by and hope she didn't mind."

"Well, living room is through there." Sean nodded. "Make yourself comfortable and I'll see if I can find her."

Sean took the stairs slowly, careful not to jostle Jack too much. There wasn't a more loved kid in all of L.A., but he was a handful, and everyone breathed a little easier when he was napping. He used his coffee mug to tap on the door, and almost dropped it when Dom answered the door seconds later. A smirk showed up on his face before he could stop it.

"Mara's at the shop." Dom told him before he could manage any smartass remark.

Sean grimaced, "Well, in that case, someone better call her. Her parole officer is here. And seriously… damn. Why were none of my parole officers that hot?"

Dom raised an eyebrow.

"Seriously, Dom. Dark skin, long legs, and damn those green eyes." Sean shook his head.

Dom chuckled, "If your thoughts are going to keep going that direction, kid, I'd suggest putting a shirt on… and changing into some looser pants."

Sean blushed furiously and grumbled his was back down the hall, Dom at his back.

Dom ignored the cop in the living room and headed straight out the back, keys in hand.

Sean walked into the living room and Rona looked up expectantly.

Sean shrugged apologetically, wincing when Jack stirred, "Mara's at the shop already."

Before Rona could answer, Jack's head jerked up and he started fussing loudly.

Sean turned his attention to the toddler, "Hey, little man. That ain't no way to greet a pretty lady." Sean winked at Rona. Jack pouted up at him, but his fussing quieted to a small pout as Sean bounced him gently.

"You're good with him. He yours?" Rona asked quietly.

Sean grinned at her, "Nah. Brian and Mia's. Haven't you read our files?"

Rona smirked at him over her shoulder as she headed toward the door, "What files?"

Sean chuckled a bit. "I could get used to her being around." he told Jack when the door closed behind her.