Thanks for the reviews! I wasn't at all satisfied with the last chapter, so this one is EXTRA LONG! The scene on the balcony has been in my head for weeks now, I'm so glad to finally be able to bring it to you. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

ALSO, there are quite a few references to Justin Lin's "Better Luck Tomorrow," starring SUNG KANG as HAN. Watched it recently, it was excellent and I totally recommend it; it's available on iTunes. It totally inspired a couple parts of this chapter, as well as some interesting moments pertaining to the future of this story. :]


Kaiya Wu threw her dishtowel down as the clock struck eight p.m., bringing an official end to one of the most dull shifts of her life. It was eight o'clock at night in Tokyo's Narita International Airport, and she was more than ready to get home. It was a race night, and Matsu was supposed to race. Maybe he'd notice her tonight…

"Kaiya!" Amaya, the other part timer at the souvenir shop exclaimed. "I just got a text from Hoshi. Guess who just got off a plane?" she asked in rapid-fire Japanese.

She shrugged. "Justin Timberlake?" she guessed randomly.

Amaya rolled her eyes. "No, Kai. Han!" she revealed excitedly.

Kaiya gasped. "Really?" Sure, neither of them had ever actually spoken to the handsome Asian-American before, but absolutely everyone knew who he was. He was a celebrity in the underground racing scene, and everyone who was anybody kept up with his actions.

"Yeah," Amaya confirmed. "Hoshi's helping him with his bags, and Jiro is pulling his car around. He said someone dropped it off earlier today.

She kept one eye trained on the milling travelers as she clocked out. Sure enough, the familiar, mysterious, sexy face of Han was spotted about a head above the rest of the crowd, thanks to his taller than average height. His arm was slung around a petite American girl's shoulders. As they leveled with the souvenir shop, Han leaned down and said something into the blonde's ear. She smiled.

Kaiya grabbed her phone immediately and snapped a picture of the pair. She couldn't wait to tell everyone Han was back… and that he wasn't alone.


The ten hour flight from L.A. to Tokyo was fairly uneventful. The food was bad, the in-flight movie was bad, and the constant yammering of the couple seated behind Lindsey and Han (in Japanese, no less, so Lindsey couldn't even eavesdrop) was just… bad. Lindsey spent most of the flight asleep on Han's shoulder. A few inappropriate jokes about the Mile High Club later, the plane touched down without incident.

As soon as they arrived at the terminal, Han slipped a secure arm around Lindsey's waist. They ambled along casually while everyone else pushed, shoved, and chattered their way through the crowds. Lindsey's eyes darted around constantly as she took in her first Japanese experience; everyone she saw was like a life-sized figure out of those Asian comic books she always saw people reading. It didn't take her long to realize that her blonde hair, blue eyes, and tanned skin stuck out like a Camry among Lamborghinis here.

Han steered her along, muttering little details about their surroundings in her ear as they walked. She smirked as he leaned down to speak directly into her ear; he was a few inches taller than pretty much everyone else at the airport. As usual, however, he carried himself with an air of casual elegance and nonchalance, his expression set in his traditional indifference.

They easily made their way through the baggage claim and out of the airport, thanks to a teenage guy in an airport uniform already having their bags ready. As they reached the curb, Han walked directly over to a blue and orange Nissan Silvia parked in front of the exit. The bag boy and the valet loaded the bags into the trunk. Han tipped them both. Two girls exited the terminal together as he opened the car door. The first one nudged her companion, and they both sent him flirtatious looks.

As he climbed into the Silvia, Lindsey shook her head and grinned. "What?" Han asked curiously.

"You cannot have fan girls in more than one country," she said, amused. "It's unfair."

He grinned. "It's different here than in L.A.," he shrugged. "You'll see. We're gonna be very well taken care of here."


As Han easily dealt with the nighttime traffic, Lindsey watched the busy streets of Tokyo pass by in a blur of people and lights. The soft sound of bass and Japanese rapping pulsed through the car, posing as a soundtrack for her first drive through the beautiful city. After a few minutes, Han turned onto a narrow street lined with high brick buildings.

She probably wouldn't have even noticed the small alleyway if Han hadn't turned into it next, stopping the car in front of a single garage door set in a huge wall of brick and aluminum. He pressed a button on the roof of the car and the garage opened slowly. He glanced over at her, then pulled the car inside.

Lindsey felt her mouth fall open in surprise as they parked inside a huge two-story garage, complete with lifts and a loft high above the main workspace. Cars of every make were parked around the floor, surrounded by boxes and boxes of car parts and chests of tools. It was like a mechanics wet dream come true.

"Wow," she said simply, drawing each letter into its own syllable, adjusting the strap of her huge black purse on her shoulder.

He smirked again. "This is it," he said, shrugging.

"This," she repeated as she climbed out of the car. "Is your garage?"

He climbed from the Silvia and nodded casually. She laughed lightly. "Dom's never been here, has he?" she assumed with a grin.

He shook his head. "No, why?"

"Because, I think it'd leave him feeling completely inadequate. He may never recover from the shock," she teased. "This place is great."

Han shrugged. "It does the job," he shrugged modestly.

"Do I get the grand tour?" she asked enthusiastically, her steps already drifting toward the cars parked on the floor of the garage.

"Not right now," he shook his head. "Come with me."

"Where are we going?" she questioned, curiosity coloring her voice. She followed him into the loft, past a lounge area, and through a door.

"To change," he answered vaguely, guiding her through a hallway and down another set of stairs.

"Don't we need our luggage for that?" she reminded suspiciously.

He smirked. "No, we're in a hurry. We're not gonna be in Tokyo for long, you know," he revealed. He opened a door and flicked on the light. "The clothes on the bed should fit you. I'll meet you back here in ten minutes," he said, shutting the door behind her.

"Oh-kay…" she agreed needlessly, turning around and walking over to the bed. A black, mini sweater dress was laid out on the aqua comforter, and a pair of high heeled black boots were neatly placed nearby in the floor. A handwritten note was placed next to the dress. It read "Welcome to Tokyo! Use anything you need!"

Lindsey raised an eyebrow, then quickly undressed. As she put on the sweater dress, she looked at the framed pictures that decorated the walls and every free surface in the sizeable room. Most of them were of an exotic, dark haired girl and a white guy with a toothy grin.

Reaching into her purse, she grabbed her makeup bag. After a quick touchup, she sprayed on some perfume and smoothed her long blonde hair. Han was waiting for her when she exited the room.

He'd changed into a pair of jeans and an open white button down over a plain, v neck white cotton tee. A black velour blazer was thrown over his arm. He didn't say anything about her outfit, but his eyes lingered appreciatively in all the usual places. She smirked, and he slipped an arm around her waist, leading her back the way they'd come. Typical Han; mysterious and vague.

They climbed into a black and yellow '72 Skyline, and Han sped through the streets of Tokyo. After a few minutes, he pulled the car off of the street and into an underground parking garage. They guy manning the gate nodded at him with a smile as he drove inside.

"Welcome to Tokyo," he remarked smoothly, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly as she watched the scenery pass by. She'd never seen so many unique high performance cars or crazy outfits in one place, and that was saying something; she'd been going to races in Cali since she was about fifteen.

"I feel like I'm at the fuckin circus," she joked quietly.

He snickered appreciatively, slotting the Skyline between a RX-8 with a black and aqua fade and a classic 67 Mustang. As he cut the engine, a crowd of people swarmed the car excitedly.

"What the hell?" she asked, her eyebrows arching. "You really do have a fan club, don't you?"

He smiled and climbed out of the car. He was instantly met by three scantily clad Japanese girls. One handed him a beer and another handed him a little bag of snacks. All three of the bitches kissed him. Lindsey's eyes narrowed, and she slipped gracefully out of the car and swaggered around the car to stand at his side.

Han disentangled himself from the Skanky Sisters, as Lindsey so cleverly internally dubbed them, as another wave of people approached. A black guy with braids and a friendly smile grasped his hand and bumped shoulders with him. "Han, my man, it's about time you kept it real and came back home," he said excitedly. "You won't even believe the offer I got for you. It's somethin every real playa should be in on, forreal, and-"

"Jesus, Twink," a deeply Southern accent cut in. "Let the man breathe for a minute."

The voice belonged to the white guy Lindsey had seen in the pictures she'd looked at earlier. He quickly gave Han a manly, one armed hug. The pretty girl with dark hair from the pictures held his other hand, and was smiling widely at Han. "I'm so glad you're back!" she exclaimed in an exotic accent. "I need help keeping these monkeys in line!"

"Yo, who you callin a monkey?" the first guy asked, looking at her with amused disapproval. "Only monkeys around here are those two," he pointed at two thin Asian kids standing nearby, engaged in discussion over a laptop.

"Shut up, Twinkie!" the girl with bangs shouted, glaring at him. "Hi, Han," she greeted as an afterthought.

"Han, will you please tell Reiko her ideas for the graphics on my new car are all wrong?" the guy next to her asked. "She's been bitching about them all day!"

Lindsey smiled. Their energy was infectious, and it was very obvious that Han was the center of their tight-knit group. She wondered, fleetingly, if the Toretto team compared for him, or if he always missed the people in front of him now.

Han inclined his head, silently telling her to move closer to him. She did as she was asked, triumphantly sidestepping Skank Sisters One and Two as she went. "This is Lindsey," he introduced. She mimicked his casual stance, leaning against the Skyline at his side.

"Lindz, this is Sean, Neela, Twink, Earl, and Reiko," he listed, nodding at each one in turn. "They work at the garage."

She grinned as he skipped the Skank Sisters. "Hey," she greeted smoothly. The crew all offered her a few words in return, and Neela immediately hopped over to her.

"I was so worried Han would get your sizes wrong," she revealed conspiratorially. "But you look great! Did you find everything you needed?"

Lindsey grinned. "Yeah, it was fine, thank you."

"No problem," Neela replied. "I was in such a hurry before we left earlier, I was afraid I'd forgotten something. I like the girly stuff, but I'd always much rather be at a race."

Lindsey giggled. "Girl, I already know," she responded enthusiastically. "Isn't it such a pain in the ass to have to keep up with the chasers every night?"

The two girls quickly became engrossed in their conversation about how annoying racer chasers were, and the guys started talking shop off to the side. A few minutes later, someone told Sean he'd been challenged to a race.

Lindsey moved back to Han as Neela wished her boyfriend good luck, looking at him for an explanation. "Sean's DK," he said. "Drift King. He's the best drifter in the city, and he constantly has to defend his title," he clarified, opening his muchies.

Lindsey held out a hand. He dropped a couple into her palm casually. "So now they're gonna race their little cars with their little engines in an epic battle for bragging rights?" she predicted.

He grinned. "Yeah, something like that."

As the race fans pressed closer to the drifters' path, Han and Lindsey remained leaning nonchalantly against his car, snacking. Han occasionally commented or explained something while the race was set up. Finally, Sean and his Thai challenger met at the starting line. Two of the three Skank Sisters counted them down. Lindsey smirked, looking bored.

By the time Sean and the kid drifted around their second turn, however, Lindsey was watching the race anxiously and admirably. A gasp tore from her lips as Sean's bumper slid around the turn only centimeters from the concrete wall of the garage, sliding into a straightaway just in time. "Oh my God," she exclaimed nervously, craning her neck as the cars sped up to the next level.

Han laughed, casually guiding her toward the elevator with the rest of the monkeys. The local girls all eyed the arm around her waist with contempt. Lindsey smiled back sweetly.

They awaited the end of the race at the top of the garage, standing amidst the cheering crowd as the Sean skidded to a stop after drifting up the winding tower. Lindsey whistled lowly as smoke rose from the pavement below the Mustang's Toyos, shaking her head as he climbed victoriously from the car.

"You can do that, can't you?" she asked, tugging on Han's hand. He nodded slightly, smirking. "Teach me," she requested eagerly, her blue eyes pleading with him.

"Maybe one day," he smirked.

"You were really good about gettin away from that Civic today… or… yesterday…" she frowned. "Did someone here teach you?"

He shook his head no, and she looked at him in surprise. "I didn't learn to drift here. This is just where I perfected my technique," he explained. "Then I taught Sean everything he needed to know," he revealed cockily.

She shook her head, hiding her smile. "Arrogant."

"Confident," he corrected. "I'll practice with you," he promised. "If you're good," he added with a smirk.

She rolled her eyes. He chuckled, and they made their way back toward the Skyline as the fans all raced to the after party.


Lindsey downed the rest of her Miller Light, looking over the bottom of the bottle darkly as yet another skank laughed and flirted with Han. After they'd arrived at the party fashionably late, he'd been whisked away by one, two, or ten bitches at a time who were eager to "catch up" on his life. Lindsey was used to having his undivided attention, and she decided about two minutes into the night that sharing Han was not a good plan. It was decidedly unpleasant, actually.

Thankfully, Twink had rescued her almost immediately, leading her to a slightly buzzed Neela and Reiko. The beer was cold, the music was good, and there was plenty of dancing space in the center of the room. Lindsey was just starting to get into her element.

Sean returned to the group a moment later, carrying a handful of tequila shots. As Lindsey and Neela reached for their glasses, Kevin Rudolph's "Let It Rock" poured through the speakers. She grinned widely and threw back her shot, and decided in a split second that Han could do whatever, or whomever, he wanted. She was going to have a good time with him or without him.


After a few more minutes of dancing with Neela, who was turning out to be an absolute blast, Lindsey felt someone slip up beside her and grab her Whiskey Sour. Turning around, surprised, she locked eyes with Han.

"Hi," she greeted, relaxed. "Havin fun?" she asked cheerfully. He shrugged nonchalantly, and she giggled. "Well, I am," she revealed, following him to the bar.

"I can tell," he smirked, sipping her drink as he leaned against the bar. "Whiskey Sour? Who the hell drinks this shit?" he asked, amused.

She glared at him. "I do," she replied superiorly, looking up at him. He remained quiet, but stared down at her, smiling again. She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze and changed the subject. "So, did you catch up with the fan girls?" she asked casually, gesturing to the models scattered around with her glass. Most of them were glaring intensely at her.

He nodded, smirking again. "I can't believe you got away," she mused playfully. "It had to break their hearts."

"They'll survive," he remarked carelessly, grabbing a beer. "They always do."

Lindsey shook her head. "You know, you don't have to keep such a good eye on me here. I'm not in any danger, I'm sure Neela and Twinkie can handle me," she said seriously. "I'll behave."

He looked at her doubtfully, and she added, "I will! You should get to do what you want."

"I am," he said simply, taking a drink of his beer. She blinked. "Anyway, I don't think you'll ever be good," he added, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

"Yeah, you're probably right," she added, looking up at him flirtatiously. "I'm just so good at being bad. Why fix what works?"

He grinned. "My point," he agreed, placing a hand on the small of her back. "I wanna show you something."

She grabbed a bottle of tequila as they moved away from the bar, and he raised an eyebrow at her. "What?" she asked innocently. "I'm thirsty."

He shook his head and led her through the crowds, stopping to talk to a couple people. Lindsey waited patiently, glued to his side, and watched him interact. He was always so cool and collected. She found herself musing over whether or not he'd always been like that as she finished her drink. She hadn't eaten very much that day, and she had a pleasant buzz going on as they continued moving through the crowds.

Eventually, they made it all the way out of the club. They walked down a hallway and into the garage, moved to the other side of the loft, and exited a door on the opposite side of the building.

Lindsey followed him out onto a large covered balcony overlooking a rooftop soccer field. The inky black sky stretched above in every direction, the moon and a faint spatter of stars shining down on the well-lit rooftop. "Impressive," she mumbled. She moved closer to him as a cool breeze swept through the air, ruffling her hair. Then, she spotted the end of the balcony, looking out on the city lights and the street so many feet below. She leaned on the railing, watching the people mill around in the busy intersection with fascination.

"It's gorgeous," she remarked softly. "How can you leave it?" she asked, looking up at him.

He moved to stand beside her, leaning against the railing and opening the bottle of tequila. He took a swig from the bottle and shrugged. "It gets old," he explained simply. He watched as the lights hypnotized her again, his eyes caressing the curve of her chin as her wisps of her hair blew lightly against her bronzed skin. She shivered lightly, and he shrugged out of his blazer and handed it to her.

"Thanks," she said, shrugging into in and slipping her hands into the deep pockets. She arched a brow as she pulled out his cigarettes and lighter from the right pocket. "I didn't know you smoke."

"Like a fuckin chimney in high school," he revealed. "I quit, but then I started again," he shrugged.

She smiled as she pulled a cigarette from the pack and lit it easily, inhaling the nicotine and letting it spread through her system. She passed it to him, and giggled a moment later.

"What?" he asked.

"It's hard for me to imagine you in high school," she commented, tilting her head and looking up at him. "What were you like?"

He shrugged again, flicking the cigarette. "Like I am now, I guess," he said. "Just… pulled a few scams, partied a lot. Worked on my car."

"What was your first car?" she asked eagerly.

He smiled fondly, a genuine smile, not a smirk or a half-hearted grin. "A '65 Mustang. Red. Perfect condition," he described, taking another draw off the cigarette.

"What happened to it?" she pressed, grabbing the tequila and swallowing a drink.

He sighed. "I sold it," he explained. "Too many bad memories."

She looked at him closely, nodded, and handed him the tequila. "You should keep that over there," she advised. "I'm drunk."

He chuckled. "A'ight," he agreed, passing her the cigarette.

She yawned loudly before inhaling the cigarette again, and he laughed. "You slept through the entire plane ride, how the fuck are you tired again?"

She shrugged, handing him the cigarette. "I don't know. You're a very comfortable pillow, though," she complimented, closing the distance between their bodies and leaning against his chest. He handed her the tequila and stood there comfortably, one arm around her, smoking the rest of the cigarette. "I can't believe you sold a mint 65 Mustang," she mumbled a moment later. "You're out of your fuckin mind."

He laughed lightly, then fell silent. A few minutes later he spoke again. "My cousin committed suicide when I was eighteen," he said suddenly. "I sold my car because it reminded me of him… Then I left the part of L.A. I grew up in and I never went back."

She stiffened in his arms, then relaxed against his chest again. "I'm sorry," she said simply.

He shrugged against her, tossing the butt of his cigarette over the railing. He reached down into his jacket pocket and grabbed the pack, pulling out another and lighting it up. "I changed everything that reminded me. Stopped smoking. I distracted myself," he revealed. "With cars, women… and I pushed the limits as much as I could," he said slowly. "I didn't really have much to lose, I guess," he added. "And then I almost died when my car blew up, and I realized that I'm a fuckin idiot. So I went home."

She turned in his arms, looking at him instead of at the view. "I don't think you are," she denied. "I think you just… didn't know how to deal," she explained, shrugging. "I don't think anyone knows how to handle losing someone they love. I didn't."

They stood there like that for a while. Han would smoke, she would drink, and then they'd switch. They were silent, both thoughtful and reflective. Suddenly, however, the door to the balcony flew open and Neela, Sean, Twinkie, Reiko, and Earl all stumbled outside. Neela turned the stereo on and she and Reiko started dancing. Twinkie and Earl headed out onto the field. Sean stopped and looked at Han and Lindsey oddly.

Moments later, Neela whisked a giggling Lindsey to the other side of the balcony, leaving Han with the cigarette, the tequila, and a smirking Sean.

"What?" Han asked dully.

"Figured you'd be with some model by now," he shrugged. "But you were out here."

Han nodded.

"With the girl you brought from L.A.," Sean added.

Han nodded again. "Yep."

"Since when do you smoke?" Sean added as an afterthought.

A few minutes later, the group gathered in the center of the balcony area, watching Twink and Earl chug down the rest of their beers. Han smirked and snickered a little. Twink sent him a challenging look. "Like you can do any better, playa."

Han arched an eyebrow and took the fifth of tequila from Lindsey. About a third of the amber liquid swirled in the bottom. Han raised the bottle in a toast, then downed the rest of it with a wince. "Holy shit," Lindsey remarked as he handed her back the empty bottle.

He put an unlit cigarette between his lips and raised the lighter to it, and she pulled his hand back down. "Han! Don't light that shit, you'll explode!"**

He chuckled, still pretty sober. "Come on, I'll show you where you're sleepin."

They bid the rest of the crew goodnight and ambled through the garage, easily avoiding the dwindling crowd inside. Han tossed his cigarette aside and dropped the tequila bottle in the trash as they reached the basement living area. He steered her to a door on the opposite end of the hall from Neela's room.

"This is it," he said, pushing the door open. The walls were chocolate brown, coordinating well with the ivory carpeting and tan bedspread. The comforter was pulled down, revealing chocolate cotton sheets and a ton of matching pillows. Her bags were beside the dresser, and her purse was on the nightstand.

"Who decorated?" she asked curiously.

He grinned. "Neela."

"I like Neela, she's sweet," she remarked, kicking off her boots a little clumsily. She crossed the room barefoot, bending down and unzipping her bag. "Turn around okay?"

He arched a brow. "Why?"

"I'm changing," she said obviously, holding up a pair of Soffe shorts and a cami.

He looked at her cluelessly. "Nothing I haven't seen before," he shrugged.

"Well you haven't seen mine, so turn around," she ordered. He chuckled, sitting on the bed and facing the opposite direction. "And no peeking."

When she was done, he went into the adjacent bathroom and brought back a glass of water and two Tylenol. "Here, take these," he said, appreciatively surveying her short shorts and skimpy top.

She downed the glass of water and he moved toward the door. "Wait, where are you going?" she asked, frowning.

"To my room," he explained slowly.

"Where's that?" she questioned, a dark look on her pretty face.

He smirked. "Right next door."

"You should just stay here," she suggested, sitting on the bed. "In case I can't find you later."

He raised an eyebrow. The thought was tempting… Being in a bed, all alone with a half dressed Lindsey was not a bad idea… "Not tonight," he sighed. "I'll never get the rest of them to shut the fuck up if I do."

"So?"

He smirked. "As much as I know you want me to stay," he said silkily. "I'ma be right there," he pointed to the left. "And you have everything else you need here. The bathroom's right there," he nodded to the right. "Do you need anything else?"

She shook her head. "No," she said. "Thank you. You're always so sweet to me," she said tiredly.

He winced. "Let's keep that between us," he suggested quietly. She smiled and stood up, closing the gap between them again quickly. Han felt her warm breath on his neck as she stretched to meet him, her warm body flush against his. He could feel the heat radiating off of her skin as the slight scent of vanilla teased him. She bit her bottom lip, sucking it into her mouth as she moved closer to his face; heat coursed through his body as he watched her soft, full pink lips come closer to his. Finally, he felt them touch his cheek softly but firmly, so close to his own lips…

Visions of grabbing her and claiming her lips with his own filled his head as desire slammed into him with the force of a semi. Quick flashes of her straddling his lap, her body glistening as she writhed over his body tantalized him; he could almost smell the hint of sex and sweat in the air as he watched his little seventeen year old seductress pull away. She smiled up at him provocatively, her blue eyes peeping out from under her lashes.

"Goodnight," she whispered lightly, stepping back toward the bed slowly. He let out his breath in a rush, panting to catch his breath as he dragged his heated gaze over her tanned, toned body once more. Locking his eyes on her, he smirked one last time and left.

He couldn't remember why he wasn't staying, but he was quite positive of two things. He wanted her… and when he finally had her, she wasn't leaving his bed for a week.


Thanks so much for reading! Leave a review, let me know what you think!!

Oh, and the asterisk-ed line (Han downing the tequila and Lindsey saying he'd blow up) was directly from Better Luck Tomorrow!