Brian was dressed in his cop uniform with a bag and a backpack of equipment that he always toted to and from work. He didn't expect to be using any of it today, not after his orders from Tanner yesterday to stay in the office. Being seen by Rome at Toretto's Market yesterday was one thing, but he was sure Rome wasn't going to keep it to himself about the race last night.

Brian got out of his metallic blue Mustang convertible in the covered parking lot at the precinct. His choice of vehicle, bought at auction years ago, was one of the hottest cars in the lot when he first started here. After he showed up with it and his good looks, old commuter cars started being turned in. Now the lot looked like a car show some days. Inspirational, Tanner thought now as he watched Brian make his way towards him. Brian kept offering to set him up with something, but Tanner hadn't quite got there yet to deciding to turn in his current vehicle.

Really, when he spotted Tanner standing alone in the shade it almost wasn't a surprise his sergeant was waiting for him. Sort of irritated Tanner.

"What are you doing with yourself, Brian?"

Brian chose to take the indirect path.

"I'm deskbound, Sarge. Right? Murder in an alley of a dock worker. I'm coming in to help Detective Grusza."

"You're on the FBI's case, now. I'll give you directions to their safe house. We'll have to hurry, the morning briefing is in twenty minutes."

Brian figured Rome seeing him race was one thing, that was cause for a phone call - maybe another visit in Tanner's office - but to lead him to the safe house…yeah, Brian was in deep now.

Tanner crossed the lot and went to the passenger side of his convertible, opening the door and getting in. First time Tanner sat in it. Remarkably roomy for a little thing. He was keeping his old Buick for the space…but this was nice. Brian noticed his sergeant run his hand over the passenger door, fingers curling around to feel the smooth paint, and stepped on the gas a little more, just to give his superior ranked officer a little better morning.

Across the country, another person was just waking.

She breathed deeply as she arose from sleep, her red hair tousled. A constant of her life was awakening before her alarm, and that held true. She reached over to the silent machine and pressed it off. Her soft bed and warm sheets weren't a terrible thing to leave behind, as her house was comfortable in the summer temperatures. She was drawn to her kitchen, the coffee machine, and a pile of files that her partner had asked her to look over for her opinion of them.

When her home phone rang, it wasn't unheard of, but she stared at the black phone with a minor level of worry. It wouldn't cause her to drop her coffee, though. She brought that with her over to it, passing the microwave clock on the way. 4:23.

She picked it up on the forth ring.

"Pack a bag, we're going to LA."

A deep sigh.

"I don't think you're joking."

She heard her partner smiling now, and movement rustling around him. Other voices. Was he already at the office?

"The FBI are already on a case down there. We'll meet up with them eventually, but I want to run through Tucson on the way in."

She interrupted him. "What's brought this on? I thought you said you couldn't get clearance for this case?"

"Something's happened during the night; I'll have the case file for you when you get here. There's no way the Assistant Director could deny this is now in our jurisdiction."

"I need something. You've got to give me a hint," she settled against the arm of a chair, sipping her coffee again.

Her partner stopped moving, that she could tell.

"It was the latest update from LA that they sent up about two hours ago. The agent in charge is Bilkins, although I've never met him. He wouldn't have crossed my radar except in his latest report, he's now got two of the local police officers working with him having connections to Tucson juvenile detention nine years ago. I told you this case needed a look."

And his grin was evident from the tone of his voice.

She rolled her eyes.

"Just because they were in Tucson at the time of that earthquake doesn't make them -"

"The officers are in their mid-twenties. They weren't staff, there. They were offenders. I already arranged our transport and itinerary to LA. So, pack a bag with at least a week's worth of clothes. There will be down time, too."

She looked by her doorway, where a large suitcase had been packed and waiting for this call for the past two weeks.

"Alright," she sighed wearily. "See you in an hour."

She wanted to hear his joyfulness, as it wasn't usually the situation that he approached a case like a kid at Christmas; so sure that something great was going to come of it. She denied him the opportunity to celebrate with her because then she'd be boxed into following his lead, leaving her little time to research how to prove him wrong. As, inevitably, he should be proven. It was the point of her employment as his partner to do this.

Writing the latest report last night drove Bilkins to drink, and therefore also caused the headache that morning. He was at the beach house they'd confiscated from a female drug dealer, with a room full of operatives waiting for him to go in there and chew some heads off for letting a damn LA cop screw with the case. Tanner's right hand in all this, Officer Muse, was particularly ready to see the new guy show his face, ready to get some kudos from Bilkins for laying into him. Bilkins wasn't opposed to the little offer. He had a feeling Muse, even though he was from the same precinct, wasn't as hot for O'Conner as Sergeant Tanner was, either.

But honestly, how could Agent Bilkins believe this really was a fuck-up anymore? He had a photo album proving the blonde cop had done a thorough job breaking into the Toretto crew, with even a zoomed in snap of him kissing the sister. It looked like good looks could really open doors. It was sickening, but helpful right now, because Roman Pierce wasn't doing as fine a job with that particular crew as he was with the rest of the street racers.

Roman had come in right after the race, spending the night in one of the many guest rooms in the place. He was sitting back that morning just waiting for the beating to start, staring at Brian like he was glad to see him on the butcher's block. As for Brian, he wasn't too worried. He had proved Bilkins wrong, that "criminals" could make friends with a cop. And if he didn't know it, then the look of pride on Tanner's face said it loud and clear that he was also glad to have Brian sitting here in the thick of it. It was a case he was made for, and the fact it had passed him over until now was tragic. He was proud Brian had made it work out so far.

"What's taking so long?" Brian asked.

"Smart mouth punk," Roman replied, just for the heck of it.

"This case is what you always wanted, Brian. Don't push those FBI guy's buttons any more than you already have."

Tanner's words were wise. Brian listened.

Bilkins finally came over. He wasn't looking too riled up, not like the other times Brian had seen him.

"Didn't know you were going in on Toretto in an illegal street racing vehicle," he began. "Was that your personal car that picked up Toretto and eluded the police, found later burning in a parking lot in Little Saigon?"

Bilkins then tossed down some of the photos in his hand, those of the burning wreck of his GT-R. Brian could still hear the automatic ammunition unloading, still see Dom running away from the fire. And he had to talk to Dom about that…you don't run from bullets, because they run faster than you.

Rome winced over photo of the burning vehicle. "This that GT-R? Oh, man…" he looked genuinely sad.

Tanner said icily, "I'm surprised a fellow officer knew about it?"

Rome tossed the photos away with a guilty look. Brian shrugged it all off. Yeah, Rome was around at its conception, but he hadn't stuck around long after that.

Bilkins tossed down more photos. Of Dom's house, of the party and him standing around the lot of them by the garage. Of his own house. Of him kissing Mia on his doorstep. So there was surveillance, and they'd followed him home.

"We know you were at their house and brought the sister back to your place. While you were sneaking around after dark, crime scene investigators were collecting bullet casings that were scattered around the pavement. They had some nice motorcycle tread, too."

Brian didn't look sorry, but there was regret there.

"Johnny Tran did that," Brian stated.

"Got any proof?"

"Have you got any proof? Those nut cases stood ten feet from the car when they opened fire, with Dom and me standing right next to it, too!"

"You're calling him Dom now?" Tanner asked quietly.

Brian almost felt like he was doing something wrong just then, which was stupid because he knew the rules as well as the rest of them.

"I lost it in the race with Dom anyway. Wasn't mine anymore by that point, which sort of is in our favor."

"What favor is that, Officer O'Conner?" Bilkins demanded.

Brian clarified. "Means I'd like to look at all the impound lots in the area. I owe him a car. He invited me over to work on it, too. After my shifts. On my days off. Wants me in his shop every spare minute I have."

"Fuck you," Rome said, totally hating on Brian right then. Leaning back, arms crossed, glaring.

"Don't get pissy," Bilkins said to Rome. "You're getting us intel on Tran and Hector and the other racers with the skill to pull this off."

"But the Toretto's are number one on the list," Tanner said for Brian's benefit as well as support for what he'd done. He didn't know quite how worrying his encouragement was for Brian, who hoped it wasn't really true that Dom and the others were doing this. "There's nothing saying the Toretto's are the ones for sure, but having you in with them is what the investigation was missing."

Still, Rome looked pissed, and that made Brian happy.

When she got to work, she pulled into her usual spot, but there was no way she could miss the hot red and yellow racing car that her partner stood next to while wearing a pair of new sunglasses. He was in casual attire with a few too many buttons undone.

She got out of her vehicle and shouted at him, "What the hell is this?"

"We're driving!" And wasn't he just bouncing with excitement. His hands displayed the car. "I wanted to tell you there would be a surprise but you hung up on me. Surprise!"

She glared at him.

"And look!" he walked across to her with a case file in his hand. "The case files for Agent Bilkins' case in LA. It's full of street racing and high-speed semi truck hijacking. Really exciting reading material. I thought we'd get into the mindset of the case and got this baby out of impound!"

She hadn't even opened the files. "We're driving to LA? That's across the country! How many days is that?!"

"You're starting to catch on," he said smugly, opening the door to her trunk and pulling out her luggage. "We've got time. The case isn't pressing."

If she knew anything, it was that his stubbornness could outweigh her own. She got into the passenger seat of that monstrosity. It was an eye-catching, shiny, souped up something-or-other. She had a feeling her partner had memorized the stats for it and was just waiting for the opportunity to spew them at her.

She took the report and flipped through them while they trudged through the morning rush-hour. She had to deal with people honking, people pointing, and the man's sitting next to her blazing smile as he waved back at the gawkers.

At last, she got to the latest update from Agent Bilkins that summarized the reason for their departure.

"So, two young men from Tucson juvenile detention decided to join the police force in San Francisco, and now they are both helping the FBI on this case? That's why the Assistant Director gave you the go-ahead for this?"

"Coincidence." It was almost like he wasn't asking, but was mimicking her very thoughts.

"Yes. It is."

He glanced at her while driving a good fifteen miles above the speed limit, because they'd made it out of the city. She didn't appreciate that.

He said, "They're alike. Perfectly alike. Striving to be different but on the same path since leaving the detention center. I want to find out who took on whose personality."

"That isn't what this is; you have no proof of it. With any of the cases you've scrounged up since starting your investigation into that area. Cases of mirrored personalities happen when two people grow up together. That's all this probably is."

He shook his head. "But this is a concentrated event focused around the people of that small area of Tucson and that prison."

"Juvenile Detention Corrections Facility. Not prison."

He waved her off. "Locking kids up for bad behavior. These two were bunk mates."

"Nowhere does it say that."

"It doesn't have to. They're on the same path. My crew in California - "

She laughed aloud, stopping him all at once. "Those three musketeers are helping you, really? You want to call them your crew?"

He tapped the paperwork in her hand. "I'm learning the lingo. You should, too."

She closed the paperwork and looked around her snootily.

"This car is way out of your league," and god, she knew she was being a pain in the ass. So she added, "but the head rest is nice."

"It's for stopping whiplash in the case of a crash."

"And you don't want to just take this trip on your own? I'll go back to my apartment and you just call me ten hours before you make port. I'll take a plane out. You can pick me up in Tucson when you get in."

He grinned again, shaking his head. "Settle in. I've brought some CDs and snacks."

She cringed before the music even started playing.

Bilkins set Brian up by an FBI sanctioned PC with a faster internet speed than he'd ever seen in his life, logged in and looking for what he'd want to pass along to Dom as his new car. Bilkins said they could do this Brian's way and Brian decided to make good on that.

It wasn't even two hours later that the perfect one was found, tucked away in an impound lot on the edge of LA, beat to hell but the front end was intact. It hadn't been submerged but it'd been lost over the edge of a cliff for a year and hadn't had a body decomposing in it, so it probably didn't smell and wouldn't need too much work to the engine.

"Send it over now," he said to the guy on the other end of the phone, having just given him directions to DT's, Dom's garage. They'd get it there before he got off at three if he didn't meet them at impound.

"You sure you want this one? It's a hunk of junk, officer," warned the man on the line who knew nothing about Toyota Supras, apparently.

"Yeah. This is the one. And hey…could you smudge a little note in the dirt on the driver's side door for me?"

That got the guy to chuckle. "Sure, what do you want it to say?"

The others were hard at work, Dom was just trying to shake Mia and her questions about the shop's finances. Too much and yet not enough was being paid for in cash. She needed him to cool it, but he had it handled.

It was around noon when the tow truck backed in, an orange hunk of dirty and busted metal and glass that surely had taken a swan dive off a cliff, probably right after hitting a deer considering the state of that windshield. The driver? That wasn't a question Dom wanted an answer for. There wasn't seaweed anywhere to be seen, but that was definitely a lot of bird shit.

"Oh, no way!" Denied Letty, who stood closest to the bay doors as she checked the air filter on a customer car.

Jesse, who had been welding a part, tore his helmet off and was racing to see more of what came into their lives.

Dom didn't see the cop, but he had a feeling this was maybe his handiwork. The driver of the tow truck sauntered up. He had a larger belly than figure, but he looked decent enough.

"What do you got there?" Dom asked the man.

"Delivery for Toretto!" Declared the loud tow truck driver, holding out a clipboard for a signature.

"Are we supposed to do something with this?" Jesse wondered, batting a fist against the thing to see if it was still kicking.

Dom and the others stood back as the driver went about lowering it to the ground. Before not long he waved goodbye and pulled out. The crew were all there and they were all staring at it from afar, only Jesse having the courage to get another close look again.

"Who sent it?" Leon asked.

"Didn't say," Dom said, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he stared down at it.

"Oh, look!" Jesse suddenly said, pointing eagerly.

Dom and the others went around, seeing a message written with a finger in the muck on the driver's side. Pop the hood, it said. Jesse was on it. There in the sunlight the hood was opened and suddenly it didn't all look like a loss to the kid. For Dom, it never really had.

Dom took out his phone and pressed the first button on speed dial. He'd yet to fix any the mess Brian had made to his keys. It rang twice.

"O'Conner." That familiar voice.

"This looks like a ten second car," Dom said into his cell with pride, pulling a look from everyone as they hadn't noticed him taking out his phone.

Dom wasn't there to see it, but he knew an instant smile bloomed on that cop's mouth. "Yeah, sorry I'm not there to see your face when you found that out. Can I come by when I'm off?"

"Anytime. You'll have to put the hours in for this wreck. Surprised you saw the potential here." Even Dom was grinning broadly, now.

"It's not about the body, Dom. It's about what's inside. I'm off for three days, you'll have me then."

"It's a little about the body, Bri," Dom corrected, grin widening. From all the work Dom put into his own physique, yeah, it was a little about the body for sure. "Today, too?"

A bigger smile on his end, too. Maybe Brian knew that. "Today, too! Dom, I gotta go. If you ring again, I'll pick up."

Dom took a breath, needing a moment to take that in. "Alright, Officer."

"Alright, Dom."

He hung up, but not quickly.

Brian also hung up, but not quickly. He looked up at the men crowding him. At Bilkins' and Tanner's approving smiles. At Muse's frown. He liked the appreciation, but he didn't like the spark of incendiary glee that lingered behind their eyes. He went on the defensive internally, hoping they were wrong about this case.

Brian was left in a room with Bilkins when Tanner, Muse and Rome went back to their jobs. He hadn't changed out of his uniform yet, but would need to by the looks of it. His uniform was making him sweaty even in the air-conditioning, but honest to god the place they booked was amazing otherwise. Terracotta and rugs, and it made him think of Mia telling him to decorate his place. But then he started thinking that the only necessary part of this house was the chair he sat in and the table he had the files laid out on. The water feature outside, the curtains that hardly blocked the sun, the appliances in the kitchen that littered the counter…it was all surplus and it made him rather uneasy.

Only the coffee maker was in use and only the TV was on, set to the news. Yeah, there wasn't much reason to have the rest. It was a luxury to even have that. Brian often kept it to himself how uncomfortable stuff made him. Rome was the same way. The few times Rome would let Brian come over to his place it was just as sparse, but more like a magazine print, really. Because Rome had visitors and Brian didn't. He figured if he did, they'd do what Mia did and tell him to decorate.

Brian was intent on the forms, especially on Dom and his crew. It was his first time seeing them. He read them cover to cover. There were documents of Dom's prison sentence, of fights he'd been involved in while on the inside, of trips to medical for fractured wrists and concussions - multiple occasions. Brian read that Dom hadn't instigated anything, wasn't involved in any gangs, was just a bystander caught up in it. He wondered if that was at all true. Dom was a model convict for the most part. Also smart. He said he wasn't going to get caught again…maybe that promise started way back then.

Two o'clock came around quickly and Bilkins told him, "You can get going, O'Conner. Toretto is probably waiting."

Brian shook his head, still pouring over the documents.

"I'll leave at three, if that's no problem. And," Brian looked up, looked around the place, too. There were two other FBI agents milling, going over other data. Probably data on other suspects.

"And what?" Bilkins asked.

"Could I take a shower?" He asked. "I should have used more deodorant. And I need to change out of my uniform."

Bilkins smiled despite himself. Over the course of the day, he hadn't expected to like the kid as much as he did. But he chatted openly about cars, the Toretto's, filling out forms diligently to cover all the work and intel he'd gotten so far. Not much, but enough. Bilkins was getting old for this job; rookies were starting to look endearing.

Not LAPD rookies, as Brian was past that. Bilkins couldn't help seeing this man fit in elsewhere in law enforcement, with other specialty teams who needed new blood. The - technically - MAPD officer, had a paper trail behind him that would have been a heck of a lot harder to hide than Roman Pierce - under the guise of Roman Spilner - not that that had anything to do with his first choice for the UC position. Brian O'Conner really was an enigma, somewhat hard to believe actually existed, really, now that Bilkins took a real close look at him. He was Metro Division on platoon D, Special Weapons and Tactics, when he wasn't cruising the streets as just another officer.

Bilkins was going over that paperwork, looking further into the reports he'd written for SWAT and all the other paper trails he'd left behind. He wouldn't tell the kid, but there was a real future ahead of him if he kept up this level of dedication.

After a shower, Brian changed into the backup clothes he'd packed and put on some of the spray-on deodorant he found in the medicine cabinet of the previous owner of the place's. It was girl stuff, but he'd not packed any in his gear. His hair dripped and also smelled more fruity than usual, but he knew by the time he got to Dom's it would be dry and curly and…yeah, he knew it'd smell frilly still. Little things like this were luxuries.

He parked on the roadside in front of DT's, taking long strides up the side of the building to the open bay doors where he could hear clatter. As he rounded the corner he stopped by the jamb looking in at both the bent over forms of Dom and Jesse as they scoped the engine he'd brought to them. They'd completely taken the hood off and left it leaning against the frame. Brian decided to just watch for a time, arms crossed and relaxed.

Elsewhere in the shop he saw Letty and Mia hanging out. Leon was on the phone and Vince's legs were hanging out from under not-your-average-grandpa's Dodge Ram. It was painted red and had black stripes down the front and some logo decals along the rim. All the cars in this place were higher performance. And the tools on the shelves and the parts lining the tables? Those weren't for regular cars either. Maybe they did a few of those, but this place had a specialty and the customers often came here for that.

Mia spotted him standing there looking in first.

"How was your day?" She called over amenably.

Dom and Jesse stood up and looked behind them, seeing she was calling out to someone there. Dom was sweaty, white wife beater soaked down the front. His coveralls taken down and dangling. Brian didn't leave the bay door jamb, but he found himself settling his weight back on his feet when faced with attention.

"Paperwork. Typical calls. No fights, no weapons drawn. A good day."

"You know what," Jesse said to him, distracted by his own thoughts and not really registering that he'd just heard a cop casually talk about his day, "fifteen grand, maybe more…this will decimate. Dom and I have been going over ideas…it's going to be a thing of bea-uty."

Brian grinned, believing him. This car was for Dom so of course it was going to be a beauty.

"I don't think you got fifteen grand, do you?" Dom wondered with a smirk, knowing the answer probably.

Brian's smile faltered a minute amount, but the spark in his baby blues glinted brighter. He may not have it in his bank account…but he was good enough to earn it. Yeah, Dom wouldn't have guessed anything less.

"Got to get you racing again. There's a show down in the desert called Race Wars. It's legit, Officer," and here he started fidgeting with the tool he had in his hand. "Wouldn't want to drive around with my hand slapped over your face at more illegal races, would you?"

A flash of amusement. "Dunno, Dom. That was pretty fun."

"Whaaa…?" asked Jesse, faltering again as the complexities of these two became too much.

Dom was looking at him like, yeah, he was bigger than just a man. It did make Brian's stomach jump a little, but it didn't make fidget.

"Race Wars. The place to ride and not run from those boys in blue. You know I want you here when you're not chasing down criminals with a gun on your hip. Jesse," he turned to the youngest person in the room, "make a list. We'll get Mister San Francisco his parts and he'll put her together."

Brian's smile got wider and he was staring. Knew it. Liked it.

"Got something on my face?" Dom asks unhesitating.

"Am I starring?" the coyness was back.

He was definitely staring.

Jesse took two steps away. Even Vince pulled himself out from under the truck to glare at the two of them. Dom caught sight of all this, too. He couldn't back down, though, not with Brian standing there like that - like if he was in uniform he'd be bigger than the fucking universe, but even not in uniform…yeah, he was pretty big.

"You think you're just going to make moves on me? No repercussions?" Dom asked, secure in his statement and humored by the moment. He was still grinning at Brian. Dom wasn't pretending there wasn't anything there and that meant more to Brian than anyone may have thought. He was use to caginess. Use to swagger and defensive precautions. This felt nicer. This crew were all on each other's side and had nothing to gain from hurting any one another.

Brian lifted his chin, shaking his head and letting his hands drop finally. He could be honest, too. Just like them.

"It's not me making the moves, Dom. You've offered me your tools, to race, to have a place to spend my down time. You're the biggest flirt I've ever seen. Don't knock me if it's working like a charm. You found all my weak spots."

Dom felt Mia by his side, looking up into his eyes. Dom could only chuckle, could only push down the rising fire in his gut, could only stand by his pride and make it through.

Okay, maybe there was one person who still felt there was something to gain from defensive precautions.

Mia was allowed to call Dom on shit, didn't mean Dom had to play into her hand.

With Dom distracted, Letty walked over to Brian. Sauntered over, really. Prowled. It wasn't like she was moving in to protect Dom from someone related to the Trans…this was different.

And okay, maybe the crew were a bit cagy against outsiders.

Brian felt he'd crossed a line, one that was maybe only just drawn.

"New mechanic?" Letty asked, tongue in cheek and looking him up and down now.

Brian nodded, remembering that's how he was introduced to Johnny Tran. "I guess you could call me that."

He saw a reason to be respectful. He was Dom's guest, didn't mean he was welcome with open arms. Never in his life had he felt that way.

She clicked her tongue and moved in, spacing them out not even by an inch. Behind her, Vince and Leon had grins spread over their faces. Dom and Mia were drawn tighter in their own little world, maybe missing some of the subtle things going on around them.

Letty said quietly, voice firm, "Don't mix a business deal with sex, Brian. It doesn't ever work out. Just fix the car…move on."

Brian nodded that he heard her. A feline with a tom picked out; Letty was hissing. She moved back past Dom, giving him a daring look to try anything and be risking his life in doing so. Dom let his eyes trail after her. Mia looked like she had more to say again.

"What color should she be?" Brian asked Mia, stepping into the shop finally, feeling that was more of a risk than even Letty walking close to him. It was just one step.

Whatever she might have said to Dom, to him, to Letty, she bit her lip and looked at Brian.

"You want me to pick?"

Brian nodded. "Gonna tell me gunsmoke pink? You know this car is going to Dom once I'm done with it?"

Dom laughed. Whatever spell had fallen over them all had passed. Dom moved off into the shop, Jesse took the moment to vacate the area and rushed over to his computer to start on that shopping list, Vince scowled and turned back to the truck.

Brian saw Mia's eyes twinkle at the thought of a pink car. Or maybe just choosing the color. Either way, Brian was serious about it being in her hands.

"I'll have to think about it," she said at last.