Don't own them, don't sue. D/L- R for language. Not too smutty, but still melodramatic.

Meant to move things along a little faster than I did, but giving the girl some soul took some time. If you have the urge to read more, let me know- I'm cheap- a few words of encouragement is all that it takes. Drop a line yo.

Making A Mess of Things- Chapter Five: Burn.

Things at the garage were really busy for the next ten days. Tony had that big race coming up in Vegas, so Dom and Vince were working double shifts to keep up with the day to day shit at the garage while Tony concentrated on getting his car ready. We barely saw each other, and though we talked a little, we didn't share anything more than a quick kiss here and there.

Despite not really having time for each other, I really enjoyed the routine that we had fallen into. No more sluts meant no more fights, which in and of it self was great. Plus, since the guys were always at the garage, Mia and I had time to catch up. The extra money I was bringing in also meant that mom got to cut back some on her hours. I was in such a good mood since graduation that I'd been helping out more around my own house too, which psyched mi abuela and madre. It was weird, but the only stress that I had to deal with these days was Tony, who was watching us like a hawk.

The last morning before Tony took off for Vegas started off like how every other day since graduation had. When I walked into the Torretto's kitchen to get some breakfast before work, Tony was sitting at the table. Looking up from his newspaper, Tony smiled and raised his cup of coffee in salutation.

"Hey Uncle T," I said, continuing on to the fridge. "How you livin?" I like raiding the Torretto's kitchen in the mornings because they had white-people breakfast food. Don't get me wrong, I love the stuff my grandmother cooks. The thing is, we don't work in the fields no more- I'm afraid that if I eat too much of it, I'll end up looking like my fat ass New Yorkican cousins. I loved them and all, and yeah, they did still look good, but they had a little more bounce to the ounce going on than I could pull off. I figure a bowl of Special K will compensate for the pastilles I was planning on having for lunch.

"Not bad. You better get a move on. Dom's leaving for the garage in about 10 minutes. I want you to help him with that custom paint job on Jorge's Mustang. You know how impatient he gets with that sort of thing."

Shoveling the cereal into my mouth, I nod. After chewing as quickly as possible, I leaned forward and asked Tony to clarify what he'd just said. "But I thought, you know. What you said the other day. Wasn't that like a ground rule or something?"

"I know what I said, but desperate times call for desperate measures." He scratches his head distractedly and looks at me with this slightly accusatory look on his face. "You can handle it, right?"

I gulp and nod quickly. "Yeah. No problem."

He gives me a dry look. "I heard you broke up with Adrian."

"Uh… yeah." I blush. "After graduation."

Sighing, Tony closed his newspaper and rubbed his head once again. "Letty…"

"What?" I try to look innocent. "What?"

Thankfully, Mia walked in, saving me from a lecture. "Hey Letty," she yawned as she walked passed me and on to the fridge. "Wait- what?"

I could hear Mia pivot and from the corner of my eye I saw her kneel down and look at me intently. "What?" I started to blush. Oh shit. So busted.

"You're wearing makeup." Mia arched an eyebrow at me.

I opened my mouth to protest, but looking from father to daughter and back again, I snapped my jaw shut. Mia was amused. Tony was anything but amused. "It's not a big deal."

Walking in to the kitchen, Dom sat up on the counter and grabbed an apple. "What's not a big deal?"

I rolled my eyes and stood up, taking my bowl to the sink. "Nothing. Just forget it, let's go." Waving goodbye, I walked out of the kitchen, letting the door slam behind me.

I waited for Dom to unlock his car, then got in, and stared out the window.

Starting the car, Dom glanced over at me. "So you wanna tell me what that was all about? Seemed like you were in a rush to get out of there."

"Nothing. I don't want to talk about it." I pull my knees up and tuck my head down.

"Are you sure?" Dom's voice was gentle and his concern genuine. "It doesn't sound like nothing."

"I said I don't want to talk about it."

"Damn, chill out already. Jesus, you don't have to bite my head off just because you're feeling bloated."

Oh. No. He. Didn't. "Fuck you Dominic." I tossed my head back and ran my hand thru my hair angrily.

Snorting, Dom fiddled with the radio while we waited at a red light. "Not now, and if you keep that attitude up, not ever."

"Great. That's just fucking great. Green light asshole, lets get a move on. The sooner we paint this damn car, the sooner we can get back to ignoring each other." I leaned forward and turned the volume up nice and loud so I wouldn't have to talk to him.

Dom gunned the engine and sped down the street. The normally 20 minute drive was cut down to seven minutes. He pulled up into the driveway and cut the engine, locking the doors at the same time. "Tell me what the problem is."

"I already told you I don't want to talk about it. God are you deaf?" I turn away from him, trying to unlock the door and get out of the car.

Dom grabbed my arm and pulled me back. "Sit. Tell me."

"No." I wrenched my arm away from him and bolt out of the car.

"Letty! What the fuck?!" Dom slammed out of the car and followed me.

Fumbling with the key, I tried to unlock the door to the garage. I'm so irrationally angry right now- and the worst part is that I know I'm acting like a psycho. The door finally swings open and I stalk into the garage, fighting back tears. I walk passed the cars and straight into the office. Throwing open the door, I can't fight the tears anymore. I collapse on the couch and start sobbing, my body shaking.

Sitting down next to me, Dom leaned forward and pulled me into his lap. "Baby, what's wrong?"

"Your dad hates me." My chest was heaving, the words barely audible.

"He doesn't hate you, I promise, he doesn't. He cares about you. He just wants to make sure you're safe." Dom strokes my hair, soothing me.

"He was about to bitch me out this morning Dom, but then Mia walked in. And she noticed I was wearing make up and he got all pissed at me."

"Awww, mija. Please, please stop crying."

"I hate this Dom. I don't want him to be mad at me, but I can't give you up. I never asked to feel like this, but I do. I hate lying to him, I hate lying to Mia. Can't we just tell them?"

Dom rubs my shoulders and my neck, trying to release my tension. "He doesn't want to know Mia. He's worried about us. This is new territory for both of us. And it wouldn't be fair to Mia either. If we told her but not my dad- you know she can't keep secrets from him."

Slowly I get my shit together and compose myself. "I'm sorry," I say, toying with his coveralls. "I know that was totally basic. I just- this is so stressful." I sigh, resting my head against his chest.

Dom's chest rumbled as he chuckled. "It's okay. I blame the crimson tide anyways."

I swat at him playfully. "You're a prick, you know that? What, you wish I was so young I didn't get it?"

"Hey! I'm not THAT big a perv." Dom laughed as he stood up, lifting me into the air and then dropping me onto the couch with a loud thud.

"Ouch! That hurt!" I think my outrage would have been more convincing if I didn't have a huge grin on my face.

Dom snickered and stuck his tongue out at me, but offered me a hand. "There you go again, making drama."

"Watch your mouth old man, or else I might make you paint the mustang by yourself." I swatted his hand away and got up off the couch by myself.

"Right, Jorge's going to love that. You know I can't handle that fru fru stuff." Dom put his hands on my hips and walked us out of the office and back into the garage.

Once we could walk side by side I took his hand in mine as we made our way to the Mustang. "Painting a car is not fru fru." I checked the clock and realized we had to get started pronto. Giving him a quick kiss, I walked over to my locker to get my shitty cover alls and put them on.

"It is compared to rebuilding an engine." Dom flipped on the lights and started to gather all the shit we'd need to make Jorge's p.o.s. look respectable.

I had to laugh as I shimmied into my clothes. "Are you for real? All the great painters in history were men. Monet, Picasso, Michelangelo…" My voice trailed off as I tried to force my zipper up. I swear, it was obvious that I'd inherited it from Dom, because the zipper was always causing me grief. Stubborn bastards, the both of them.

Walking up to his locker, Dom gave me a playful push. "If you're about to name all the Ninja Turtles, don't think I'm going to be impressed. I thought you actually learned something in art theory class this semester." Grabbing his goggles and a face mask, he leaned forward and helped me jiggle the zipper.

I shook my head and laughed. "It's not my fault I got an A. That shit just came naturally to me. Believe me, I spent a hell of a lot more time on my English Comp homework and still got a shitty grade."

Kissing my nose, Dom smiled. "My girl's hella smart, no matter what that Ivy League prick of a teacher you had said. Besides, I doubt that limp dick could draw half as well as you can. And when we're running the garage, it's not like we're going to need someone to write sonnets about our work. I'd much rather have an artist-in-residence than a poet-laureate."

Blushing, I wrapped my arms around Dom's neck and gave him a slow, wet, gentle kiss. Pulling away before things got too heated, I stroked his face. "You think?"

Dom swallowed and nodded. His eyes searched mine, his concern obvious. "You know you're… amazing, right? I know I give you shit, but sometimes… sometimes I wonder why you're with me when you could be with college boy. You could go away to the same school, get married, and have little nerdy artistic kids who lettered in four sports, graduate with honors, and paint murals for community service in their spare time." Dom closed his eyes and rested his forehead against mine. "If… if that's what you want then…"

I gave him a big hug, trying to squeeze the insecurity out of him. "Right, and then I'd bring my Volvo station wagon in for servicing and bitch about how I chipped a nail playing tennis at the club and how lazy the illegals who work for me and my doctor husband are." I laughed, shaking my head. "Can you imagine me even owning a tennis skirt?"

"I can imagine you wearing one," Dom said with a hint of mischief.

"Right... That's not going to happen. For one, you know my mom and I have a hard enough time making the mortgage every month, forget college. And I'm happy right here with you and Tony and Mia. I don't need to go college to work on cars." I rubbed his back slowly, enjoying our rituals as I tried to comfort him.

Dom seemed to relax a little, but he still wasn't satisfied. "But what about your art? Don't you want to study that some more?"

I rolled my eyes. "Dom, did you hear what you just said? Study? Me want to study? Come on now. Art's only fun because I don't have to work hard at it. Besides, who told you I even like art?"

Looking bashful, Dom rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. "I, uh, I was- now don't get mad Letty, this was way before we ever hooked up- but I was in the art room and I saw some of your work. That drawing you did of your dad, the charcoal one- I liked it. I asked Mia about it once, and she said you were really good. Like they offered you a partial scholarship to the Art Academy."

I arched my eyebrow and looked at him. "Why would I get mad that you were in the art room?"

"Letty, baby, it's not a big deal, don't worry about it." Dom's stammered, pretty much giving away the reason he was in there. "Besides, I ah, couldn't, you know, with your dad watching."

"Mmmhm. Remember Dom, tread marks. Think of it as artistic expression." I ran my nails lightly down his neck. "And not a word about the scholarship offer to my mother. You know she'd work herself into an early grave trying to afford it, which we can't."

Shivering, Dom swallowed again, though I could feel that it was for a different reason. "No one else Letty. I swear to God, there's no one else." Dom leaned down to kiss me. His mouth was hungry- both for solace- and for sex.

Unfortunately for him, I was irritated by the fact that the only reason he knew one of my secrets was because he'd been thinking with his dick. I kept the kiss light, not letting him draw me into the haze. "Come on, we gotta get started." I pushed him away and turned toward the Mustang.

The day flew by pretty quickly. It didn't take long to prep and put the first coat on the Mustang, but replacing the transmission on the Jetta some kid had brought in was a pain in the ass. By the end of the day I was so beat that I fell asleep in the car on the way home. When Dom dropped me off at the casa I could barely stumble up the front steps and into the kitchen. The only thing that got me in there was the smell of my grandmother's cooking. Goddamn I wish I had her skills.

Collapsing at the table, I took my hair down and started to unlace my boots. "Hey grams, smells good. What's for dinner?"

My abuela turned the heat down on the stove and then turned to look at me. Grams is great, but I could tell she was less than thrilled with my appearance. Clicking her tongue sharply, she started in on what I like to call the speech. En espanol of course. "You don't get a thing until you take a shower young lady. I worry about you, getting all greasy all the time. If it weren't for Mia, I'd have your mother put you in Our Lady of Mercy to make sure you learned how to be a good girl."

"Grams… please, don't start." I tugged my boots off and placed them by the door. "I had a long day. Tio had me pant some car and then Dom needed help with something." I shrug and give her a half-hearted smile. "Hey, at least I'm spending more time with the Torretto's. Isn't that what you wanted?" I nudge her aside and start to wash my hands and face in the kitchen sink.

"Dios Mio! Wrong one! When are you going to learn to be a lady like Mia?" Abuela shakes her spoon at me and switches to English. "How is it that the girl with no mother grows into a woman and the girl with no father-"

Before I can stop myself I snap, interrupting her. "I have a father." My voice is cold and hard, frozen- just like my body.

"Mira- I didn't mean it like that, you know that." She puts the spoon down and tries to comfort me, but I won't have it.

"Don't say shit like that." I push her hand away from me and walk upstairs, ignoring her as she calls out my name. I walk into my room and slam the door behind me. I grab my Discman and a pair of shades, turn the volume up high and hit play. I rip my jeans off and pull on a pair of soccer shorts that Adrian had bought for me before we broke up. After putting on a fresh pair of socks, I lace up my running shoes and open the window. I climb out onto the fire escape and kick the ladder and climb down. I pull my hair back into a tight bun, forcing the rubber band around it so many times it hurts my fingers.

Seeing my grandmother come out onto the porch, I put the sung glasses on and make my way down the walk without acknowledging her. I look left, then right, trying to decide which way I want to go. I decide to chase the setting sun as it lights the sky on fire defiantly despite knowing it is about to be exiled to the depths of the ocean and its' flames extinguished without a sound. It was fucking fitting. Forget the caged bird, I knew how the sun felt. As my feet hit the asphalt, I concentrated on my breathing, trying to clear my mind. I let the music wash over me, matching my strides to the bass line.

I ran as hard as I could till the c.d. ended seventy two minutes and thirty four seconds later. Only when the music stopped did I slow down and stretch my aching body against a lamp post. I'm covered in sweat and angry tears. God I hate PMS. Isn't my life fucking hard enough as it is?

The light flickers on and I realize that it's dark now. I'm so hot right now I guess I didn't realize the sun had already lost. Don't worry buddy, you'll get another shot. Better luck tomorrow. Taking a deep breathe, I realize that I'm only a couple of blocks from the beach. Hell I came this far, might as well cool off.

Pushing my shades up, I make my way to the water. I'm calmer now, but empty. If it didn't suck ass so much, I think I'd be amazed by the human capacity for emotion. One minute you can be filled with an all consuming rage. The next minute you're hollow. I spot a pay phone and head for it. Staring out at the ocean as I lift the receiver, I punch in the number for the emergency calling card my mom made me memorize. When the voice at the other land gives the okay, I dial the number of the only person I can think of right now who can make me feel better.

"Hello?" The male voice is groggy and scratchy.

"Hey. I'm sorry I didn't think you'd be sleeping." I'm surprised how weak I sound. I clear my throat and continue. "Go back to sleep, I'll talk to you later."

"Wait, Let- don't hang up. What's wrong? What happened?" He's awake now, and worried.

I'm quiet for a moment. What should I tell him? That I freaked out over nothing? Even if I could think of something to say, the lump in my throat is so big, I doubt any words could slip past it.

"Let? You there?" There's some noise in the background. I can just picture him fumbling with the light next to his bed and searching for his keys. "Where are you kid?"

"I'm… I'm outside of that gelato shop." I let the p 'pop' softly.

I hear him swear. "Sorry, I stubbed my toe. Don't move. I'll be right there."

I nod, and give a small smile, even though I know he can't see me. Hanging up the phone, I walk over to a bench and sit down to wait. The moon is full and its high tide. I stare out at the crashing waves. The night is still, but thanks to the light from the moon, it is beautiful, soothing, and cool. For now I am grateful that the sun is not here to burn me.

End Five.