I don't like my mind right now

Stacking up problems that are so unnecessary

Wish that I could slow things down

I wanna let go but there's comfort in the panic

Heavy, Linkin Park

Z

The sun was coming up in a few hours and Han hadn't stirred once since he'd crashed in my bed. I hadn't slept at all. I'd been on the beach thinking.

There was no sense in waffling back and forth between choices; Han wouldn't. I didn't need to study body language at Quantico to see the way Han and Letty gravitated towards him. He always held their full attention. Despite how welcoming they had been to me, I was the outsider and would always be.

I knew that from the very beginning, so why did that hurt? I was supposed to be using Han as a bedwarmer while I got my thoughts back together before I went back home.

Home. My stomach flipped uncomfortably at the thought. It was supposed to be everything I ever wanted. The FBI was the big time and LA was a city with a lot of crime to fight. I should be happy there.

It was hard to be happy when there was no respect and I was the office joke, but that would change with a little time. My association with Brian was starting to be less of a black spot on my career as the office slowly warmed up to him. Who knows? I might even get a hero's welcoming for my first FBI shooting and for taking a murderer off the street. I didn't feel like the hero though.

I definitely wouldn't when I told Brian what I was about to do. I wondered if he might be grateful to have his nemesis off the street, but deep down, I knew there wasn't a chance. Brian held some sort of weird respect for Dominic Toretto. Just like Letty and Han.

There was something about this man that sucked them all in and held them captive and I wasn't sure I could stay away from it if I chose to get closer. It didn't' matter, though. I had to do this. If anyone was heartless enough to resist his charms it was me.

What I wasn't heartless enough to do was to do this behind Brian's back. I had to tell him.

I knew it was ridiculously early morning and he'd be asleep, but I hadn't checked in that day, so I was planning on just leaving a voicemail. I dialed his number and waited for the voicemail message. What I wasn't counting on, was him being awake.

"Hey. Having too much fun?" He answered. Something in his voice sounded bitter. Every once in awhile, it was there. It would creep into his bright words, and cloud over his bright blue eyes. It always happened when he had uninterrupted time to think.

"Hey. I'm sorry. I fell asleep." I made yet another excuse. My stomach felt sour.

Brian chuckled. "You're sleeping? Good. That's good."

Something so very awkward was hanging in the air.

"So, what are you doing up? Chasing tail out at the bar?" I cringed at my own attempt at a joke. Brian didn't even throw me a pity laugh, he just sighed tiredly.

"Ross's lawyer best friend filed to have your name made public." Brian tore the bandaid right off.

"He can't do that! Do you know what that will do to me?" I bit my lip when I realized I was screaming. My heart was running a million miles a minute. "My life is over if he does that to me! I can't go home. I can't go back to work-"

"He can't! Penning denied the request and sealed the file." Brian cut me off before I went into more of a spiral. "Look, I wasn't even supposed to tell you. I just knew with the hurricane you'd be coming back and I didn't want you to come home to a shit storm."

"Coming back?" I muttered as I tried to control my breathing. All of those dark feelings from being trapped in my own apartment came flooding back.

"Yeah. I mean, Sayulita won't be a direct hit, but you're on the beach." Brian sounded like it would be a no brainer. "I mean, you are coming back right?"

"No." I paused. I steeled myself to say 'I'm working a case', but I couldn't. "I'm moving cities. I met some expats here that are helping me book it."

"You're not coming back?"

"I'm happy for the first time in a long time. Let me put it off a little bit longer."

Why? So I can come home a hero? So I could bring Dominic Toretto to justice? What would that do for me if my entire undercover career was blown by an LA lawyer? I didn't want that fame. I didn't want to crunch numbers behind the scenes in a suit like some of the other agents. They'd take me out of the field.

"I hope you know what you're doing." Brian knew. He knew there was something else. I couldn't bring myself to tell him.

"I'm going to get as much out of this trip as I possibly can. Be someone else for a change." I was crying. Why was I crying?

Talk with Brian dissolved into small talk. I knew he knew I wasn't okay, but he didn't push it. I could feel the probing questions and statements, though. He was good. I felt uncertain talking to him like I was about to spill everything, even though I didn't have many secrets to hide from him. Just the one. Dominic Toretto.

The tears had dried up by the time I finished talking to him. I sat there staring at the waves for another half an hour, lost in my own terrible thoughts. I wasn't one to dwell on dark things. My parents had been murdered, I got over it. I bounced around in foster care, I adapted. I lost the man I thought I was going to marry, my home and my friends, I found a new life. The last one took a little time.

Since moving to LA, I felt like the hits kept coming. The hit to my professional reputation and career hurt worse than breaking things off with Marcus ever did. The shooting straight up broke me. I was never going to be the same from that one, but at least it wasn't me that did it; it was the newlywed Mrs. Walker. That was going to be a skeleton in my closet that could be locked up and hidden away from everyone but my FBI superiors. The lawyer friend was threatening to change all of that. I was going to have to deal with that demon every day in every aspect of my life for years thanks to his meddling.

It had been blocked now, but that wasn't a guarantee it would stay that way. If I was going to get some enjoyment out of life, I might as well do it in Mexico, because I was going home to storm cloud of shit.

I stood up so fast I knocked by beach chair over. I started to walk towards home, but I ended up turning back to grab it out of the sand. It felt awkward dragging behind me as I climbed up the dunes. I was pretty sure I wasn't supposed to walk through the beach grass like this, but I didn't give a fuck at that moment. I dropped the chair as soon as I got inside the gate of my villa. I didn't slow down until I got to the door.

Han was supposed to be asleep, but his fingers were drumming on my pillow when I came in the back door of the villa. He was sprawled carelessly on his stomach, starfished in the middle of the bed. A phone I had never seen him with before was sitting by his elbow, carelessly tossed on my side of the bed. His lighter was next to his keys on the nightstand and I wondered if he had snuck out to smoke again.

He lazily stretched, taking his time rolling over to face me. I knew I looked like an absolute mess, but his facial expression didn't change. It didn't even change when my eyes between him and the phone.

The job was soon, probably very soon if he was getting calls from Toretto. I was running out of time to make a case or whatever it was I was about to entangle myself with Toretto's crew for. I still wasn't sure, but I didn't care. I was going to make sure I got what I wanted out of this.

Z

The sound of the water running was getting on my nerves. I could hear Han padding around the villa in his bare feet as the tub filled, mostly rummaging through cabinets in the kitchen. I wasn't sure why there was a tub in the bedroom but there was and apparently Han was about to get in it and a large part of me wanted him to go away so I could wallow in my own thoughts until the sun came up.

I was not okay and it was time I admitted that to myself.

The sound of running water finally stopped. The sound of Han's footsteps got louder as he approached the bed. I was thinking about telling him to take his bath and go away when his fingers started tracing patterns across my shoulder. The languid movement of his fingertips was actually comforting. After a few minutes, I felt myself relaxing into it.

"You're shaking." He finally broke the silence.

"I made the mistake of calling home." I finally answered. I wanted to deny it, but I knew that would be stupid. I couldn't lie to him about what he could obviously see.

"Come on." He whispered, gently tugging on my arm. I let him pull me up to a sitting position.

"I have a headache," I muttered. He shrugged with a small smile playing out on his lips.

"This will help."

My resolve to tell him to go away was getting weaker. I let him lead me to the bathtub. He offered me a hand like a gentleman and I stepped in. He climbed in and laid back against the side with a contented smile. I edged myself into the scalding hot water next to him. His big, calloused hands wrapped around my hip as he pulled me back into his chest.

I was so tired I melted instantly. I let him press an icy cold margarita into my hand and took a long gulp. The second the drink was out of his hand, it was moving against my skin, up my legs, across the arch of my hip bone, my stomach, my breasts, my ribs.

Han definitely knew how to spoil a girl staying over for the night. I doubt they were ever much more than that, but they at least got treated like a queen. I was becoming more and more fine with it as the night was going on.

"Why do you want to street race?" He finally broke the silence after I had downed my margarita and most of his.

I snorted. "I can't believe I'm being asked that by a street racer. The ones that do it for a reason other than getting some ass act like it is the one true religion."

"Humor me." He replied dryly.

"I got in a rut with things." I started, completely unsure of how to ever even begin this story. I was surprised I didn't immediately start with 'this one time I stole an LAPD cruiser'. "I ended up getting-getting a chance to drive a friend's Charger. Middle of nowhere. Nothing to worry about."

I chewed my lip as I remembered the feeling of chasing the suspect through the maze of warehouses.

"Driving was the first time in a long time I wasn't anxious or bogged down in bullshit. I just felt so okay and alive and I wanted to feel like that all the time." I paused, knowing I sounded stupid. "I've had friends that used to race and all of them would sell their soul to do it again. I'm just tired of the way things are going and I want a piece of that."

I downed the rest of Han's margarita. It was going to kill my already splitting head, but I didn't care.

"That's the first time I've ever had a girl ask me to teach them how to street race during sex." Han sounded mildly amused. I snorted.

"You mean that's not a common pickup tactic?" I leaned back into his shoulder so I could see his face. All I managed to see was his jawline.

"To get sex. Not during." His hand brushed a stray hair out of my face. I shivered at the intimate contact.

We stayed wrapped up together until the water was getting cold. I stood up to get out first. I was standing outside the tub wrapping a towel around myself when I caught Han's eye. He was thinking. Far harder than I wanted him to be right now.

I was going to have to tell him what happened at home or he was going to ask.

"The family of my stalker wants my name released to them and to the public."

"What happened, Anna?" His voice was even and calm.

I burst into tears.

"I knew he was crazy. I knew it. I started carrying because of him. He was so good at hiding it that other people didn't, though. I didn't like being alone with him. Work wife was trying to keep that from happening, but one day he met me at the top of a flight of stairs in the office and it was just us. I remember him insisting that I go first, but I don't think I did. I was scared of him, so I wouldn't put my back to him. I woke up at the bottom."

Han was standing now, gingerly stepping out and grabbing his own towel. I waved off what was sure to be an awkward attempt at comfort that neither of us wanted.

"He was leaning over me and he was going to strangle me. No one else was there, so I had to shoot him. It was him or me. I had broken ribs, a terrible concussion, split scalp, and a whole bunch of bruises. If I had to fight him without the gun, I would have died." I was reigning in the tears now. Han was looking slightly less uncomfortable.

"My memory is super patchy because of the head injury. Some things are so clear it's like I'm reliving it over and over and some things are fuzzy and dark, and it's so scary. I was ending up places with no idea how I got there." I sat on the bed and took a few deep breaths.

Han shifted his weight to his toes like he couldn't decide if he needed to give me space, or come closer. He finally decided to sit on the bed next to me.

"This isn't something I'm going to get over overnight. It's going to take a lot of work and time. I was having a lot of trouble at home. My choices were sit in LA, which I hate by the way, or get out and live. I chose to live. I chose to quit letting fear lead me." The anxiety was going away. I felt more resolute and calm just saying it out loud.

"You make your choices and you don't look back." Han finally added.

He looked at me with respect. It was something that had been missing from my life for so long. I felt so relieved.

"I'm not letting anything stop me from getting what I want now." The corners of his lips pulled up in a smirk.

"Then I suggest we make sure this hurricane doesn't rain on your parade."