Disclaimer: I do not own the Fast and the Furious, it's characters, or situations. I am making no money from this work of fiction. John Meyer wrote the song "3x5" which is where I got the title of this chapter.

Chapter 2: 3 x 5

"Yo Dom!" a gruff voice called out to me across the weight room. I did my best to ignore the interruption, feeling my muscles strain as I pushed a hundred and fifty pounds up from my chest. I had begun to pump iron in an attempt to give myself something to concentrate on in here besides the fact that I couldn't drive. I missed driving.

"Yo Dom!" the voice called again, this time closer, standing where my knees were bent on the bench. I could feel him watching me, deciding when to address me again. My arms were getting tired but I kept pushing, tacking on more reps to this set. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. I did not want to talk to this guy. He cleared his throat.

"Dom," he said this time without the bass to back up his words. This gave me pause. I pushed the weight up one last time before placing it to rest on the arms of the bench. Taking a deep breath I sat up to look into his face, a scowl crossing my lips so he would know I was annoyed.

"Lucky," I said slowly in a direct tone that told him to get on with whatever he had found that was more important than my exercise regiment.

"I know you said you weren't into cliquing up," he started. I shook my head, immediately standing up. I knew exactly where he was going with this. I had spent the last six months protecting myself from jailhouse drama by remaining independent and neutral. I socialized but I didn't take sides in an argument and no one here could count me as a friend.

"Wait Dom, hear me out," Lucky said, urgency tinting his words. The urgency gave me pause. Lucky was new here, he'd gotten here five weeks ago and was doing his best to follow my example and remain outside the clique system. Lucky had been getting a lot of pressure in the last week though. Someone leaked that Lucky had plenty of money and powerful friends on the outside, friends he had been willing to go to jail for rather than snitch for a reduced sentence. But skinny Lucky is not a fighter so it's been slightly more difficult for him to resist the protection that cliquing up would bring.

"Look, that ain't for me," I sighed, working to keep myself calm. I did not want to jeopardize my rec privileges over a small argument. I've seen inmates' loose privileges over less, depending on who was on guard duty.

"I know how you feel man," he hesitated for a second then plunged ahead as if rushing this out would make it better for him, "but I need your help. I can't seem to get them to back off. If you could just flex some muscle on my behalf…"

"You know I won't, not even for you," I cut him off. He gave me a frustrated look. Before Lucky could come back at me with a different tact, I was saved from making a reply by a mail call.

Usually I wasn't expecting anything but today my ears perked up, listening for my name to be called. I'd finally broken down and sent Mia a letter five months after that first phone call. I was sadistically curious to know how life was progressing without me. I knew today would be the day I'd get a reply. Sure enough halfway through, I got my letter shoved at me. Excitedly I walked back to the seclusion of my cell, dismissing Lucky in a way that was direct but clean. He was the same way when he got his mail so I knew he wouldn't be angry about it later. I opened the letter, and immediately felt there was more in there than one or two pieces of paper. A few photos were wrapped up, tucked between the pages. I smiled. Only Mia.

Dear Dom,

I'm glad that you finally wrote to me. I miss you so much. I thought about writing you a simple letter but then I got carried away…so think of this as more of a State of the Toretto Address.

First, DT is doing well. Vince, Han, and Letty are working hard, keeping the shop running. Vince really manned up and took charge in there. He said the work is constant but not enough to keep him from constantly tuning the Maxima (see picture). I paused to look at a picture of Vince's legs sticking out from under his car, the background familiar. Vince hated taking pictures so I know Mia must have caught him unaware.

Daphne has been working the books over there and I am so grateful. Don't be offended but Dad wasn't very good at keeping the records. I could agree but to be fair, I wasn't much better. Sometimes she comes over with a raging headache but she says that DT is remaining financially solvent. Well, they're keeping the lights on at any rate considering we are still using Dad's system for salaries. Han, Letty, and Vince haven't made any mention of being paid or wanting to be paid but I approached Han about it. He says that none of them care about that. They didn't get paid in money before so they aren't beat about it now. Besides, Letty is using the perks of the job to work on her Silva. She also said something about engines and ripping apart blocks but I didn't understand (see picture). I shuffled the pictures to see Letty standing by the side of her car, her hair in a messy ponytail, sweaty, holding a wrench, and frowning. After studying her face for a while, I began to peruse the rest of the photo which made me grin. She was standing next to the car but the hood was up. The engine was prepped for mounting in front of the car along with an assortment of nuts, bolts, and parts. 'Geez us,' I laughed to myself. By the time she finishes the car it will be worth more than a year's salary anyway.

The café is doing well too (see picture).There was a picture of my sister, a large smile on her face, behind the counter at Toretto's Café. I only had one kid try and rip us off. I don't think the kid realized that Vince knew us so well otherwise he may have thought twice before trying to make off with some stolen groceries. As it was, Vince was already at the café having lunch and had knocked the kid into next Tuesday before he could run around the corner. I'm just grateful that the kid seemed to learn his lesson. At any rate, word must have spread because I don't have any real problems anymore. Vince comes to watch me open, check on me mid-shift, and watch me close just to make sure though. And I can't get anyone else to help me out over here except for Daphne. Letty looks at me as if she would rather rip off her arm then spend a whole afternoon here. And I don't even bother Han with it. He's too busy doing whatever it is that he does when he's not at DT.

Oh man, the house. Dom it's so weird to live here without you. I have kept up the tradition of decorating the house for every major holiday (see pictures). I paused again to look at shots of the house decorated for Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, Valentine's Day, and now St. Patrick's. It seems Mia made sure to capture someone doing something foolish in each one. For Halloween Vince was asleep on the couch, blissfully unaware that two pumpkins were perched on the back of the couch with a fishing line near his pocket. Mia wrote on the back 'robbery in progress'. Thanksgiving was a candid shot of Letty 'sneaking' a piece of cake while Vince was keeping Mia occupied in holding a serving plate for the slices of turkey he was cutting. Christmas had two pictures: the first was a picture of Han and Vince struggling to carry in a live tree and the second showed the tree completely decorated with all of them smiling at the camera. New Years there was a picture of Han and Daphne asleep on the couch while Letty was trying not to laugh out loud as she pointed at a large clock that read ten o'clock. Letty was in the one for Valentine's Day too. She was pointing a bow at Vince's chest. Vince's face was hilarious to me, his mouth wide open in horror, hands up as he was clearly backing away. Whoever had taken the picture was laughing so hard that it was slightly blurry. The last one taken on St. Patrick's day showed Mia again, this time in full green from head to toe, sitting on the steps to the house which had green streamers and clovers stuck to every door and window visible. Bracing myself I continued to read.

I am glad that Letty moved in. It's good to have a constant person in the house with me. She sleeps in your room. I told her you wouldn't mind and that you were probably going to fantasize, or whatever it is guys do, about her being in that bed. She made me include a picture of her lying in your bed to counter that (see picture). Sure enough there was a picture of Letty in my bed but she had on the craziest combination of clothes I had ever seen. She was in a pair of sweats so baggy that clearly belonged to me, and a top so holey and grease stained I knew it must be one of her retired work ones. Her hair was a mess stuffed under a red baseball cap that I knew belonged to Vince at one point. What little I could see of her right foot was covered in fluffy pink socks. It was the most sexless outfit she could wear which would render me unable to come up with any kind of a decent fantasy about her in that bed. She was such a jerk. She says she likes living with me too but the house is too quiet. She's so used to having her whole family over all the time. This is not to say that we don't ever have company. Vince sometimes spends the night in his room that Dad made for him which has been more often than not lately. I think he is transitioning to staying in that basement on a more permanent basis since I make dinner almost every night. Daphne spends time over here too and she alternates the cooking with me but I haven't convinced her to start sleeping here full time. I think her parents are giving her enough grief for spending as much time as she does immersed in everything Toretto.

Han said that you told us they could all live there but Han keeps such strange hours. Even if he was staying here full time I probably wouldn't notice. He's been contributing to the household effort. He told me not to worry about soap or food, which he would help provide for the house since there were a lot more mouths eating dinner here and watching TV. True to his word, I've been getting a thousand dollars in regular intervals from him which I've used to keep the lights on and food in the fridge. I'm curious about how he makes his money but if anyone else knows, they're not saying. I know you'd tell me to mind my own business but I have to ask: Do you know what Han is earning his cash these days? Yes. Would you tell me? Never.

Hey Dom, don't worry about anything. Letty and I are still going to school. Vince had to strong arm Letty in the beginning. She was skipping a lot of class to work at DT. I have to admit she was pretty sneaky about it too: going there for lunch and "forgetting" about afternoon classes, "mixing" up her days and thinking its Saturday instead of Tuesday, and things like that. Vince finally told her he'd ban her from the garage if she kept it up so she's been making it to school consistently. I am surprised he's being such a stickler about it considering he was never too keen on the rules. I guess that's what happens when you're about to graduate. Han, Vince, and Daphne are almost done. It's going to be strange when they no longer have to go school. Finally my lunch will be safe!

Speaking of lunch and dinner, Vince said that he and Han are sending you money. Do you want me to send you some too? Do you have enough socks? I had to laugh at that. Dom, seriously don't worry about us. We're resilient. Hope to hear from you soon.

Love,

Mia

I carefully folder her letter taking care to wrap the pictures inside before I stashed it for safekeeping. I was glad to know that they were adjusting without me. I know that Mia wasn't telling me about the sad stuff, only the good parts to keep me from worrying. But I wasn't going to dwell on the fact that just as much bad was happening out there as good. Tonight I was going to pretend that everything was great. I closed my eyes, the pictures flashing across my memory. Han. Vince. Daphne. Mia. And Letty. Letty in those awful pink socks and ridiculously ill fitting clothes. I grinned to myself. Then another picture of her flashed in my mind. It was the one where she was standing in the garage, sweaty amongst her pile of parts; hmm…I might end up fantasizing about her after all.