Who's the Buster? - Fast and Furious Fic (Chapter 3/14)
Masterpost Available Here
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Chapter Three
After that Thursday Family Dinner, Brian was invited back for Sunday BBQ. And then for Tuesday Family Dinner. While the family dinners were limited to Dom, Mia, Vince, Letty, Jesse, and Leon, Sunday's BBQ had included mutants from all over Torettown. It had taken Jesse literally dragging Brian from the corner of the room to get him to actually socialize with them instead of just watch them, categorizing their abilities and making mental files.
Vince continually asked Brian to mimic the guests - dance like Jesus and Keith, climb like Heather, do gymnastics like Lorraine, lick your elbow like Dejoun, speak with a Russian accent like Anatoly or a New York accent like Mike, skateboard like Sarah, do magic tricks like Gisele. Letty punched him in the throat before Brian could and told him to "grow the hell up." Brian might have fallen just a little bit in love and brought her a drink.
Of the two types of meals, Brian much preferred the family dinners. And when he wasn't eating dinner with the Torettos, Brian was working at Harry's or hitting the streets and learning the names and faces of the people who lived in Torettown. Several of them recognized him from his races the previous week or from Sunday's chaotic meal, but every day Brian was seeing new faces and new abilities he'd never considered a person could have before - like photosynthesis instead of eating typical food or the ability to change the color of wet paint just by touching it.
After Tuesday's dinner, Brian found himself spending even more time with the Toretto team in a more professional sense.
"It's like a loaner program," Harry said Wednesday morning. "You work here some times and you work there some times. Dom'll pay you for the time you put in over there and I'll pay you for here, which makes your rent easier to bear. Dom pays more too, so you'll get extra cash in your wallet."
Brian frowned. "It ain't about the money, Harry. You know that's not why I'm here."
Harry scratched his head and shrugged. "I don't know what to tell you. It's a good deal. I'd look stupid if I turned it down. You would too," he said, pointing at Brian and nearly poking him in the chest. "Besides, this'll get you in with the Toretto family, and they know anybody who's worth knowing."
With a huff, Brian grabbed the keys to his car - not the Racer's Edge truck - and said, "I think I'm already in, but okay."
It wasn't like hanging out with the Toretto team was a hardship, after all. They were like a weird, somewhat dysfunctional family. And even with the stress of Sunday's lunch, the way people were drawn to them was nice. Being around them felt like being a part of something special. Brian would take what he could get of that, paid job or not.
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"Hey, bro," Jesse greeted when Brian dropped into the seat next to him.
"Hey, Jesse," Brian responded, glancing between Jesse and the computers around him.
Across the room, Vince, Letty, and Leon were working on cars that had been brought in to the shop for repairs. When he arrived, Brian had been sure they'd put him on repair duty too, but Vince had quickly shoved him in Jesse's direction instead.
Jesse nodded. "You're on that one," he said, waving toward the computer closest to Brian. "See, fixin' cars and makin' food is part of what we do, but we're like…a multey-multi-….a multifaceted company. Of seven people." He blinked once, slowly, and then shook his head.
Brian rolled his chair up to the computer he'd been 'assigned' and grabbed the mouse, shaking it to wake it up. "So what exactly am I meant to be doing then, if not fixing cars or making food?" he asked, grinning as he finished.
The younger male shook his head again, this time like he was laughing at Brian, and then cracked his knuckles. "You're gonna help me design. I'm on cars. You're on buildings."
Brian narrowed his eyes, confused. "Buildings?"
A nod. "Yeah. Better design for a youth center downtown and all that shit or whatever. You know how to use this program?" he asked, a challenge in his eyes.
"No," Brian admitted, meeting that challenge. "But you do."
With a small laugh, Jesse turned to his computer. The two men met gazes for a brief moment once more, then turned and began typing and clicking and designing like it was a race. Within a minute, Brian knew where all the buttons were and what they did, or could do if finagled just right. He caught Jesse looking over at him every minute or so but didn't look back. If Jesse wanted to waste time checking on him, that was fine, but a race was a race and Brian didn't take his eyes off the road for just any distraction. So focused on his task, Brian hardly noticed what Jesse or the others were doing, and only gave a slight interest in Jesse taking a ten minute break an hour in. He felt like a computer whiz, a designing prodigy, and that was more important at the moment than people.
Designing the façade of the building turned out to be the easy part. Divvying up the interior space was more difficult. Brian scrapped three ideas before landing one that would use green roof technology and cut down on electricity usage yet be varied enough to allow for mutants of a multitude of powers to enjoy themselves without needing to hold back so much. He had just finished drawing up the bare basics of a kitchen when he felt a headache kick in.
A minute or so later, as he was choosing a stove to put in the mock up, his stomach gave a twinge and Brian began to wonder if he should take a break, look away from the computer and go get a snack. But he'd only eaten breakfast a few hours ago, and he'd eaten chips and drank a soda on the way over to the DT Diner and Garage. He shouldn't be hungry yet. It'd only been two hours. The more his stomach gently insisted he get food the more aggravated Brian got.
He realized he was slamming the buttons on the keyboard instead of clicking them and froze mid program command. Brian just stared at the computer screen, at the half finished kitchen pictured there, for a good three seconds, then he laid his face in his hands and let out a heavy sigh.
"Hey, Jess," he said, sitting up and clearing his throat, "think I'm gonna take a break for a bit."
Jesse didn't respond, too caught up in designing what was turning out to be a truly sick looking car, but Brian was already pushing out of his seat and walking away anyway.
Brian walked along the far wall of the garage, opposite the open bay doors and the cars that the team was working on, until he reached the door that led to the diner. Pushing it open revealed the back of the counter and Mia Toretto making a mean grilled cheese with ham for a lady standing at the edge of the shade at the store front. She looked up when the door opened and smiled.
"Hey, Brian," she said.
Brian gave a wave without a word and walked around the counter toward the mini-market part of the diner. It didn't take him long to find the gum section. Grabbing a pack, Brian walked up to the cash register, where Mia was now checking out her customer and wishing her a good day.
"I need this," Brian said once they were alone, passing over the gum at the same time he pulled out his wallet.
Mia looked from Brian to the gum curiously. "Trident Watermelon Twist. Hm. I pegged you for a Passionberry guy myself," she said.
Brian let out a sound from his throat that was too angry, making Mia actually flinch. Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, Brian said, "Just tell me how much I owe you. Please."
"Don't worry about it." When Brian met her eyes, Mia held the gum back out to him. "It's gum. We can handle it. What's wrong?"
Hands shaking just a bit, Brian unwrapped the gum and threw it in his mouth. He chewed for a few seconds, until the gum was soft and he felt less like he was coming out of his skin, then let out a long, content breath.
"An old habit trying to make a comeback," he told her at last.
Mia frowned. "Chewing gum?"
Brian shook his head. "No. But chewing gum won't give me cancer, so I'll take it any day."
"How long were you a smoker?"
Both Mia and Brian jumped at Dom's deep voice, looking over to find the older Toretto leaving his office, a set of keys in his hand that weren't his.
He and Brian stared at each other for several long moments, Brian finding it hard to remember to chew his gum in the face of Dom's attention.
"Three years," he said at length. "A bad habit I picked up when I was…running with a different crowd. I thought I kicked it, forcing myself to forget it instead of remember it, but I guess not." He shrugged and popped his gum in a way reminiscent of Letty the first day he met her.
Mia blinked. "Jesse," she said. "Jesse's a smoker."
It took a second, but Brian realized she meant that he was picking up a new habit instead of reliving an old one. That would be preferable, as ignoring a mimic was easier than kicking an addiction. Given how fast the irritability and shaking had gone away, he'd bet she was right.
Brian smiled. "Yeah. Guess I wasn't prepared for that."
"Come on," Dom called, heading for the garage door. "You can help the others fix a car, avoid the temptation."
Brian appreciated the gesture, that Dom cared enough about some guy he'd technically just met to keep him out of a problematic situation. It wasn't often someone did stuff like that for Brian, not since Rome went to prison when they were nineteen, and it made strange things happen in Brian's stomach.
As they reentered the garage, Brian asked, "Whose keys are those?"
Dom nodded to a gentleman standing by a green Cadillac DeVille in the parking lot. Brian vaguely remembered that Letty had been working on it when he came in today, but most of his brain was taken up with memories of building design.
"Got in a fender bender with a Coupe," Dom explained, looking at Brian and lifting an eyebrow.
Brian chuckled. "That's a shame." That got him a small smile from Dom, so Brian smiled too.
Dom walked over to the gentleman to hand him back his keys and Brian followed, hands stuffed in his pockets. As they stopped in front of the man, Brian got a strange feeling. This man, with his thin blonde hair and brown eyes, collared shirt and jeans, had some sort of training. It wasn't fighting, not like karate or taekwondo, but there was something.
"Here you go, sir," Dom was saying, handing over the keys. "Try not to pick fights with nice cars from now on and you should be good." The tease in his voice wasn't the friendly kind he used with the team, but it wasn't outright mean either. Dom was good at treading the line between polite and hostile, Brian was learning.
The older gentleman smiled charmingly. "Thank you. I would've been embarrassed to go to work with that huge dent tomorrow."
"That's what we're here for," Dom replied. "Anything else?"
"As a matter of fact," the man said, trailing off as he nodded and reached back toward his back pocket with his free right hand.
Awareness flashed through Brian like a bolt of lightning and he was stepping forward even as the man pulled a handgun from behind him. Just as the muzzle leveled on Dom's vaguely surprised face, Brian grabbed the gun in the balls of his hands and shoved it up and to the side, simultaneously putting himself between Dom and the gentleman. He shoved the gun back and down, causing the man to shout in pain when his wrist bent at an odd angle. Brian pushed forward and kicked the man in the groin at the same time he twisted the gun, forcing the would-be attacker to let go and fall down with a loud groan. Brian wasted no time aiming the gun back on its owner, one hand holding the gun with his finger on the trigger and the other wrapped around the opposite side to keep it steady.
"What the hell's going on?" Letty asked, leading the others in the short run from the garage to where the Cadillac was parked.
Jesse saw the gun in Brian's hand and put his up as if he were the one it was aimed at, a cigarette between the fingers of his right hand. "Whoa. Dude had a gun."
Dom stepped to the side and looked at Brian's stiff expression. The movement shocked Brian into action and he quickly released the magazine and emptied the slide before tossing the pieces to either side of him, away from the group.
"He's a cop," Brian breathed out, looking down at the man still covering his groin in pain. He didn't need proof. He already knew. The way he held his gun, and the muscle memory Brian shouldn't have, was enough. Also the ugly car choice.
The man glared up at him. Brian stepped back from the swipe of an arm the man threw at him and then looked down at his own hands. He'd just disarmed a cop, probably an LAPD cop, in Torettown. It wasn't hard to imagine why a cop would try and shoot Dom - he was the unofficial heart of the city. Take him out and the system might collapse, prove all the mutant haters right, put an end to Torettown's protective measures for mutants. But why now?
"Fucking reg!"
Vince's angry yell pulled Brian from his thoughts just as the mutant rushed past him at the man on the ground. He landed a kick to the guy's stomach, making him grunt and cough.
"You think you can come in here and just shoot people?! Huh?!"
"Vince!" Leon shouted, but the bigger man didn't listen.
Another kick landed and then Vince was bending down to lift the cop to his feet, pulling his fist back for a punch. Dom grabbed the man by the shirt and pulled him away at the same time Brian grabbed Vince's wrist and pressed his thumb in, forcing him to let go of his target. He deflected the flying fist too, causing it to go wide.
Vince glared at him. "What, you're defending him now?!"
"Cut it out." Brian's eyebrows drew down as well, but his glare didn't have the heat Vince's did. "Just cause he's a cop don't mean you gotta beat on him."
A muscle pulsed in Vince's head and then his super strength was aimed at Brian instead of the cop. He threw a punch, which Brian dodged and returned with his own. Instead of throwing another punch, Vince got low and rammed into Brian, forcing him back and throwing him bodily into the side of the green Cadillac. Brian rolled over and then launched himself at Vince, wrapping his arms around the taller man's neck.
Vince punched him in the stomach and Brian nearly keeled over that instant. When he'd thought of super strength, he hadn't really imagined what that felt like. Planting his feet so Vince would have to fight to move him, Brian released Vince's neck with one arm and began punching him in the gut in return over and over again. He knew he didn't have super strength, but he wasn't exactly weak by normal standards. Though Vince grunted with each blow, he didn't seem anywhere near going down for the count.
Suddenly Brian found himself on his back on the ground and unsure how he got there. Vince got on top of him and threw a punch that Brian barely ducked out of the way of. If Vince had been aiming anywhere but his head, Brian would've been out of luck. Brian grabbed the arm now next to his head and twisted right at the elbow, making Vince shout and lean back, pulling his arm away from Brian.
"VINCE!" Mia's voice cut in. "Stop it!"
Brian was distracted for less than half a second but it was long enough for Vince's other fist to find his face. His head snapped back against the asphalt of the parking lot and then someone was ripping Vince up and off him. Instead of getting up, Brian lifted his hands to his face slowly. There were still stars in his eyes, but as he gingerly touched his face, nothing felt broken.
Vince must've been holding back.
"Auhg," he groaned. "Shit." Broken or not, the right side of his face hurt like a bitch and his stomach was still screaming at him from the earlier blow.
Strong hands grabbed Brian by the shoulders and lifted him up. Though his head spun for a moment from the quick movement, Brian managed to keep his footing and found himself face to face with Dom.
Always a man of quick wit, Brian managed, "Huh?"
The expression on Dom's face was akin to rage, but though he was looking at Brian, it wasn't aimed at him. Keeping one hand on Brian's shoulder - a support he was grateful for - Dom ordered, "Get the TPD down here for Mr. Keech and goddammit, Vince, get out of my sight before I lose it. You're embarrassing!"
Letty touched a hand to the gentleman's - Mr. Keech's - side and he jolted like Brian had seen people do when hit with a taser. Jesse was already on the phone with what Brian assumed was the Torettown Police Department, his beanie in his hand even as he ran said hand through his hair anxiously. Leon was standing between Vince and Brian, his back to Dom and Brian. He was speaking, but Brian couldn't hear what he was saying. He sounded angry though. Mia hurried around Vince to Brian and frowned when she saw his face.
"Come on. You're bleeding."
Dom led Brian behind Mia into the diner bathroom. In the mirror, Brian saw that Mia was right: his nose was bleeding. Mia handed him a towel and he used it to wipe the blood and sweat from his face. There was a bit of dirt and gravel in his blonde curls, but not enough to warrant a wash so he left it alone. Dom's hand gripped the bottom of Brian's shirt and began to tug upward.
"Hey, whoa," Brian said, grabbing Dom's hand with his own and meeting his eyes.
Dom rolled his eyes. "I need to check if he broke your ribs."
Feeling silly and with heated cheeks, Brian pulled his hands back and let Dom help him out of his shirt. Mia winced at the already forming bruise all along the left side of Brian's stomach.
"I'll get some ice. And some painkillers," she offered before hurrying from the room.
The bruise on his side didn't upset Brian as much as the swelling on his face did. He leaned closer to the mirror and inspected himself. His pupils weren't dilated, his vision wasn't blurry. He didn't feel nauseous or dizzy or tired. Other than the pain from the punch, his head didn't hurt. The ceiling light didn't hurt his eyes and he wasn't about to fall over. It was still a bit early to call, but Brian was mostly certain he didn't have a concussion.
Small miracles.
Warmth spread over the bruise on his stomach and Brian relaxed into it for a moment before actually looking at what caused it. Dom's hand rested gently on his side and his eyes were concerned when they met Brian's. Brian wasn't sure what to make of the unusually gentle expression on Dominic Toretto's face.
"I'll be okay," Brian said quietly, feeling that anything louder would break something between them.
Dom didn't look appeased. "You're a mimic," he said, voice just as quiet in the bathroom as Brian's. "Can you mimic other mutations?"
Not just talents or accents, could he reproduce another mutant's powers. Frankly, Brian was surprised it had taken this long for someone to ask.
He nodded. "It's harder." It wasn't something he was willing to try and prove to them, that was for sure, though he understood what Dom meant. Dom's healing ability would make these injuries vanish in seconds. "A lot harder. I don't unless I absolutely have to."
Seeming to understand Brian's hesitation, Dom just nodded once in acceptance and kept quiet. How he could possibly understand, Brian didn't know, but he was glad to let the subject drop anyway.
When Mia returned with two ice packs and a bottle of aspirin, Dom removed his hand from Brian's side. Even though heat was bad for bruises, Brian was sad to feel it go.
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Preview for Chapter 4
Brian checked he had his gun on his belt, took a deep breath, and then moved to the nearest window with any light coming out and looked inside.
With a charming smile, Braga took the final step to be within arm's reach, then reached out to touch his neck, cupping his fingers around the back of his neck as if to pull him in closer.
Brian felt his blood sing with the change. His skin felt tingly.
Brian's knees hit the dirt and he cursed aloud. His pulse was too fast. All he had to do was get back to the car and he could go somewhere. Harry's. Dom's.
Dom might come searching for him even, which was touching but pointless. The Eclipse was parked out behind The Racer's Edge. Unless he broke in, Dom would have to assume Brian was home for the night.
"I'll tell you, just listen," he promised. Brian watched in interest as Braga's eyes turned purple. "You work for me. You don't steal from me. You don't talk to the police. Understand, hermano?"
Though he hadn't practiced the skill in three years, Brian had to fight the way his fingers twitched to reach for the ingredients for low grade cocaine. Drug runner.
"Yeah, hey, Mia, it's Brian."
When Mia answered, she didn't sound pleased. "Why do I get the feeling you're lying to me, Spilner?"