FIC: "Just the Girl" [x-over FatF/Transformers, Mia/Mikaela]
Title: Just The Girl
Fandom: x-over - The Fast and the Furious/Transformers
Pairing: Mia Toretto/Mikaela Banes
Rating: Mature - for sex between consenting adult women
Word Count: 8079
Summary: Mia and Mikaela‘s relationship blossoms into more than either ever intended.
A/N: Sequel to "Home Fires", takes place after FatF 4 and Transformers 2, with a few minor changes to FatF 4 canon.
**
It had been five months since Mia had seen Mikaela. It was early in the morning, an atypical day for LA - cloudy and raining. Mikaela looked like a drowned puppy, sitting on the cement, back against the closed gate, arms wrapped around her legs, chin on her knees.
“Mikaela?” Mia called out as she approached. Mikaela rose to her feet like the tough-girl she’s supposed to be. But it’s nothing more than posturing. Mikaela’s eyes are red and puffy, her lower lip begins to quiver.
“I didn’t know where else to go,” she mumbled before the bow broke and her tears are flowed freely again.
Mia pulled her into her arms, cooed and ran a calming hand down the back of Mikaela’s head.
**
The ‘closed’ sign stayed in place. There wouldn’t be any customers anyway. Mia sat with her elbows on the countertop, chin resting between her joined palms, marveling at the younger woman’s metabolism as she plowed through her second plate of banana and blueberry topped pancakes. The sole child of an ex-con, Mia doubted there’d been many home-cooked meals on Mikaela’s plates.
So the two sat in silence, listening to the rain as Mikaela ate and Mia watched, remembering the days when she could eat like a horse and not worry about it showing up on her ass the next morning. She gave Mikaela one of Dom’s old sweatshirts still stowed away behind the counter. The girl looked like she was swimming in it. But it was dry and warm.
“This is really good,” Mikaela finally spoke between a shovel full of pancake. She reached the point between eating and playing with her food, painting trails in the syrup on her plate with her fork. “We broke up,” she sighed, finally setting the fork down.
“I’m sorry,” Mia spoke softly. She remembered when Brian left - the first time - and the many pointless tears she’d shed. It’d been easier the second time around. Dom came back. Brian came back. When Mia protested Dom’s plan to avenge Letty’s death, Dom had shut her out. When Dom was arrested, Brian shut her out and broke Dom out of jail. She’d shed tears for the brother she was probably never going to see again. Shed tears for a love that was never meant to be. She shed tears for herself and for thinking, this time, things were going to be different because, this time, she’d be the one to make a difference.
She’d been wrong - again.
“If it’s any consolation,” Mia reached out, placing her hand on Mikaela’s forearm. “My boyfriend dumped me.”
“He’s an idiot. Did he ever eat your pancakes? ‘Cuz anyone who eats these pancakes and doesn‘t throw themselves at your feet and swear to be your sex slave for life is definitely an idiot.” Suddenly, Mikaela brought a hand to her mouth. She’d been babbling and didn’t realize it until *after* the words had fallen from her lips.
Mia laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” Mia rose to her feet. She grabbed the plate and headed towards the kitchen. “You want some more?”
“God, no. I‘m stuffed,” Mikaela groaned, rubbing a hand over her stomach. “Unless you have some bacon back there. No!” she shook her head vigorously. “I’m full. Totally.”
Another laugh filled the air. Mia returned from the kitchen, refilling Mikaela’s glass of milk and her own cup of coffee. She stayed behind the counter, leaning against the surface.
Mikaela took another long swallow of her glass of milk. The kind of swallow that made Mia wonder when the last time the girl had eaten but knew enough to not question. Mikaela set the glass down, wiped her milk mustache away with the sleeve of Dom’s sweatshirt, her face going sheepish and apologetic after realizing what she’d done.
“Sorry,” she mumbled.
“Mikaela,” Mia paused until the girl’s eyes raised and met her own. “Quit apologizing. I’m glad you came to me.”
That seemed to get a smile from the younger woman. Mikaela’s eyes returned to her glass and the fingers wrapped around it.
“Did you know one of the astronauts from the first moon landing went into a huge depression after they returned to earth?” she finally spoke. “Like, he came back and he was this huge star and everything but all he could think was ‘I walked on the moon. How’s anything in my life going to compare to that now?’” Mikaela sniffled, scrunching her face to keep her lower lip from trembling. “I helped save the world. Twice,” she lifted her eyes to meet Mia’s then lowered them again. “Nobody knows about it, of course. Then again, nobody cares. Sam saved the world twice and he got everything. I realized I was always going to be the girl who’s with the boy who saved the world. I guess I realized I’d always be second to Sam, even between the two of us. I’d walked on the moon and it didn‘t matter.”
Mia stayed silent. She wasn’t sure what to say. She only understood about half of what Mikaela had said. She understood the part about always being second. Understood the part of always being just the girl.
She set her coffee cup down and walked around the counter. Fingers cupping Mikaela’s chin, she lifted the younger woman’s face and gently pressed her lips against Mikaela’s.
“Thank you,” she whispered quietly as their lips parted.
“For what?”
“For saving the world.”
Slender arms suddenly wrapped around Mia’s waist and Mikaela’s body relaxed and eased in Mia’s arms as if some giant weight had been lifted from her shoulders. The tears came again, softer and quieter, wetting the crook of Mia’s neck where Mikaela’s face rested. Mia didn’t mind. She wished someone had been there to hold her the first time her world had crumbled.
Mia kissed the side of Mikaela’s forehead, the corner of an eye. Michaela’s head lifted and their lips met, the arms around Mia’s waist tightened, the air thickened. Heartbeats rose and breaths quickened. What was soft and gentle became hurried, urgent. The need to be held and consoled turned quickly into a need to be touched, to be loved.
“Mikaela,” Mia whimpered breathlessly, pulling them apart. She wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to. Just not *here*, with the windows and the smell of cooking grease and old paint. With the ghosts that still haunted the place. “Not here.”
“Where?”
**
Mikaela’s melancholy gone, replaced with arousal and youthful enthusiasm. Mia’s shirt yanked over Mia’s head and Mia’s about to ask where’s the fire when Mikaela’s lips clamp around a nipple and all cognitive thought is lost. There’s more kissing and groping and clothes peeled off, tossed and quickly forgotten. There’s skin and sweat, tongues and lips. Memories of their one time together turned to the desire to make new ones.
Mia’s rolled onto her back, Mikaela’s hips straddling her own, hands pinning Mia’s wrists to the mattress, blue eyes gazing down at her with desire and.. uncertainty.
“I want..” Mikaela blinked with an ‘oh shit, what do I do now?’ expression.
“It’s okay,” Mia smiled. “What ever it is, I guarantee I won’t be disappointed.”
That seemed to appease the younger woman because her lips were once again claiming Mia’s. Her hands released their grip on Mia’s wrists and began an exploration of Mia’s body. Calloused fingertips on her breasts quickly joined by lips and tongue, stroking, licking, suckling. Mia curled her hands under the pillow despite the heat building in her body and pooling between her legs. Mikaela would get *there* eventually, Mia just needed to be patient.
Mikaela turned explorer, trekking across Mia’s body with fingers, lips and tongue. Like any new explorer, Mikaela stumbled and stuttered, finding the well-traversed trails that made Mia gasp and moan, discovered and created new ones.
Mikaela’s between Mia’s legs, staring at flesh both achingly familiar and strangely alien. Mia balled her hands into fists, snapping her eyes closed. She can feel Mikaela’s breath on her, so close, so far away. Resists the urge to thread her fingers into the younger woman’s hair and push her where she needs Mikaela to be. For a moment, her thoughts turned to Letty and that first time, *her* first time.
Mia didn’t have to wait long. She felt Mikaela’s fingers spreading her open. Her back bowed, grunt rumbling up her throat at that first exploratory swipe of Mikaela’s tongue. One became two, three, four.. tip of tongue swiping along folds, prodding into crevices, flicking across her clit. And Mia stopped counting because it wasn’t so exploratory any more. Mikaela licked like she was enjoying it. And who was Mia to argue?
A slender finger slipped inside her, Mia groaned, Mikaela purred and Mia gasped at the vibrations that rumbled across her flesh. Another finger, the two twisting, turning, curling and then they were rubbing against *that* spot and Mia couldn’t stay silent anymore.
“Oh fuck, baby,” she grunted. “Right.. there.”
Lips quickly wrapped around her clit. Mia’s hips rolled in time with the fingers thrusting inside her. Fuck, had it really been that long? Had Brian really been *that* bad? This was more than ‘beginner’s luck’, understanding and reciprocation. Mikaela may have been ‘just the girl’ but she knew what *this* girl needed. Really knew.
Mia came hard. ‘Don’t stop’ rolling off her lips because if Mikaela did *that* Mia was definitely going to come again.
And she did. And Mikaela didn’t stop. Not until Mia’s fingers were finally threading into her hair, pulling her away from tingling and now over sensitive flesh.
Mikaela took her time ascending Mia’s body, with kisses and little nibbles. Ascended until she was staring down at Mia with sticky, wet lips and twinkling blue eyes.
“God,” Mia chuckled. “Don’t get all cocky on me.”
“Really?” Mikaela grinned back. “Because I saw this movie once and I was wondering..”
**
ONE MONTH LATER
There were noises coming from the garage, the familiar sounds of tools against metal. But, instead of a muscle car, a motorcycle sat in the middle of Mia’s garage.
She leaned against the opened doorway, arms folded across her chest, enjoying the familiarity of it all and, well of course, the view. Mia in her boots, amazingly short shorts and grease-stained t-shirt, lost in the music blaring from her headphones and the task of tinkering with her bike.
While there hadn’t been a U-Haul parked in front of Mia’s house, Mikaela spent the majority of her days, and nights, at the Toretto home. Mia wasn’t quite ready to define their relationship - fuck buddies seemed to callous and casual, girlfriends too formal and lovers too Harlequin romance. They were together, that much was certain. Mia had to admit she enjoyed having Mikaela around. Enjoyed having someone to fill the silence of the house besides Mia, enjoyed cooking for someone who actually appreciated the meals. Enjoyed the feeling of someone snuggled up beside her as she went to sleep. Someone who was still there when she awoke in the morning.
It was going to be Christmas soon and Mia’s already thinking about she and Mikaela putting up decorations (it’s been so long since Mia’s put up decorations) and what she’s going to get Mikaela for Christmas (customized hubs for the bike).
“Hey,” Mikaela pulled off her earpieces, still straddling the seat as she rose to her feet. “Here to take me for a ride?” she grinned and wiggled her eyebrows lasciviously.
Mia inhaled deeply, her train of thought suddenly gone. “Maybe later,” she paused at Mikaela’s overwrought pout with lower lip jutting outward action. “I just came to warn you that the Feds are back. I’m actually surprised it took them this long. Although, the upgrade is nice. Not everyday you see a Fed in a Camaro.”
“What?” She hurriedly swung her leg over the bike and marched towards the open door. Mikaela stopped in the doorway, eyes squinting angrily as she eyed the yellow Camaro parked a block from the house. “Son of a bitch! I‘ll be right back.”
With that, Mikaela was off, marching across the lawn and down the street. Mia watched as Mikaela stood in front of the Camaro, obviously yelling but not loud enough to be understood. Was she talking to the car?
A minute later, Mikaela was marching back into the garage. “It’s not the Feds,” Mikaela explained. “But my ex-boyfriend checking up on me.”
“Oh,” Mia managed. She watched the Camaro as it drove past the house and down the street out of sight. And, if she didn’t know any better, she could have sworn there was no driver behind the wheel.
I helped save the world. Twice. Mikaela’s words echoed in Mia’s brain and then she shook off the thought that followed.
**
Mia rolled her hips in a languid and swaying figure-eight motion. With just the right pace, agonizingly slow, she could fuck Mikaela like this all night. Well, almost. Mikaela’s nails were already digging into Mia’s back, her eyes practically rolling in the back of her head.
“Mia..” a pained whimper hissed from Mikaela’s lips.
“Not yet, baby,” she kissed Mikaela’s chin. “Just a little more.”
Mia loved this part - the right before. Right before Mikaela exploded into convulsions and moans. The increased tension. The tightening of muscles, the vein that formed on Mikaela’s forehead, the way her lips parted with a scream that refused to roar, legs wrapping around Mia’s hips, the hands sliding higher up Mia’s back. Mikaela’s silent calling for more.
Mia answered. Just a little, just enough to stretch the moment for a little while longer.
A little while didn’t last very long. Mikaela came and came hard. Calling Mia’s name before the sound devolved into an extended chord of incomprehensible nothingness.
“Oh, fuck me,” Mikaela groaned.
“I think I just did,” Mia chuckled then jutted her hips and smiled at the pleasure/pained hiss escaping Mikaela’s throat. “But if you want another go round just to be sure?”
“Fuck you, bitch,” Mikaela laughed.
Mia slowly withdrew, grazing the shaft against Mia’s clit one last time just to feel her shudder before rolling onto her back. She pulled the condom off and tossed into the wastebasket before working on the harness strapped around her hips. She once again rolled onto her side, propping her head up on her hand and using the other to paint lazy circles on Mikaela’s stomach.
Mikaela thread her fingers with Mia’s. “What’d you want to be when you grew up?”
“If this is your idea of pillow talk?” Mia laughed. “You need some serious work.”
“I’m serious,” Mikaela tilted her head towards Mia. “I want to know everything about you. All about little Mia and how she grew up to be big Mia.”
Mia squinted her eyes, the smile on her lips widened. “You still haven’t figured out what you’re getting me for Christmas, have you?”
“Am I that transparent?”
“A little but I find it adorable.”
“Ugh, you make me sound like a puppy.”
“You are. My big, adorable puppy, who’s always licking my face and dry humping my leg.”
“Well, when you put like that. I am pretty good at licking and humping.”
“Yes, you are. So, what should I be when I grow up?”
Mikaela stared at the ceiling, lost in thought. “I think you should be a chef.”
“Seriously?”
“Dude, your Molcajete makes me jizz my pants. And your mole? Fuck, you might as well call it ‘orgasm sauce’.”
“You have a strange way of making everything about sex.”
“And you,” Mikaela rolled onto Mia, “have a strange way of making everything sexy.”
“I take it someone’s recovered and ready for round two?”
“MmmHmm,” Mikaela purred, flicking her tongue across Mia’s lips. “Puppy’s ready to lick and hump you senseless.”
Mia wasn’t going to argue with that.
**
Mia’s eyes snapped open with a heart-in-throat intensity. Something was different, not right. She shifted, feeling Mikaela sound asleep next to her. Her mind began to drift, her body relaxed, eyelids becoming heavy again.
A creak.
Mia’s eyes snapped open again. A creak. Not the normal creak her house made in the night when it settled. No, this was different. This wasn’t the house. This was someone IN her house.
She rose quietly, not ready to wake Mikaela, or call the cops. She pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, grabbing the baseball bat by the door before heading into the hallway.
Another creak. The kitchen, her ears told her brain. The refrigerator door opened, closed, the pressurized gasp of a beer being opened.
Mia slowly made her way down the stairs, baseball bat at the ready. The first floor was illuminated by the street lights outside. It was dark but Mia’s eyes had already adjusted.
A figure sat at the kitchen table and Mia felt her heart freeze in her chest. Not from fright but shock. She knew that figure, knew his silhouette like the back of her hand.
“Dom?” she called out, although not quite ready to lower her bat.
“Put the fucking bat down,” he whispered but his gravely voice sounded like a chainsaw at full bore.
“Jesus Christ,” Mia lowered the bat and entered the kitchen. “You scared the shit out of me.”
Turning the kitchen light on was dangerous and stupid with Dom on the FBI’s Most Wanted list. But she had to *see* her brother, had to make sure this was real and not some fucked up dream.
Dom squinted at the harsh glare assaulting his eyes. He looked good, as good as a man on the run could look. He set his beer down and rose from his chair. “Can’t a brother get a hug?” he Dom smiled, all cocky half-grin, and Mia melted.
She closed the distance between them, sliding her arms around Dom’s waist as her face pressed against his broad chest. She squeezed her eyes shut from the salt burning at the corners. For a moment, they were little kids again, when it was just the two of them against the world and the safest place was Dom’s arms.
The moment passed. Mia pulled out of her brother’s embrace, balled her hand into a fist and slugged him straight across the jaw.
“You son of a bitch!” she hissed then shook her hand vigorously. “Ow!”
“I guess I deserved that,” Dom grinned, rubbing his jaw.
“That and a whole lot more. I’d ask where Brian is but, you know what, I don’t fucking care anymore. What do you want, Dom?”
“You think I’d let my baby sister spend Christmas alone?” he asked and then his tone turned accusatory. “But you’re not exactly alone these days, are you? Where’d you find her, Toys-R-Us?”
Just like that, the gloves had come off. Mia wasn’t ready to forgive and Dom never forgot.
“Fuck you,” Mia spat. “How old was Jesse when you taught him how to boost cars? How old was Letty when you hijacked your first truck? So don’t you dare get all self-righteous on me! Don’t you fucking dare judge me.”
“What’re you doing, Mia? She’s just a kid.”
“You know what, Dom? That fucking *kid* puts me FIRST! That fucking kid was there after you and Letty and Brian fucking abandoned me. And when you and Brian did it AGAIN! Again Dom!!” She slapped her hands on his chest and pushed hard. It was like moving a mountain but she got some gratification that he, at least, budged. But she couldn’t stop the tears this time, angrily wiped her face with a hand. It’s all Mia really wanted, having Dom back, but it came with a suitcase packed with still raw and bleeding emotions. A suitcase busted open, contents spilled all over the floor.
“Mia?”
Mia felt the first tinges of shame as she stared at Mikaela standing in the entrance to the kitchen, wearing one of Dom’s t-shirt that barely went past her hips, arms folded nervously over her chest, hair tossled and unkempt, looking impossibly young and uncertain. A lamb come to join the slaughter.
“Mikaela,” Mia didn’t know what else to say, or what to do. “This is my brother Dom.”
He nodded at Mikaela then turned his gaze to Mia, an almost impressed smirk on his lips.
“Do you want me to go back upstairs?” Mikaela asked.
“No, stay.” Mia reached out her arm, hand extended, felt a wash of relief as Mikaela stepped forward and clasped their hands together. She looked down at their joined hands then up at Dom. “This is my life now. Like it, don’t like it. I don’t care anymore, Dom. I can‘t.. do *this* anymore.”
Truth? Lie? Something in between? Mia didn’t know. Dom had made his choices, choices that were his bed to lie in. Mia was tired of doing it for him.
Dom inhaled deeply. Picking up his beer, he downed the half-empty bottle in one swallow and set the empty glass back on the table. He walked towards Mia, placed his hand on the side of her face, thumb wiping away the tear wetting his thumb. Leaning forward, he kissed Mia on the cheek. “I love you, baby girl. Don’t you ever forget that.”
He pulled his hand away, turned his gaze towards Mikaela. His eyes were hard, menacing, his voice a low growl. “You hurt her and I will break you.”
Dom made his way towards the front door. “Your present’s in the garage, bottom drawer of the tool box.”
With that, Dom exited the house, the door closing softly behind him.
The strength in her legs suddenly gone, Mia crumbled to the floor. Mikaela wrapped her arms around Mia’s shoulders and held her close.
**
“Holy shit!” Mikaela gasped. “Holy fucking shit!”
Sometime around dawn, Mikaela made her way to the garage to search for Dom’s present. Instead of a box wrapped in shiny paper with a bow, she found a mid-sized duffel bag stowed away in the bottom drawer of Dom’s toolbox.
A duffel bag filled with hundred dollar bills. Five hundred thousand worth of hundred dollar bills. Mikaela had counted. Twice.
“Holy shit.”
“You already said that.” Mia hadn’t spoken since Dom had left. She’d sat and watched Mikaela count and recount the bills with the rapture of a child opening presents quietly from her seat on the couch.
“What are you going to do with it?” Mikaela asked.
“Nothing.”
“Seriously?”
“It’s blood money, Mikaela.” And all it cost Mia was her brother. “It’s not like I can walk into a bank and make a deposit.”
“I guess you’re right.” Mikaela set the stack of wrapped bills in her hand with the others, her shoulders sagging slightly. Her eyes suddenly widened. “Can we at least have sex on it?” She nodded as if coming to a realization. “That’s what I want for Christmas. To get naked and have sex on a half million in hundred dollar bills.”
Mia chuckled. “And that’s why I love you.”
They both froze. A split second in time stretched to an eternity as the weight of that word hung heavy in the air. Mikaela finally turned her head towards Mia. Uncertainty in her eyes, to afraid to acknowledge what *this* really was, too afraid *not* to and lose it all together. Lord knows, it had taken the world almost being destroyed by aliens to get Sam to admit he loved her and, even then, it’d been like pulling teeth.
“Yeah,” she smiled sheepishly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s why I love you.”
Mia reached out and brushed the loose strands of hair off Mikaela’s forehead. It had never been like this with Brian, or any of the others even Letty - comfortable, secure, safe. Mikaela had a wild streak but she didn’t have that wanderlust in her eyes; one eye on Mia while the other focused on the horizon, searching for the next adventure, searching for the next opportunity to leave.
Mia’s fingers trailed down to Mikeala’s cheek then to her lips. “You still wanna have sex on the money?”
“I totally wanna have sex on the money!”
**
Mia lay on her side, head propped up with one hand while the other drew lazy circles on Mikaela’s stomach. They’d spent Christmas in Los Angeles. They’d agreed Mikaela should spend the majority of the day with her father. Mia still hadn’t met the man and figured Christmas wasn’t the best day to introduce him to the woman that was banging his daughter. So she spent her day at the diner, making food for the ‘orphans’, the ones who didn’t have family to spend Christmas with.
The week after, the two went to Hawaii. The last time Mia had been on something resembling a vacation her parents were still alive and Dom had yet to learn how to drive a car. Mikaela had never been on a proper vacation, let alone out of state. Especially not a vacation like this - a 5-star hotel, a room that overlooked the ocean and all the luxuries and services neither could have ever afforded before.
“I’ve been thinking about the money,” Mia mused aloud.
“Do you want to have sex on it?” Mikaela lifted her head, gazing about the bed. “Did you bring enough to have sex on?”
“We just had sex. A lot of sex,” Mia chuckled.
“I’m willing to get it up again to do it on the money.”
“’Get it up’?” Mia laughed. “God, you’re like a 14-year-old boy with a one-track mind.”
“Yes, ‘sex with Mia’. It’s like its own cable channel,” Mikaela gesticulated with her hands, painting an imaginary rectangular box in the air. “The Sex With Mia channel, 24/7, all sex with Mia, all the time. Ask me anytime of day what I‘m thinking about and chances are it‘s sex with you.”
“Can we get back to the topic?”
“I thought sex with you was the topic?”
“No,” Mia poked her playfully in the ribs. “I was talking about what to do with the money. And not just having sex on it.”
Mikaela rolled into Mia, turning the two until she was on top. “So you do want to have sex again?”
“I’m being serious.”
“So am I!” She stole a quick kiss and wagged her eyebrows lasciviously. “I take sex with you *very* seriously.”
“God, I’ve created a monster. No, seriously,” Mia quieted. “I want you to go to college.”
The playful smile disappeared and Mia felt the younger woman stiffen. “What?”
“I want to use the money for you to go to college.”
“Why?”
“Because I want you to want more. Because you deserve more from life than settling.”
“You think I’m settling for you?”
“No, that’s not what I meant. I just..,” Mia sighed, sliding her hands up Mikaela’s back. “I know what it’s like to be forced to sit on the sidelines and watch life pass you by. I don’t want that for you. I want you to have dreams and I want you to reach for them.”
“But,” Mikaela paused, her brows furrowing as she gazed down at Mia. “Doesn’t this leave you still sitting on the sidelines?”
Mia pursed her lips. She hadn’t really thought that far. She’d only thought so far as to using the money to make Mikaela’s life better. But, that’s what she always did. That’s what she was *supposed* to do - give and not expect anything in return.
“I’ll make a deal with you,” Mikaela spoke, breaking Mia from her thoughts. “I’ll go to college. But.. only if you do too.”
“What? Seriously?”
“Yep,” Mikaela nodded. “I’ll do it, but I’m not doing it alone.” She leaned down and nuzzled her nose against Mia’s cheek. “We can dream together and we can reach together. I don‘t want to do anything without you.”
“Are we still talking about college or sex?”
“I told you,” Mikaela kissed her, sliding her thigh a little deeper between Mia’s legs. “27/7, all day, every day.”
**
“Hey Toretto!” His name was Crash, a Tony Hawke wannabe with none of Tony Hawke’s skills on a skateboard.
“Yeah?” Mia yelled back, keeping her concentration focused on the frying pan before her.
“Is Dom back?”
“No,” she shook her head with a soft smile. People were always asking if Dom was back. “Why?”
“’Cuz you got about a billion Feds parked in front of your house.”
Mia pulled the frying pan off the aisle and ran. The restaurant was only a block from her house. Had she been paying attention, she would have seen the black sedans parked on her street, in her driveway. Guys dressed in black standing in her yard.
Had Dom actually come home? There was no other answer other than he’d gotten into trouble some where else and the Feds had come to her home, again, looking for answers. They hadn’t come to the restaurant looking for Mia.
She cut through a neighbor’s yard, running around back and hopping the fence into her own backyard. There were no Feds there. Cautiously and quietly, Mia entered through the back door. There were voices, two, a woman Mia didn’t recognize and Mikaela. She edged her way through the kitchen, ears straining as she eavesdropped.
“The answer’s still no,” she heard Mikaela say.
“Dammit, Mikaela!” The woman spoke. Someone Mia didn’t know. She sounded foreign. Australian, maybe? “Quit being so stubborn. They asked for you!”
“They? Or Sam?”
Mia peeked her head around the corner. Mikaela was in the center of the room, facing the window to the front yard. The woman stood close but distant. She didn’t dress like a Fed, with her jeans, blue camisole and leather jacket. She looked, well, gorgeous.
“You think that’s what this is about? Sam?” The woman stepped closer. “We all got the memo about your break-up. No, seriously. There was a memo. I’m not here because of Sam, Mikaela. They asked for you. They need you.” She stepped closer, intimately close, and placed a hand on Mikaela’s shoulder. “I need you.”
Mia had heard enough. She stepped out of the kitchen and into the living room. “What’s going on?”
Mikaela whipped around, looking all the world like someone had shot her puppy. The other woman glared, more shocked at the intrusion than angry. “Who the Hell are you?”
“I’m the woman who’s house you’re standing in. Who the Hell are you?”
“Maggie Madsen,” Mikaela explained. She looked as if she were to step towards Mia then thought better of it. “She works for the Department of Defense.”
Mia looked her up and down. “Seriously?”
“Yes,” Maggie huffed, rolling her eyes. “Why does no one ever believe me?”
“Probably because you look like that.”
“One can be attractive and intelligent.”
“In my experience,” Mia added, “those who are don’t work for the D.O.D.”
Maggie placed her hands on her head. This conversation wasn’t going anywhere it was supposed to. “Can we get back to the topic at hand.”
Mikaela finally dared to take that step towards Mia. “You know my answer. It’s still no.”
The wheels in Mia’s head started to turn, started to put the pieces together. The D.O.D. was here for Mikaela, not arresting her, asking for her assistance. Her head turned towards the younger woman, eyes widening in amazement. “You really did save the world.”
Mia smiled sheepishly. “Twice.”
“Third time’s the charm?” Maggie piped in.
Mikaela huffed. “You don’t need me.”
“We do! You don’t know what it’s like there. It’s all old guys in suits who’re still acting like the Cold War’s going on. They still don’t trust the Autobots and the Autobots can’t trust them.”
Mia placed her hand on Mikaela’s shoulder. “Why don’t you want to go?”
“Because of you,” Maggie answered.
“What?”
“If I leave, I might not ever come back.” She gazed at Mia, uncertainty in her big, blue eyes as the tears welled in them. “Fifty years from now, I don’t wanna look back and say I made the wrong choice.”
“That’s if,” Maggie interjected, “there *is* a fifty years from now.”
“All I want is you,” Mia shrugged.
“Mikaela,” Mia placed her fingertips under Mikaela’s chin. “Fifty years from now, I don’t wanna say you chose me over the world. It’s incredibly flattering and I don’t think I could love you more. I just can’t let you make that choice.”
**
Mikaela leaned back in her seat, sniffling and wiping her nose with her sleeve. Her other hand adjusted the duffel bag sitting on the seat between her and Maggie. There’d been no words between Mikaela and Mia as Mikaela packed, just tears and soft touches. When they embraced, Mikaela held onto Mia like she never wanted to let go.
Then she did.
The engine turned at Maggie’s instruction, the gears sliding into place and the car began moving forward.
Maggie placed her hand atop Mikaela’s, squeezing gently. “She really loves you.”
“I really love her,” Mikaela sniffled again, scrunching her face to keep the tears from flowing again.
“If she loves you, she’ll wait.”
“No.” Mikaela twisted in her seat until she faced the rear window. Faced a Mia standing in her front yard, arms folded over her chest, getting smaller and smaller as Mikaela drove away. “If she loves me, she won’t.”
**
17 MONTHS LATER
Mia placed her hands on her hips, arching her back, hearing the bones pop and crack as she stretched. Everything hurt - her back, her legs, her arms, even her hair seemed to hurt. She smelled like garlic and grease. A long, hot bath was definitely in her immediate future.
She packed the rest of her knives away as the remaining kitchen staff buzzed around her. A convention in town, a holiday weekend, the restaurant had been packed the moment it opened. Mia couldn’t even remember taking a break during the ten hours she’d been there.
“Hey Toretto!” one of the waiters called to her.
“Yeah?”
“There’s some jarhead at the door asking for you. I told her we’re closed but she won’t go away. Keeps talking about something called ‘orgasm sauce’.”
“Oh my God!” Mia was out the kitchen and running into the dining area.
Mikaela stood in the waiting area. She was wearing BDU’s; the green ones with the updated and ‘modern’ pixel pattern the military chose because they thought it would appeal to the ‘video game generation’. Her hair was pulled back and twisted into a bun. Her cap held in her hands, nervously worried by her fingers.
Mia skidded to a stop in the entrance. “Hi,” she managed.
“Hi,” Mikaela’s face lit up, big, broad smile and eyes twinkling, like someone had turned on a light within her.
“You know her?” the waiter huffed like a man who’d just realized no matter how many times he stepped to the plate he was always going to strike out.
“Yeah,” Mia answered, never taking her eyes off Mikaela.
Mikaela stepped forward, extending a hand to the waiter. “Mikaela Banes, Specialist Banes.”
He clasped his hand in hers, shaking it quickly then immediately releasing it. “You closing up?”
“Yeah,” Mia suddenly remembered there was someone else in the room. “I’ll close up.”
He just kinda disappeared because neither woman was really paying attention to him. A good, familiar tension rising in the air as the two women stared at each other.
“Wow,” Mia finally spoke. “Look at you.”
“Yeah,” Mikaela outstretched her arms. “My Dad’s over the moon. I never really saw myself as an Army type..”
Something snapped within Mia, like she’d been holding her breath for the past year and a half. She rushed towards Mikaela, throwing her arms around the younger woman. Her stomach fluttered as Mikaela returned the embrace and the two stood there for a long quiet moment holding each other.
“C’mon,” Mia gently pushed them apart, clasping her hand around Mikaela’s and pulling her deeper into the restaurant. “Let’s sit down.”
“Nice place,” Mikaela took the seat across from Mia. “You work here now?”
“I’m the new sous chef,” Mia beamed shyly, tucking a lock of hair behind an ear. “After you left, I got accepted into culinary school.”
“Really? That’s great!”
“Yeah, didn’t even have to use.. the money,” her voice lowered for a moment. “Apparently, my mole is like orgasm sauce.”
“I told you!” Mikaela shifted animatedly in her seat. “I went by your house earlier,” she paused, brows furrowing. “You sold it?”
Mia inhaled solemnly. She’s sold the house and the diner. Her mind had already been set by the time Dom had returned and saw the ‘for sale’ sign on the lawn. There were arguments that bordered on fights. In the end, Mia explained, it wasn’t a house to her - it was a graveyard, and Mia was tired of living with ghosts. “I needed a fresh start,” was all she could manage to say.
“I’m sorry,” Mikaela set the hat she was holding onto the table then used the same hand to run nervously over her head. “I meant to call.. Or write. Something.”
“It’s okay. I kinda knew what the stakes were when you left. I don’t hate or blame you.”
Mikaela exhaled, shoulders sagging like a giant weight had been lifted. She smiled sheepishly, lowering her head and gazing up at Mia playfully. “Any girlfriends.. Boyfriends?”
“There was someone,” she watched as Mikaela’s shoulders fell. “For awhile. It didn’t last very long. Too many unresolved issues with the ex.” Just like that, Mikaela perked up. “What about you?”
The soldier snorted. “One-night stands and pity fucks. The only long-term relationship I have is with my vibrator and I think it wants to break up,” she chuckled. “Too many unresolved issues with the ex.”
Mia smiled, slid her hand across the table, threading her fingers with Mikaela’s. “This ex must be pretty special.”
“Yeah,” Mikaela smiled back. “The kinda girl you save the world for.”
“Damn, you saved the world for her? I hope she can adequately say thank you.”
**
There would be time to show Mikaela Mia’s new home in Venice Beach. Right now, all Mia cared about was getting Mikaela out of her clothes. Connected at the lips, they pushed/pulled, staggered deeper into the house, stumbled into Mia’s bedroom.
Mia turned the two around, pushing Mikaela and she flopped backwards onto the bed. Mia pulled off her boots, yanked at the camouflaged pants and tossed them into the darkness. She had a new life now. A new life that didn’t revolve around cars or cops or ghosts. Now, this new life included Mikaela. Letting Mikaela go had been hard, harder than ever before because no one had ever asked Mia before. No one had ever let her make that decision. They’d always just left.
She clambered onto the bed, crawling over Mikaela’s body like a panther towards its prey. Hurriedly kissed her stomach, her breasts, collarbone and neck, finally claiming soft, full lips. Lips she’d longed to kiss for so long, too long. She whimpered into Mikaela’s mouth, at the hands gliding down her back, cupping her ass, sliding between her legs.
Hurried and hungry, almost desperate, like if they even paused for a moment it wouldn’t be real. Mia slipped her thigh between Mikaela’s legs, felt the rush of breath into her mouth as she pressed hard muscle under smooth skin against Mikaela’s wet heat. Mikaela lifted her leg and Mia moaned as she pressed down.
Her hands pushed towards her head, Mia thread her fingers into Mikaela’s as they found their rhythm, fast and frenzied and headboard slamming against the wall rough.
“Mia..” Mikaela keened as she came, bucking and trembling under Mia. Mia panted into the crook of Mikaela’s neck, not quite there yet but close. So close. Mikaela freed a hand, slipped it between them. Mia angled her hips, two fingers inside her. Just a little deeper. There. There. There.
They were slower the next round, more kissing, touching, caressing. Mia noticed the scar on Mikaela’s stomach as she kissed her way down. It started at the bottom of her left breast, angled across her stomach. Nothing more than a scar, Mia still tried to kiss the pain away. Until fingers were threading in her hair, gently but insistently pushing Mia where Mikaela wanted her to be.
And Mikaela returned the favor with the eagerness and enthusiasm Mia loved so much about her. Mikaela pleasured her with an expertise that had never been there before. Did a few things even Mia had never thought of.
In the morning, Mia awoke first and watched as Mikaela slept soundly and contentedly. She noted the other scars on Mikaela’s body, lips pursing as she thought of the stories behind and whether Mikaela would ever tell them. She watched her fingers drift lower, underneath the sheet covering Mikaela’s stomach. Gently ran her fingers through coarse and still damp curls, lower still, softly stroking, feeling Mikaela’s growing warmth and wetness.
Mikaela groaned, eyes fluttering lazily open.
“Good morning,” Mia purred.
“Good,” Mikaela grunted, hips arching, “fucking morning.”
“Better than a vibrator?”
“Definitely better than a vibrator.”
Mia leaned down, sucking Mikaela’s nipple into her mouth. She pulled back until it released from her mouth with a wet pop. “What do you want for breakfast?”
“I already know what you’re having!” Mikaela laughed, shifting her legs as Mia descended. She grunted from the sudden shockwave reverberating up her body. Certainly wasn’t expecting *that*. “Fuck! If this is your idea of breakfast, do I even want to know what you’re having for lunch?”
**
Mikaela stayed in bed, preferring to watch Mia, fresh from the shower, get dressed for work.
Mia pulled back her hair, wrapping it into a ponytail. “Don’t you have to go back to work or something?”
“Nope. I’m on furlough,” Mikaela rolled onto her back, tucking her hands behind her head. “For an entire month.”
“Furlough? Wow, you really are in the military,” Mia sat on the edge of the mattress and began pulling on her shoes. “So, I have you for an entire month?”
“You can have me for the rest of your life, if you want.”
“Mikaela..”
“Marry me,” she blurted.
“What?”
“Oh wow,” Mikaela rose onto her elbows. “That was like the worst proposal ever. I was hoping for something a bit more romantic, like a candlelit dinner or something.”
Mia half-smiled and placed her hand atop Mikaela’s. “I don’t think you’re ready for marriage.”
“Don‘t. Don‘t tell me what I am or am not ready for. Isn‘t that what everyone was always doing to you? Telling you what you could or couldn‘t do?”
Mia looked down at the hand covering her own.
“Tell me you don’t want this,” Mikaela whispered, voice almost cracking. “Tell me you don’t love me.”
“Mikaela..”
Mikaela rose, sliding her legs off the edge and scooting next to Mia. “I know what I want. I want you, Mia. You. I wanna go to sleep with you next to me and wake up in your arms. I wanna serve you breakfast in bed.” She leaned closer, pressing her forehead against Mia’s. “All that stupid shit other couples do because they allowed themselves to dream. A house. A dog. Fuck it, a white picket fence. I don’t care, just as long as it’s with you.”
“Who knew?” Mia chuckled softly, brushing her fingers over Mikaela‘s lips. “Mikaela Banes is a hopeless romantic.”
Her lips spread into a soft smile. “Did I mention the babies? I wanna make lots and lots of babies.”
“I don’t think we’re properly equipped.”
“Pfft, you know me, I’m all about the doing it part,” she wagged her eyebrows. “Besides, with the way we do, I wouldn’t be surprised if one of us got pregnant.” She brushed her lips across Mia’s ear, whispering softly. “Say you’ll marry me.”
Mia closed her eyes, exhaling softly, a weight of ‘what if’s’ lifting off her shoulders. Nothing in her life had ever been easy. But that was when everything in her life had been chosen for her. Back when she was supposed to be nothing more than ‘just the girl’.
Mia opened her eyes.
“Yes.”
**
FIVE YEARS LATER
The perfect California day turned to the perfect California night; crystal clear skies, a full moon making its gentle descent into the Pacific, the light twinkling off the cresting waves crashing against the shore. Mia watched through the windows of her and Mikaela’s bedroom in the two-story home. She inhaled deeply, tasting the salty air, gently swaying in the antique rocking chair originally owned by her grandmother.
The tiny bundle in her arms stirred. Mia looked down, cooing quietly as she caressed her daughter’s cheek with a thumb. She still couldn’t quite believe it.
It had been Mikaela’s idea but Mia had always assumed she’d been the one carrying their first child. Assumed, that is, until Mikaela suggested Dom be the donor. Mia had been mortified and kinda grossed out by Mikaela’s ‘I only want a Toretto inside me’ reasoning’s. Like a blade over a whet stone, Mikaela ground Mia towards acceptance and Mia realized Mikaela wanting Dom as the father meant ‘donor’ and not ‘I want to sleep with your brother’.
Dom never got to see his baby girl. Three months before her birth, Dom’s past caught up with him. A past even Mikaela’s connections with the D.O.D. couldn’t shield him from. Too many enemies with an ax to grind. On a cold day in September, Dominic Toretto was shot dead across the border in Mexico.
Mia thought she’d never get over the pain. Then, Dominique Annabelle (after Mikaela’s mother) Banes-Toretto was born; tiny and pink and absolutely perfect, with Dom’s ears, Mia’s smile and Mikaela’s eyes. The best of all their world’s in one tiny, perfect little package.
Dom wasn’t gone, not completely. He was here in her arms and she could only imagine how much of the father was in daughter, how much of *her* was in her child. Mia leaned down and kissed the newborn on the forehead.
“Just when I think you can’t get any sexier..” Mia looked up to see Mikaela on her side watching the two of them. “I wake up to this.”
“Sorry,” Mia whispered. “Did I wake you?”
“No,” Mikaela rolled up to a seated position. “Actually, yes. I reached out and you weren’t there.” She rose to her feet in her over-sized t-shirt with ‘Army‘ stenciled in bold letters across the front, quietly joining Mia at the window. “Thinking about Dom?”
Mia chuckled, marveling at how someone who’d known her for a little over five years knew her so well. How a frivolous one-night stand turned into the best thing that had ever happened to her. “It’s like every time I hold her I can feel him here with me.”
“He is,” Mikaela gently pulled Dominique from Mia’s arms and cradled her. “Isn’t he, baby girl?”
Under the sound of wind and surf, they could hear heavy footsteps on sand, along with gears and pistons. Mikaela stepped towards the window, Mia rising from the rocking chair and joining her.
Standing on the beach, silhouetted by the setting moon stood Arcee, an Autobot. A robot, when not standing on the beach below their home, that usually took the form of Mikaela’s motorcycle.
A month after they were married, Mikaela told Mia about the Transformers, alien robots now here on earth and their war with the Decepticons. Two years later, the rest of the world followed and Mikaela, Chief Mechanic (she hated the word Engineer) to the Autobots, and her chef wife Mia found themselves in the position of pseudo-celebrities. The fame brought customers to Mia’s new restaurant Toretto’s and multiple offers for cooking shows. There were movie deals and books offers. The couple declined them all. All they ever really wanted was each other, a family, a home.
Mia draped her arm over Mikaela’s shoulder, kissing her gently on the cheek as the two watched the moon set into the Pacific. Mia had never really dreamed before. Not until she’d met Mikaela. Now, she had a wife many called a hero instead of a criminal, a business of her own, a home and now a child. Not bad for two women raised in a world that expected nothing more of them than to be..
Just the girl.
END
A/N #2: Holy.. 8079 words!?! I can't remember the last time I wrote anything with 8k!! I know the ending got kinda info-dumpy but I wanted the story to be less about the adventures the two were having when they were apart and more about the changes they brought forth in each other. I thought about making Mia more of a bandido like her brother but, ultimately, felt for this story Mia would choose a life a bit more stable. Besides, the great thing about fan fic is I can always write a Mia/Mikaela on the run in Mexico later!
x-posted to passion_perfect, girlslash
Fandom: x-over - The Fast and the Furious/Transformers
Pairing: Mia Toretto/Mikaela Banes
Rating: Mature - for sex between consenting adult women
Word Count: 8079
Summary: Mia and Mikaela‘s relationship blossoms into more than either ever intended.
A/N: Sequel to "Home Fires", takes place after FatF 4 and Transformers 2, with a few minor changes to FatF 4 canon.
**
It had been five months since Mia had seen Mikaela. It was early in the morning, an atypical day for LA - cloudy and raining. Mikaela looked like a drowned puppy, sitting on the cement, back against the closed gate, arms wrapped around her legs, chin on her knees.
“Mikaela?” Mia called out as she approached. Mikaela rose to her feet like the tough-girl she’s supposed to be. But it’s nothing more than posturing. Mikaela’s eyes are red and puffy, her lower lip begins to quiver.
“I didn’t know where else to go,” she mumbled before the bow broke and her tears are flowed freely again.
Mia pulled her into her arms, cooed and ran a calming hand down the back of Mikaela’s head.
**
The ‘closed’ sign stayed in place. There wouldn’t be any customers anyway. Mia sat with her elbows on the countertop, chin resting between her joined palms, marveling at the younger woman’s metabolism as she plowed through her second plate of banana and blueberry topped pancakes. The sole child of an ex-con, Mia doubted there’d been many home-cooked meals on Mikaela’s plates.
So the two sat in silence, listening to the rain as Mikaela ate and Mia watched, remembering the days when she could eat like a horse and not worry about it showing up on her ass the next morning. She gave Mikaela one of Dom’s old sweatshirts still stowed away behind the counter. The girl looked like she was swimming in it. But it was dry and warm.
“This is really good,” Mikaela finally spoke between a shovel full of pancake. She reached the point between eating and playing with her food, painting trails in the syrup on her plate with her fork. “We broke up,” she sighed, finally setting the fork down.
“I’m sorry,” Mia spoke softly. She remembered when Brian left - the first time - and the many pointless tears she’d shed. It’d been easier the second time around. Dom came back. Brian came back. When Mia protested Dom’s plan to avenge Letty’s death, Dom had shut her out. When Dom was arrested, Brian shut her out and broke Dom out of jail. She’d shed tears for the brother she was probably never going to see again. Shed tears for a love that was never meant to be. She shed tears for herself and for thinking, this time, things were going to be different because, this time, she’d be the one to make a difference.
She’d been wrong - again.
“If it’s any consolation,” Mia reached out, placing her hand on Mikaela’s forearm. “My boyfriend dumped me.”
“He’s an idiot. Did he ever eat your pancakes? ‘Cuz anyone who eats these pancakes and doesn‘t throw themselves at your feet and swear to be your sex slave for life is definitely an idiot.” Suddenly, Mikaela brought a hand to her mouth. She’d been babbling and didn’t realize it until *after* the words had fallen from her lips.
Mia laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” Mia rose to her feet. She grabbed the plate and headed towards the kitchen. “You want some more?”
“God, no. I‘m stuffed,” Mikaela groaned, rubbing a hand over her stomach. “Unless you have some bacon back there. No!” she shook her head vigorously. “I’m full. Totally.”
Another laugh filled the air. Mia returned from the kitchen, refilling Mikaela’s glass of milk and her own cup of coffee. She stayed behind the counter, leaning against the surface.
Mikaela took another long swallow of her glass of milk. The kind of swallow that made Mia wonder when the last time the girl had eaten but knew enough to not question. Mikaela set the glass down, wiped her milk mustache away with the sleeve of Dom’s sweatshirt, her face going sheepish and apologetic after realizing what she’d done.
“Sorry,” she mumbled.
“Mikaela,” Mia paused until the girl’s eyes raised and met her own. “Quit apologizing. I’m glad you came to me.”
That seemed to get a smile from the younger woman. Mikaela’s eyes returned to her glass and the fingers wrapped around it.
“Did you know one of the astronauts from the first moon landing went into a huge depression after they returned to earth?” she finally spoke. “Like, he came back and he was this huge star and everything but all he could think was ‘I walked on the moon. How’s anything in my life going to compare to that now?’” Mikaela sniffled, scrunching her face to keep her lower lip from trembling. “I helped save the world. Twice,” she lifted her eyes to meet Mia’s then lowered them again. “Nobody knows about it, of course. Then again, nobody cares. Sam saved the world twice and he got everything. I realized I was always going to be the girl who’s with the boy who saved the world. I guess I realized I’d always be second to Sam, even between the two of us. I’d walked on the moon and it didn‘t matter.”
Mia stayed silent. She wasn’t sure what to say. She only understood about half of what Mikaela had said. She understood the part about always being second. Understood the part of always being just the girl.
She set her coffee cup down and walked around the counter. Fingers cupping Mikaela’s chin, she lifted the younger woman’s face and gently pressed her lips against Mikaela’s.
“Thank you,” she whispered quietly as their lips parted.
“For what?”
“For saving the world.”
Slender arms suddenly wrapped around Mia’s waist and Mikaela’s body relaxed and eased in Mia’s arms as if some giant weight had been lifted from her shoulders. The tears came again, softer and quieter, wetting the crook of Mia’s neck where Mikaela’s face rested. Mia didn’t mind. She wished someone had been there to hold her the first time her world had crumbled.
Mia kissed the side of Mikaela’s forehead, the corner of an eye. Michaela’s head lifted and their lips met, the arms around Mia’s waist tightened, the air thickened. Heartbeats rose and breaths quickened. What was soft and gentle became hurried, urgent. The need to be held and consoled turned quickly into a need to be touched, to be loved.
“Mikaela,” Mia whimpered breathlessly, pulling them apart. She wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to. Just not *here*, with the windows and the smell of cooking grease and old paint. With the ghosts that still haunted the place. “Not here.”
“Where?”
**
Mikaela’s melancholy gone, replaced with arousal and youthful enthusiasm. Mia’s shirt yanked over Mia’s head and Mia’s about to ask where’s the fire when Mikaela’s lips clamp around a nipple and all cognitive thought is lost. There’s more kissing and groping and clothes peeled off, tossed and quickly forgotten. There’s skin and sweat, tongues and lips. Memories of their one time together turned to the desire to make new ones.
Mia’s rolled onto her back, Mikaela’s hips straddling her own, hands pinning Mia’s wrists to the mattress, blue eyes gazing down at her with desire and.. uncertainty.
“I want..” Mikaela blinked with an ‘oh shit, what do I do now?’ expression.
“It’s okay,” Mia smiled. “What ever it is, I guarantee I won’t be disappointed.”
That seemed to appease the younger woman because her lips were once again claiming Mia’s. Her hands released their grip on Mia’s wrists and began an exploration of Mia’s body. Calloused fingertips on her breasts quickly joined by lips and tongue, stroking, licking, suckling. Mia curled her hands under the pillow despite the heat building in her body and pooling between her legs. Mikaela would get *there* eventually, Mia just needed to be patient.
Mikaela turned explorer, trekking across Mia’s body with fingers, lips and tongue. Like any new explorer, Mikaela stumbled and stuttered, finding the well-traversed trails that made Mia gasp and moan, discovered and created new ones.
Mikaela’s between Mia’s legs, staring at flesh both achingly familiar and strangely alien. Mia balled her hands into fists, snapping her eyes closed. She can feel Mikaela’s breath on her, so close, so far away. Resists the urge to thread her fingers into the younger woman’s hair and push her where she needs Mikaela to be. For a moment, her thoughts turned to Letty and that first time, *her* first time.
Mia didn’t have to wait long. She felt Mikaela’s fingers spreading her open. Her back bowed, grunt rumbling up her throat at that first exploratory swipe of Mikaela’s tongue. One became two, three, four.. tip of tongue swiping along folds, prodding into crevices, flicking across her clit. And Mia stopped counting because it wasn’t so exploratory any more. Mikaela licked like she was enjoying it. And who was Mia to argue?
A slender finger slipped inside her, Mia groaned, Mikaela purred and Mia gasped at the vibrations that rumbled across her flesh. Another finger, the two twisting, turning, curling and then they were rubbing against *that* spot and Mia couldn’t stay silent anymore.
“Oh fuck, baby,” she grunted. “Right.. there.”
Lips quickly wrapped around her clit. Mia’s hips rolled in time with the fingers thrusting inside her. Fuck, had it really been that long? Had Brian really been *that* bad? This was more than ‘beginner’s luck’, understanding and reciprocation. Mikaela may have been ‘just the girl’ but she knew what *this* girl needed. Really knew.
Mia came hard. ‘Don’t stop’ rolling off her lips because if Mikaela did *that* Mia was definitely going to come again.
And she did. And Mikaela didn’t stop. Not until Mia’s fingers were finally threading into her hair, pulling her away from tingling and now over sensitive flesh.
Mikaela took her time ascending Mia’s body, with kisses and little nibbles. Ascended until she was staring down at Mia with sticky, wet lips and twinkling blue eyes.
“God,” Mia chuckled. “Don’t get all cocky on me.”
“Really?” Mikaela grinned back. “Because I saw this movie once and I was wondering..”
**
ONE MONTH LATER
There were noises coming from the garage, the familiar sounds of tools against metal. But, instead of a muscle car, a motorcycle sat in the middle of Mia’s garage.
She leaned against the opened doorway, arms folded across her chest, enjoying the familiarity of it all and, well of course, the view. Mia in her boots, amazingly short shorts and grease-stained t-shirt, lost in the music blaring from her headphones and the task of tinkering with her bike.
While there hadn’t been a U-Haul parked in front of Mia’s house, Mikaela spent the majority of her days, and nights, at the Toretto home. Mia wasn’t quite ready to define their relationship - fuck buddies seemed to callous and casual, girlfriends too formal and lovers too Harlequin romance. They were together, that much was certain. Mia had to admit she enjoyed having Mikaela around. Enjoyed having someone to fill the silence of the house besides Mia, enjoyed cooking for someone who actually appreciated the meals. Enjoyed the feeling of someone snuggled up beside her as she went to sleep. Someone who was still there when she awoke in the morning.
It was going to be Christmas soon and Mia’s already thinking about she and Mikaela putting up decorations (it’s been so long since Mia’s put up decorations) and what she’s going to get Mikaela for Christmas (customized hubs for the bike).
“Hey,” Mikaela pulled off her earpieces, still straddling the seat as she rose to her feet. “Here to take me for a ride?” she grinned and wiggled her eyebrows lasciviously.
Mia inhaled deeply, her train of thought suddenly gone. “Maybe later,” she paused at Mikaela’s overwrought pout with lower lip jutting outward action. “I just came to warn you that the Feds are back. I’m actually surprised it took them this long. Although, the upgrade is nice. Not everyday you see a Fed in a Camaro.”
“What?” She hurriedly swung her leg over the bike and marched towards the open door. Mikaela stopped in the doorway, eyes squinting angrily as she eyed the yellow Camaro parked a block from the house. “Son of a bitch! I‘ll be right back.”
With that, Mikaela was off, marching across the lawn and down the street. Mia watched as Mikaela stood in front of the Camaro, obviously yelling but not loud enough to be understood. Was she talking to the car?
A minute later, Mikaela was marching back into the garage. “It’s not the Feds,” Mikaela explained. “But my ex-boyfriend checking up on me.”
“Oh,” Mia managed. She watched the Camaro as it drove past the house and down the street out of sight. And, if she didn’t know any better, she could have sworn there was no driver behind the wheel.
I helped save the world. Twice. Mikaela’s words echoed in Mia’s brain and then she shook off the thought that followed.
**
Mia rolled her hips in a languid and swaying figure-eight motion. With just the right pace, agonizingly slow, she could fuck Mikaela like this all night. Well, almost. Mikaela’s nails were already digging into Mia’s back, her eyes practically rolling in the back of her head.
“Mia..” a pained whimper hissed from Mikaela’s lips.
“Not yet, baby,” she kissed Mikaela’s chin. “Just a little more.”
Mia loved this part - the right before. Right before Mikaela exploded into convulsions and moans. The increased tension. The tightening of muscles, the vein that formed on Mikaela’s forehead, the way her lips parted with a scream that refused to roar, legs wrapping around Mia’s hips, the hands sliding higher up Mia’s back. Mikaela’s silent calling for more.
Mia answered. Just a little, just enough to stretch the moment for a little while longer.
A little while didn’t last very long. Mikaela came and came hard. Calling Mia’s name before the sound devolved into an extended chord of incomprehensible nothingness.
“Oh, fuck me,” Mikaela groaned.
“I think I just did,” Mia chuckled then jutted her hips and smiled at the pleasure/pained hiss escaping Mikaela’s throat. “But if you want another go round just to be sure?”
“Fuck you, bitch,” Mikaela laughed.
Mia slowly withdrew, grazing the shaft against Mia’s clit one last time just to feel her shudder before rolling onto her back. She pulled the condom off and tossed into the wastebasket before working on the harness strapped around her hips. She once again rolled onto her side, propping her head up on her hand and using the other to paint lazy circles on Mikaela’s stomach.
Mikaela thread her fingers with Mia’s. “What’d you want to be when you grew up?”
“If this is your idea of pillow talk?” Mia laughed. “You need some serious work.”
“I’m serious,” Mikaela tilted her head towards Mia. “I want to know everything about you. All about little Mia and how she grew up to be big Mia.”
Mia squinted her eyes, the smile on her lips widened. “You still haven’t figured out what you’re getting me for Christmas, have you?”
“Am I that transparent?”
“A little but I find it adorable.”
“Ugh, you make me sound like a puppy.”
“You are. My big, adorable puppy, who’s always licking my face and dry humping my leg.”
“Well, when you put like that. I am pretty good at licking and humping.”
“Yes, you are. So, what should I be when I grow up?”
Mikaela stared at the ceiling, lost in thought. “I think you should be a chef.”
“Seriously?”
“Dude, your Molcajete makes me jizz my pants. And your mole? Fuck, you might as well call it ‘orgasm sauce’.”
“You have a strange way of making everything about sex.”
“And you,” Mikaela rolled onto Mia, “have a strange way of making everything sexy.”
“I take it someone’s recovered and ready for round two?”
“MmmHmm,” Mikaela purred, flicking her tongue across Mia’s lips. “Puppy’s ready to lick and hump you senseless.”
Mia wasn’t going to argue with that.
**
Mia’s eyes snapped open with a heart-in-throat intensity. Something was different, not right. She shifted, feeling Mikaela sound asleep next to her. Her mind began to drift, her body relaxed, eyelids becoming heavy again.
A creak.
Mia’s eyes snapped open again. A creak. Not the normal creak her house made in the night when it settled. No, this was different. This wasn’t the house. This was someone IN her house.
She rose quietly, not ready to wake Mikaela, or call the cops. She pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, grabbing the baseball bat by the door before heading into the hallway.
Another creak. The kitchen, her ears told her brain. The refrigerator door opened, closed, the pressurized gasp of a beer being opened.
Mia slowly made her way down the stairs, baseball bat at the ready. The first floor was illuminated by the street lights outside. It was dark but Mia’s eyes had already adjusted.
A figure sat at the kitchen table and Mia felt her heart freeze in her chest. Not from fright but shock. She knew that figure, knew his silhouette like the back of her hand.
“Dom?” she called out, although not quite ready to lower her bat.
“Put the fucking bat down,” he whispered but his gravely voice sounded like a chainsaw at full bore.
“Jesus Christ,” Mia lowered the bat and entered the kitchen. “You scared the shit out of me.”
Turning the kitchen light on was dangerous and stupid with Dom on the FBI’s Most Wanted list. But she had to *see* her brother, had to make sure this was real and not some fucked up dream.
Dom squinted at the harsh glare assaulting his eyes. He looked good, as good as a man on the run could look. He set his beer down and rose from his chair. “Can’t a brother get a hug?” he Dom smiled, all cocky half-grin, and Mia melted.
She closed the distance between them, sliding her arms around Dom’s waist as her face pressed against his broad chest. She squeezed her eyes shut from the salt burning at the corners. For a moment, they were little kids again, when it was just the two of them against the world and the safest place was Dom’s arms.
The moment passed. Mia pulled out of her brother’s embrace, balled her hand into a fist and slugged him straight across the jaw.
“You son of a bitch!” she hissed then shook her hand vigorously. “Ow!”
“I guess I deserved that,” Dom grinned, rubbing his jaw.
“That and a whole lot more. I’d ask where Brian is but, you know what, I don’t fucking care anymore. What do you want, Dom?”
“You think I’d let my baby sister spend Christmas alone?” he asked and then his tone turned accusatory. “But you’re not exactly alone these days, are you? Where’d you find her, Toys-R-Us?”
Just like that, the gloves had come off. Mia wasn’t ready to forgive and Dom never forgot.
“Fuck you,” Mia spat. “How old was Jesse when you taught him how to boost cars? How old was Letty when you hijacked your first truck? So don’t you dare get all self-righteous on me! Don’t you fucking dare judge me.”
“What’re you doing, Mia? She’s just a kid.”
“You know what, Dom? That fucking *kid* puts me FIRST! That fucking kid was there after you and Letty and Brian fucking abandoned me. And when you and Brian did it AGAIN! Again Dom!!” She slapped her hands on his chest and pushed hard. It was like moving a mountain but she got some gratification that he, at least, budged. But she couldn’t stop the tears this time, angrily wiped her face with a hand. It’s all Mia really wanted, having Dom back, but it came with a suitcase packed with still raw and bleeding emotions. A suitcase busted open, contents spilled all over the floor.
“Mia?”
Mia felt the first tinges of shame as she stared at Mikaela standing in the entrance to the kitchen, wearing one of Dom’s t-shirt that barely went past her hips, arms folded nervously over her chest, hair tossled and unkempt, looking impossibly young and uncertain. A lamb come to join the slaughter.
“Mikaela,” Mia didn’t know what else to say, or what to do. “This is my brother Dom.”
He nodded at Mikaela then turned his gaze to Mia, an almost impressed smirk on his lips.
“Do you want me to go back upstairs?” Mikaela asked.
“No, stay.” Mia reached out her arm, hand extended, felt a wash of relief as Mikaela stepped forward and clasped their hands together. She looked down at their joined hands then up at Dom. “This is my life now. Like it, don’t like it. I don’t care anymore, Dom. I can‘t.. do *this* anymore.”
Truth? Lie? Something in between? Mia didn’t know. Dom had made his choices, choices that were his bed to lie in. Mia was tired of doing it for him.
Dom inhaled deeply. Picking up his beer, he downed the half-empty bottle in one swallow and set the empty glass back on the table. He walked towards Mia, placed his hand on the side of her face, thumb wiping away the tear wetting his thumb. Leaning forward, he kissed Mia on the cheek. “I love you, baby girl. Don’t you ever forget that.”
He pulled his hand away, turned his gaze towards Mikaela. His eyes were hard, menacing, his voice a low growl. “You hurt her and I will break you.”
Dom made his way towards the front door. “Your present’s in the garage, bottom drawer of the tool box.”
With that, Dom exited the house, the door closing softly behind him.
The strength in her legs suddenly gone, Mia crumbled to the floor. Mikaela wrapped her arms around Mia’s shoulders and held her close.
**
“Holy shit!” Mikaela gasped. “Holy fucking shit!”
Sometime around dawn, Mikaela made her way to the garage to search for Dom’s present. Instead of a box wrapped in shiny paper with a bow, she found a mid-sized duffel bag stowed away in the bottom drawer of Dom’s toolbox.
A duffel bag filled with hundred dollar bills. Five hundred thousand worth of hundred dollar bills. Mikaela had counted. Twice.
“Holy shit.”
“You already said that.” Mia hadn’t spoken since Dom had left. She’d sat and watched Mikaela count and recount the bills with the rapture of a child opening presents quietly from her seat on the couch.
“What are you going to do with it?” Mikaela asked.
“Nothing.”
“Seriously?”
“It’s blood money, Mikaela.” And all it cost Mia was her brother. “It’s not like I can walk into a bank and make a deposit.”
“I guess you’re right.” Mikaela set the stack of wrapped bills in her hand with the others, her shoulders sagging slightly. Her eyes suddenly widened. “Can we at least have sex on it?” She nodded as if coming to a realization. “That’s what I want for Christmas. To get naked and have sex on a half million in hundred dollar bills.”
Mia chuckled. “And that’s why I love you.”
They both froze. A split second in time stretched to an eternity as the weight of that word hung heavy in the air. Mikaela finally turned her head towards Mia. Uncertainty in her eyes, to afraid to acknowledge what *this* really was, too afraid *not* to and lose it all together. Lord knows, it had taken the world almost being destroyed by aliens to get Sam to admit he loved her and, even then, it’d been like pulling teeth.
“Yeah,” she smiled sheepishly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s why I love you.”
Mia reached out and brushed the loose strands of hair off Mikaela’s forehead. It had never been like this with Brian, or any of the others even Letty - comfortable, secure, safe. Mikaela had a wild streak but she didn’t have that wanderlust in her eyes; one eye on Mia while the other focused on the horizon, searching for the next adventure, searching for the next opportunity to leave.
Mia’s fingers trailed down to Mikeala’s cheek then to her lips. “You still wanna have sex on the money?”
“I totally wanna have sex on the money!”
**
Mia lay on her side, head propped up with one hand while the other drew lazy circles on Mikaela’s stomach. They’d spent Christmas in Los Angeles. They’d agreed Mikaela should spend the majority of the day with her father. Mia still hadn’t met the man and figured Christmas wasn’t the best day to introduce him to the woman that was banging his daughter. So she spent her day at the diner, making food for the ‘orphans’, the ones who didn’t have family to spend Christmas with.
The week after, the two went to Hawaii. The last time Mia had been on something resembling a vacation her parents were still alive and Dom had yet to learn how to drive a car. Mikaela had never been on a proper vacation, let alone out of state. Especially not a vacation like this - a 5-star hotel, a room that overlooked the ocean and all the luxuries and services neither could have ever afforded before.
“I’ve been thinking about the money,” Mia mused aloud.
“Do you want to have sex on it?” Mikaela lifted her head, gazing about the bed. “Did you bring enough to have sex on?”
“We just had sex. A lot of sex,” Mia chuckled.
“I’m willing to get it up again to do it on the money.”
“’Get it up’?” Mia laughed. “God, you’re like a 14-year-old boy with a one-track mind.”
“Yes, ‘sex with Mia’. It’s like its own cable channel,” Mikaela gesticulated with her hands, painting an imaginary rectangular box in the air. “The Sex With Mia channel, 24/7, all sex with Mia, all the time. Ask me anytime of day what I‘m thinking about and chances are it‘s sex with you.”
“Can we get back to the topic?”
“I thought sex with you was the topic?”
“No,” Mia poked her playfully in the ribs. “I was talking about what to do with the money. And not just having sex on it.”
Mikaela rolled into Mia, turning the two until she was on top. “So you do want to have sex again?”
“I’m being serious.”
“So am I!” She stole a quick kiss and wagged her eyebrows lasciviously. “I take sex with you *very* seriously.”
“God, I’ve created a monster. No, seriously,” Mia quieted. “I want you to go to college.”
The playful smile disappeared and Mia felt the younger woman stiffen. “What?”
“I want to use the money for you to go to college.”
“Why?”
“Because I want you to want more. Because you deserve more from life than settling.”
“You think I’m settling for you?”
“No, that’s not what I meant. I just..,” Mia sighed, sliding her hands up Mikaela’s back. “I know what it’s like to be forced to sit on the sidelines and watch life pass you by. I don’t want that for you. I want you to have dreams and I want you to reach for them.”
“But,” Mikaela paused, her brows furrowing as she gazed down at Mia. “Doesn’t this leave you still sitting on the sidelines?”
Mia pursed her lips. She hadn’t really thought that far. She’d only thought so far as to using the money to make Mikaela’s life better. But, that’s what she always did. That’s what she was *supposed* to do - give and not expect anything in return.
“I’ll make a deal with you,” Mikaela spoke, breaking Mia from her thoughts. “I’ll go to college. But.. only if you do too.”
“What? Seriously?”
“Yep,” Mikaela nodded. “I’ll do it, but I’m not doing it alone.” She leaned down and nuzzled her nose against Mia’s cheek. “We can dream together and we can reach together. I don‘t want to do anything without you.”
“Are we still talking about college or sex?”
“I told you,” Mikaela kissed her, sliding her thigh a little deeper between Mia’s legs. “27/7, all day, every day.”
**
“Hey Toretto!” His name was Crash, a Tony Hawke wannabe with none of Tony Hawke’s skills on a skateboard.
“Yeah?” Mia yelled back, keeping her concentration focused on the frying pan before her.
“Is Dom back?”
“No,” she shook her head with a soft smile. People were always asking if Dom was back. “Why?”
“’Cuz you got about a billion Feds parked in front of your house.”
Mia pulled the frying pan off the aisle and ran. The restaurant was only a block from her house. Had she been paying attention, she would have seen the black sedans parked on her street, in her driveway. Guys dressed in black standing in her yard.
Had Dom actually come home? There was no other answer other than he’d gotten into trouble some where else and the Feds had come to her home, again, looking for answers. They hadn’t come to the restaurant looking for Mia.
She cut through a neighbor’s yard, running around back and hopping the fence into her own backyard. There were no Feds there. Cautiously and quietly, Mia entered through the back door. There were voices, two, a woman Mia didn’t recognize and Mikaela. She edged her way through the kitchen, ears straining as she eavesdropped.
“The answer’s still no,” she heard Mikaela say.
“Dammit, Mikaela!” The woman spoke. Someone Mia didn’t know. She sounded foreign. Australian, maybe? “Quit being so stubborn. They asked for you!”
“They? Or Sam?”
Mia peeked her head around the corner. Mikaela was in the center of the room, facing the window to the front yard. The woman stood close but distant. She didn’t dress like a Fed, with her jeans, blue camisole and leather jacket. She looked, well, gorgeous.
“You think that’s what this is about? Sam?” The woman stepped closer. “We all got the memo about your break-up. No, seriously. There was a memo. I’m not here because of Sam, Mikaela. They asked for you. They need you.” She stepped closer, intimately close, and placed a hand on Mikaela’s shoulder. “I need you.”
Mia had heard enough. She stepped out of the kitchen and into the living room. “What’s going on?”
Mikaela whipped around, looking all the world like someone had shot her puppy. The other woman glared, more shocked at the intrusion than angry. “Who the Hell are you?”
“I’m the woman who’s house you’re standing in. Who the Hell are you?”
“Maggie Madsen,” Mikaela explained. She looked as if she were to step towards Mia then thought better of it. “She works for the Department of Defense.”
Mia looked her up and down. “Seriously?”
“Yes,” Maggie huffed, rolling her eyes. “Why does no one ever believe me?”
“Probably because you look like that.”
“One can be attractive and intelligent.”
“In my experience,” Mia added, “those who are don’t work for the D.O.D.”
Maggie placed her hands on her head. This conversation wasn’t going anywhere it was supposed to. “Can we get back to the topic at hand.”
Mikaela finally dared to take that step towards Mia. “You know my answer. It’s still no.”
The wheels in Mia’s head started to turn, started to put the pieces together. The D.O.D. was here for Mikaela, not arresting her, asking for her assistance. Her head turned towards the younger woman, eyes widening in amazement. “You really did save the world.”
Mia smiled sheepishly. “Twice.”
“Third time’s the charm?” Maggie piped in.
Mikaela huffed. “You don’t need me.”
“We do! You don’t know what it’s like there. It’s all old guys in suits who’re still acting like the Cold War’s going on. They still don’t trust the Autobots and the Autobots can’t trust them.”
Mia placed her hand on Mikaela’s shoulder. “Why don’t you want to go?”
“Because of you,” Maggie answered.
“What?”
“If I leave, I might not ever come back.” She gazed at Mia, uncertainty in her big, blue eyes as the tears welled in them. “Fifty years from now, I don’t wanna look back and say I made the wrong choice.”
“That’s if,” Maggie interjected, “there *is* a fifty years from now.”
“All I want is you,” Mia shrugged.
“Mikaela,” Mia placed her fingertips under Mikaela’s chin. “Fifty years from now, I don’t wanna say you chose me over the world. It’s incredibly flattering and I don’t think I could love you more. I just can’t let you make that choice.”
**
Mikaela leaned back in her seat, sniffling and wiping her nose with her sleeve. Her other hand adjusted the duffel bag sitting on the seat between her and Maggie. There’d been no words between Mikaela and Mia as Mikaela packed, just tears and soft touches. When they embraced, Mikaela held onto Mia like she never wanted to let go.
Then she did.
The engine turned at Maggie’s instruction, the gears sliding into place and the car began moving forward.
Maggie placed her hand atop Mikaela’s, squeezing gently. “She really loves you.”
“I really love her,” Mikaela sniffled again, scrunching her face to keep the tears from flowing again.
“If she loves you, she’ll wait.”
“No.” Mikaela twisted in her seat until she faced the rear window. Faced a Mia standing in her front yard, arms folded over her chest, getting smaller and smaller as Mikaela drove away. “If she loves me, she won’t.”
**
17 MONTHS LATER
Mia placed her hands on her hips, arching her back, hearing the bones pop and crack as she stretched. Everything hurt - her back, her legs, her arms, even her hair seemed to hurt. She smelled like garlic and grease. A long, hot bath was definitely in her immediate future.
She packed the rest of her knives away as the remaining kitchen staff buzzed around her. A convention in town, a holiday weekend, the restaurant had been packed the moment it opened. Mia couldn’t even remember taking a break during the ten hours she’d been there.
“Hey Toretto!” one of the waiters called to her.
“Yeah?”
“There’s some jarhead at the door asking for you. I told her we’re closed but she won’t go away. Keeps talking about something called ‘orgasm sauce’.”
“Oh my God!” Mia was out the kitchen and running into the dining area.
Mikaela stood in the waiting area. She was wearing BDU’s; the green ones with the updated and ‘modern’ pixel pattern the military chose because they thought it would appeal to the ‘video game generation’. Her hair was pulled back and twisted into a bun. Her cap held in her hands, nervously worried by her fingers.
Mia skidded to a stop in the entrance. “Hi,” she managed.
“Hi,” Mikaela’s face lit up, big, broad smile and eyes twinkling, like someone had turned on a light within her.
“You know her?” the waiter huffed like a man who’d just realized no matter how many times he stepped to the plate he was always going to strike out.
“Yeah,” Mia answered, never taking her eyes off Mikaela.
Mikaela stepped forward, extending a hand to the waiter. “Mikaela Banes, Specialist Banes.”
He clasped his hand in hers, shaking it quickly then immediately releasing it. “You closing up?”
“Yeah,” Mia suddenly remembered there was someone else in the room. “I’ll close up.”
He just kinda disappeared because neither woman was really paying attention to him. A good, familiar tension rising in the air as the two women stared at each other.
“Wow,” Mia finally spoke. “Look at you.”
“Yeah,” Mikaela outstretched her arms. “My Dad’s over the moon. I never really saw myself as an Army type..”
Something snapped within Mia, like she’d been holding her breath for the past year and a half. She rushed towards Mikaela, throwing her arms around the younger woman. Her stomach fluttered as Mikaela returned the embrace and the two stood there for a long quiet moment holding each other.
“C’mon,” Mia gently pushed them apart, clasping her hand around Mikaela’s and pulling her deeper into the restaurant. “Let’s sit down.”
“Nice place,” Mikaela took the seat across from Mia. “You work here now?”
“I’m the new sous chef,” Mia beamed shyly, tucking a lock of hair behind an ear. “After you left, I got accepted into culinary school.”
“Really? That’s great!”
“Yeah, didn’t even have to use.. the money,” her voice lowered for a moment. “Apparently, my mole is like orgasm sauce.”
“I told you!” Mikaela shifted animatedly in her seat. “I went by your house earlier,” she paused, brows furrowing. “You sold it?”
Mia inhaled solemnly. She’s sold the house and the diner. Her mind had already been set by the time Dom had returned and saw the ‘for sale’ sign on the lawn. There were arguments that bordered on fights. In the end, Mia explained, it wasn’t a house to her - it was a graveyard, and Mia was tired of living with ghosts. “I needed a fresh start,” was all she could manage to say.
“I’m sorry,” Mikaela set the hat she was holding onto the table then used the same hand to run nervously over her head. “I meant to call.. Or write. Something.”
“It’s okay. I kinda knew what the stakes were when you left. I don’t hate or blame you.”
Mikaela exhaled, shoulders sagging like a giant weight had been lifted. She smiled sheepishly, lowering her head and gazing up at Mia playfully. “Any girlfriends.. Boyfriends?”
“There was someone,” she watched as Mikaela’s shoulders fell. “For awhile. It didn’t last very long. Too many unresolved issues with the ex.” Just like that, Mikaela perked up. “What about you?”
The soldier snorted. “One-night stands and pity fucks. The only long-term relationship I have is with my vibrator and I think it wants to break up,” she chuckled. “Too many unresolved issues with the ex.”
Mia smiled, slid her hand across the table, threading her fingers with Mikaela’s. “This ex must be pretty special.”
“Yeah,” Mikaela smiled back. “The kinda girl you save the world for.”
“Damn, you saved the world for her? I hope she can adequately say thank you.”
**
There would be time to show Mikaela Mia’s new home in Venice Beach. Right now, all Mia cared about was getting Mikaela out of her clothes. Connected at the lips, they pushed/pulled, staggered deeper into the house, stumbled into Mia’s bedroom.
Mia turned the two around, pushing Mikaela and she flopped backwards onto the bed. Mia pulled off her boots, yanked at the camouflaged pants and tossed them into the darkness. She had a new life now. A new life that didn’t revolve around cars or cops or ghosts. Now, this new life included Mikaela. Letting Mikaela go had been hard, harder than ever before because no one had ever asked Mia before. No one had ever let her make that decision. They’d always just left.
She clambered onto the bed, crawling over Mikaela’s body like a panther towards its prey. Hurriedly kissed her stomach, her breasts, collarbone and neck, finally claiming soft, full lips. Lips she’d longed to kiss for so long, too long. She whimpered into Mikaela’s mouth, at the hands gliding down her back, cupping her ass, sliding between her legs.
Hurried and hungry, almost desperate, like if they even paused for a moment it wouldn’t be real. Mia slipped her thigh between Mikaela’s legs, felt the rush of breath into her mouth as she pressed hard muscle under smooth skin against Mikaela’s wet heat. Mikaela lifted her leg and Mia moaned as she pressed down.
Her hands pushed towards her head, Mia thread her fingers into Mikaela’s as they found their rhythm, fast and frenzied and headboard slamming against the wall rough.
“Mia..” Mikaela keened as she came, bucking and trembling under Mia. Mia panted into the crook of Mikaela’s neck, not quite there yet but close. So close. Mikaela freed a hand, slipped it between them. Mia angled her hips, two fingers inside her. Just a little deeper. There. There. There.
They were slower the next round, more kissing, touching, caressing. Mia noticed the scar on Mikaela’s stomach as she kissed her way down. It started at the bottom of her left breast, angled across her stomach. Nothing more than a scar, Mia still tried to kiss the pain away. Until fingers were threading in her hair, gently but insistently pushing Mia where Mikaela wanted her to be.
And Mikaela returned the favor with the eagerness and enthusiasm Mia loved so much about her. Mikaela pleasured her with an expertise that had never been there before. Did a few things even Mia had never thought of.
In the morning, Mia awoke first and watched as Mikaela slept soundly and contentedly. She noted the other scars on Mikaela’s body, lips pursing as she thought of the stories behind and whether Mikaela would ever tell them. She watched her fingers drift lower, underneath the sheet covering Mikaela’s stomach. Gently ran her fingers through coarse and still damp curls, lower still, softly stroking, feeling Mikaela’s growing warmth and wetness.
Mikaela groaned, eyes fluttering lazily open.
“Good morning,” Mia purred.
“Good,” Mikaela grunted, hips arching, “fucking morning.”
“Better than a vibrator?”
“Definitely better than a vibrator.”
Mia leaned down, sucking Mikaela’s nipple into her mouth. She pulled back until it released from her mouth with a wet pop. “What do you want for breakfast?”
“I already know what you’re having!” Mikaela laughed, shifting her legs as Mia descended. She grunted from the sudden shockwave reverberating up her body. Certainly wasn’t expecting *that*. “Fuck! If this is your idea of breakfast, do I even want to know what you’re having for lunch?”
**
Mikaela stayed in bed, preferring to watch Mia, fresh from the shower, get dressed for work.
Mia pulled back her hair, wrapping it into a ponytail. “Don’t you have to go back to work or something?”
“Nope. I’m on furlough,” Mikaela rolled onto her back, tucking her hands behind her head. “For an entire month.”
“Furlough? Wow, you really are in the military,” Mia sat on the edge of the mattress and began pulling on her shoes. “So, I have you for an entire month?”
“You can have me for the rest of your life, if you want.”
“Mikaela..”
“Marry me,” she blurted.
“What?”
“Oh wow,” Mikaela rose onto her elbows. “That was like the worst proposal ever. I was hoping for something a bit more romantic, like a candlelit dinner or something.”
Mia half-smiled and placed her hand atop Mikaela’s. “I don’t think you’re ready for marriage.”
“Don‘t. Don‘t tell me what I am or am not ready for. Isn‘t that what everyone was always doing to you? Telling you what you could or couldn‘t do?”
Mia looked down at the hand covering her own.
“Tell me you don’t want this,” Mikaela whispered, voice almost cracking. “Tell me you don’t love me.”
“Mikaela..”
Mikaela rose, sliding her legs off the edge and scooting next to Mia. “I know what I want. I want you, Mia. You. I wanna go to sleep with you next to me and wake up in your arms. I wanna serve you breakfast in bed.” She leaned closer, pressing her forehead against Mia’s. “All that stupid shit other couples do because they allowed themselves to dream. A house. A dog. Fuck it, a white picket fence. I don’t care, just as long as it’s with you.”
“Who knew?” Mia chuckled softly, brushing her fingers over Mikaela‘s lips. “Mikaela Banes is a hopeless romantic.”
Her lips spread into a soft smile. “Did I mention the babies? I wanna make lots and lots of babies.”
“I don’t think we’re properly equipped.”
“Pfft, you know me, I’m all about the doing it part,” she wagged her eyebrows. “Besides, with the way we do, I wouldn’t be surprised if one of us got pregnant.” She brushed her lips across Mia’s ear, whispering softly. “Say you’ll marry me.”
Mia closed her eyes, exhaling softly, a weight of ‘what if’s’ lifting off her shoulders. Nothing in her life had ever been easy. But that was when everything in her life had been chosen for her. Back when she was supposed to be nothing more than ‘just the girl’.
Mia opened her eyes.
“Yes.”
**
FIVE YEARS LATER
The perfect California day turned to the perfect California night; crystal clear skies, a full moon making its gentle descent into the Pacific, the light twinkling off the cresting waves crashing against the shore. Mia watched through the windows of her and Mikaela’s bedroom in the two-story home. She inhaled deeply, tasting the salty air, gently swaying in the antique rocking chair originally owned by her grandmother.
The tiny bundle in her arms stirred. Mia looked down, cooing quietly as she caressed her daughter’s cheek with a thumb. She still couldn’t quite believe it.
It had been Mikaela’s idea but Mia had always assumed she’d been the one carrying their first child. Assumed, that is, until Mikaela suggested Dom be the donor. Mia had been mortified and kinda grossed out by Mikaela’s ‘I only want a Toretto inside me’ reasoning’s. Like a blade over a whet stone, Mikaela ground Mia towards acceptance and Mia realized Mikaela wanting Dom as the father meant ‘donor’ and not ‘I want to sleep with your brother’.
Dom never got to see his baby girl. Three months before her birth, Dom’s past caught up with him. A past even Mikaela’s connections with the D.O.D. couldn’t shield him from. Too many enemies with an ax to grind. On a cold day in September, Dominic Toretto was shot dead across the border in Mexico.
Mia thought she’d never get over the pain. Then, Dominique Annabelle (after Mikaela’s mother) Banes-Toretto was born; tiny and pink and absolutely perfect, with Dom’s ears, Mia’s smile and Mikaela’s eyes. The best of all their world’s in one tiny, perfect little package.
Dom wasn’t gone, not completely. He was here in her arms and she could only imagine how much of the father was in daughter, how much of *her* was in her child. Mia leaned down and kissed the newborn on the forehead.
“Just when I think you can’t get any sexier..” Mia looked up to see Mikaela on her side watching the two of them. “I wake up to this.”
“Sorry,” Mia whispered. “Did I wake you?”
“No,” Mikaela rolled up to a seated position. “Actually, yes. I reached out and you weren’t there.” She rose to her feet in her over-sized t-shirt with ‘Army‘ stenciled in bold letters across the front, quietly joining Mia at the window. “Thinking about Dom?”
Mia chuckled, marveling at how someone who’d known her for a little over five years knew her so well. How a frivolous one-night stand turned into the best thing that had ever happened to her. “It’s like every time I hold her I can feel him here with me.”
“He is,” Mikaela gently pulled Dominique from Mia’s arms and cradled her. “Isn’t he, baby girl?”
Under the sound of wind and surf, they could hear heavy footsteps on sand, along with gears and pistons. Mikaela stepped towards the window, Mia rising from the rocking chair and joining her.
Standing on the beach, silhouetted by the setting moon stood Arcee, an Autobot. A robot, when not standing on the beach below their home, that usually took the form of Mikaela’s motorcycle.
A month after they were married, Mikaela told Mia about the Transformers, alien robots now here on earth and their war with the Decepticons. Two years later, the rest of the world followed and Mikaela, Chief Mechanic (she hated the word Engineer) to the Autobots, and her chef wife Mia found themselves in the position of pseudo-celebrities. The fame brought customers to Mia’s new restaurant Toretto’s and multiple offers for cooking shows. There were movie deals and books offers. The couple declined them all. All they ever really wanted was each other, a family, a home.
Mia draped her arm over Mikaela’s shoulder, kissing her gently on the cheek as the two watched the moon set into the Pacific. Mia had never really dreamed before. Not until she’d met Mikaela. Now, she had a wife many called a hero instead of a criminal, a business of her own, a home and now a child. Not bad for two women raised in a world that expected nothing more of them than to be..
Just the girl.
END
A/N #2: Holy.. 8079 words!?! I can't remember the last time I wrote anything with 8k!! I know the ending got kinda info-dumpy but I wanted the story to be less about the adventures the two were having when they were apart and more about the changes they brought forth in each other. I thought about making Mia more of a bandido like her brother but, ultimately, felt for this story Mia would choose a life a bit more stable. Besides, the great thing about fan fic is I can always write a Mia/Mikaela on the run in Mexico later!
x-posted to passion_perfect, girlslash