Not for you (FIN)

>Facts & Trivia:

The GTO in this and the following chapters is, of course, supposed to be the GTO that was used in xXx; just without the gadgets.




I closed my eyes again, dropped my head and mentally counted to ten while I was breathing out. I looked to the right, the car with his driver was still standing there. No hallucination.

I jumped out and screamed at him while walking to his car.

"What the hell are you doing here?" So close. I was so close to losing my mind.

"Racing, just like everyone else." He avoided to look at me.

"How did you get here?"

"Just like you I took a plane. My car took the ship. Would have loved to join you at Racewars, but I couldn't make it."

"Shit, Michael, you shouldn't have come here!"

"Just wanted to see if you're alright."

That was all it took. I practically exploded. "Fuck you, I don't need a babysitter."

"No, but perhaps your companion does. What's that funny color on the side of your face?"

"Still not my companion. And that color is none of your business."

"Uhm, you two race?" The guy at the starting line asked carefully.

I took a deep breath, and without saying anything or even looking at anyone I got back into my car.

The flag fell, we raced off. I didn't even care to get my car to full speed, after just twenty yards, I hit the brake hard, turned around and drove back to my trailer. I knew that this would disqualify me for all other races today, but I didn't care. In my mirror I could see that Michael, even if he drove a bit slower than he might have, finished the race alone.

What the fuck? How did he find out that I was here? It dawned me that I should tell Dom as soon as possible about this unexpected twist.

He wasn't in my trailer. Running over, I found that he wasn't in the other's camp, either - only Vince was sitting there, enjoying the sun in a deckchair.

"Vince!" I barked, trying to catch my breath from the running. "BIG problem."

"You're not racing?" He said, lifting his sunglasses.

"No, I've just been disqualified."

"Disqualified? Pray tell why?" He jumped up.

"Because I left the track just after the start."

"Why the hell did you..."

I heard a very familiar engine sound behind Brian's trailer. Wonderful! He had obviously already scanned the surroundings and knew where their camp was...

"That's why." I interrupted him, pointing into the direction of that sound.

Vince turned, took a step back. A door was slammed shut, and from the frown on Vince's face, I knew that he saw someone getting out of a matte, red Opel Kadett.

"Who the fuck is this?" Vince said.

"You have three guesses." I said angrily, storming past him towards Michael, hearing Vince following shortly after me. I grabbed Michael by the shoulders, pushing him back to his car. "Go home, Michael! I don't need you here!"

"You're Michael?" Vince asked, flabbergasted. "You have balls, man. Really have balls."

I turned around. "Don't do this, Vince. This is not your problem."

"I wonder how a friend wanting to look after the wellbeing of another friend could possibly be a problem? Walk with me, man?" Vince said to Michael, completely ignoring me.

"You don't really want to..:" I started, but Vince pointed the cane at me.

"YOU get back into your trailer. How unprofessional! You could have smoked him. Even if you had lost, you wouldn't be as embarrassing for our team as you are now by leaving the tracks!"

I stared at him, he stared at me, I looked to Michael, he just shrugged.

I turned on my heel and stormed back to my trailer.

Pacing the small space before my kitchen counter for almost half an hour, I started to think. I was angry. Angry about Michael, angry about Vince chiding me in front of him. But most angry I was about the fact that Vince was right. I was part of a team now; and I had cost that team the possibility for a team winning in this race.

Shit.

Perhaps I should just pack my things and leave this place.

Which, of course, would just be more embarrassing for the team - one leaving the race before the races were over without the team was unthinkable.

I sat down at my table, trying to clear my head from all thoughts. And the clock went so slow. How long since I had gotten back into my trailer? Half an hour. I stared at the clock until it had moved five minutes forward, which, to me, seemed like at least five hours.

I tried to sit down and read a magazine. No success. I turned the computer on to do some really unnecessary internet browsing - just to turn it off a few minutes later because I couldn't concentrate on the screen. I walked into the shower when I heard a knock on the door - and practically jumped to open it. Which, of course, was unnecessary; Vince had already entered.

"Before you say anything..." he threatened me with his cane, "...sit down, shut up and listen."

I was so shocked by his really stern expression that I actually did as I was told.

"Okay," said Vince, sitting down at the other side of the table, looking at me, "outside there's a man who is really, really caring for you. In fact, he cared so much for you that he actually sold most of his stuff to get himself and the car to the US, just to find you. He's worried out of his wits that something might happen to you here - something likely to what happened to you in Germany, before he could protect you.

Now - I know you. You don't want to hear that you might need protection from anything because you would have to allow people close to for that. I've seen that in Houston when those three were attacking you and you didn't bother for a minute to call for any of us. But please understand that this is not that guy's fault. The more you refuse him, the more he wants to be there for you, which, of course, is his problem - but I think it's a problem you both could talk over. I'll help you if you want me to. This is really a nice guy, he's just scared."

While I heard him, I was thinking of something else. "Vince..." I said.

"What?"

"Am I out of the team?"

"Bullshit. But there's something else you have to deal with, and you have to do that now. I don't want to imagine what would happen if Dom crosses this guy's way, as angry and confused as he is at the moment. He thinks Dom has beaten you and I don't think that I could totally eliminate that idea. So - he'd attack Dom, and Dom, not knowing what this is about, would probably tear him apart. I must avoid this. You must avoid this, Dana; and actually, I think you can."

"Get him in." I said, looking out of the window.

Vince called for him, and Michael was opening the door the moment Vince had started shouting his name, which told me that he had been waiting right beside the door. I jumped up and looked at him, he, in return, looked at me.

"Michael," I said, still looking at him.

"Dana," he said, also still looking at me. "You... look good."

"Oh gods, I heard that shit before. Now at least greet each other the way old friends should greet each other!" barked Vince and pushed me towards Michael.

We hugged, it was an awkward hug. He didn't know where to put his hands, neither did I. So I basically hugged him with my wrists, the hands held away from his body. "Sit." I said quiet and sat down myself.

We looked at each other for a long time. Vince just stared from one to the other, never saying a word.

"It's over." Michael finally said.

"Yes, it's over."

"I still like you too much so I couldn't give you up," he said, "but now, looking at you, I finally understand it."

"You don't have to give me up, Michael. We can still be friends. Don't you like me enough to me my friend? We went through so many things together, this just can't be the end. You need to posess me to like me, to not give me up? You know no one will ever posess me."

"I know... it's just..." Came the reluctant answer.

"I've just disqualified for the race." I said.

"That's not important now!" Said Vince.

"It is... for me. I've embarrassed my team, you were right, Vince."

"I think your friend here and I have already found a solution. Give me your registration papers, Michael, I'll take care of this."

Michael handed them over, Vince took them, got up and walked out, not without shouting at us. "Behave! If you don't... I'll beat you with my cane."

"If you don't have a car to beat me with..." Michael shouted after him, smiling.

"What the hell is he doing now?"

"Oh, he's registering me as one of your team." Michael said as if he was telling me the obvious fact that there was a steering wheel in his car. "You know, you're allowed to back out against one of your own team. No one gets disqualified, no one's embarrassed, all will be fine, we can race again against different people from different teams."

"He what? Dom's the team leader, he should know..."

"Vince said he'd talk to him, so I guess it would be fine."

"You know, I should tear your ears off. You shouldn't have come here in the first place!"

"I know." He whispered, his fingers playing with the tablecloth. "Sorry."

"Don't you 'sorry' me, I know you meant good."

We stared at each other for a long time, then he finally spoke.

"Vince said you're not together with Dom?"

"I'm not, I already told you on the phone." I said.

"But he's living in this trailer with you?"

"He sort of adopted it from the first day on, yes. He asks each evening, though, and he never tried to touch me." I conveniently 'forgot' the first day at Racewars.

"What the hell happened to your face?"

"Well, I - sort of - bit the wrong guy at the wrong moment. And if Dom hadn't been there, I guess I'd look worse now, Michael."

"And you don't, you know, want him? I thought he'd get laid the first day you'd meet him, remembering the look in your eyes every time you talked about him..."

"I thought about it once or twice..." I admitted.

"...so...?"

"I came up with the fact that it's still Toretto. He's nice, you know - just not for keep. And he still has other problems, I guess, which he's just about to sort out. Not that I wouldn't have my share of fun here, though."

"Hm. He and the others know about... well, you know? What happened..."

"They do. Vince told you?"

"He did. By the way, if Dom just changed a bit of how much Vince changed, then he must be a totally different man now."

"Well, I'd say he's just about to get back into shape. He uses his brain more now, though."

The trailer's door was slammed open, Dom jumped in.

"See? If you speak of the devil..." I said, grinning at Michael.

"What the fuck did you think you're doing?" Dom shouted, looking generously pissed at both of us.

"Uh, I just wanted to make sure that..." Michael rushed back in his seat, shocked about the volume.

"Not you, smartass. The little crazy bitch there for whom I haven't just lied to the racing organization, but also apologized for forgetting to enlist one of my team!" Dom growled.

My smile had disappeared. If his face hadn't been so serious, I would have laughed. "Sorry." I said instead, trying to look guilty.

"Shut up, you're due in two minutes for the next race. And even if it's your dead grandfather wanting to race you, if you fuck this one up, you're out of the team. And you, smartass... welcome to the team, see you off the tracks in five minutes. Want to race you, see what you got."

He Who Must Be Obeyed jumped out of the trailer again, slamming the door shut in a way that it reopened all by itself.

"Wow." Michael said. "Sort of see what you like about that guy."

"Fuck. Good lord. Shit." I stammered. We stared at each other.

"Want to know what happens if we don't do what he said?"

"Not really." I said, jumped up, grabbed my keys and ran to my car.

I drove the best time for the quarter mile in the entire race. People would later say I raced as if the devil was right behind me, but to me, it was only the mental image of Dom storming into the trailer, screaming at me.

"Team's growing?" Leon said when we all sat down for lunch in their camp.

"Team's already grown. This is Michael, I guess you all heard of him?" Vince said, grinning.

Brian dropped the fork with which he was operating the barbecue. "You're the Michael? As in: Dana's burned Michael?"

"Uhm, I don't know what she told you about me.. but expect only half of it to be true. At max"

"You did build her engine. It's unmistakable. I saw your car racing and I assume its engine is the same." Dom said.

"With some modifications, yes. She has a front wheel drive, mine is rear wheel drive."

"It's a masterpiece, you did very well." Dom added.

"Thanks." Michael was smiling.

"Ever found out which of your cars is better?" Leon asked.

"Never had the chance. Her engine originally was in my car, and my engine wasn't finished when she went away."

"Two of the same team should never race each other." I said.

"Dom and I did." Said Brian.

"Yeah, but at that point of time we didn't have a team, plus I was driving... a... different kind of car." I could see that it hurt Dom to say the last words.

"That was the black Dodge Charger, right?" Michael asked. "Read about that. Coolest stunt ever. Love muscle cars."

"Gotta love muscle cars, man. A few years ago in Mexico, when my run started, I bought a 1970s Chevrolet Chevelle. And in Japan I had the joy to drive a Plymouth Roadrunner for some time, a gift from a dear friend. Not as scary as the black charger, but a cool car. Could even drift very well; it's still in a garage in New York." Dom said.

"Cool! I'd love to take a '70 or '71 Pontiac GTO back to Germany. My absolutely favorite car." Michael said, grinning.

"Try to get the '70 model. It's better." Dom answered, glowing and very obviously being in his element.

"Funny, just a few days ago, any mentioning of the Charger would have let him blow up like a bomb. Now look at him." Vince whispered to me. I grinned and nodded.

"Share your funny secrets, Doc." Said Michael.

"We're just glad to have the Fearless Leader back, that's all." Vince said.

"See, Michael - I told you that you two would like each other, even before I got to know Dom in person." I grinned.

"You were, as often, right." Michael said, drinking from his Corona. "Fuck, just a few days ago I thought I wanted to kill this guy, and now..."

"That's the best base for a good friendship." Vince said. "When I had to change school in the third grade, there was this guy in my new class. Too small for his age, too much mouth for his own good. We both were sent home that day, both bleeding from the thorough beating we had given each other."

"I even still have a scar from that!" Dom said, holding up his arm, pointing at a small white line.

"Oh, and then there was this cop who was after my ex girlfriend. I've beaten him down several times, once with the shaft of a rifle." Vince continued.

"Of which I still have a scar at the back of my head." Said Brian.

"And the day I got my driving license, I took a parking space from another guy. I have this..." Leon pointed at a scar on his forehead.

"And I have this.." continued Vince, pointing at his good arm where another faint scar could be seen. "from the same event."

"Wow, wow, guys - do I need to beat each of you now?" I laughed.

"You kicked my shin on the first day, that was enough." Dom replied dryly.

"And what do I have to do?" Asked Michael.

"Oh, you left a scar on my heart for smoking my Supra. She doesn't take that lightly and I daresay she's a bit pissed now." Laughed Dom.

"You smoked his Supra with that dead Coke can of yours? Tell me more. I never managed" Said Brian.

"Maybe it's just because we two have the better engines? They come from one of the finest garages in Germany." I laughed.

"I'd say that finest garage has just moved to the US. As I already mentioned, welcome to the team!" Dom winked.

The newly reformed Team Toretto smoked the whole racing scene down that weekend; and Michael didn't even twitch when he saw me and Dom lying in bed the next morning when as he and the others stormed in to demand their breakfast, which then was sourced out to their camp as they wouldn't all fit to my table now that Michael was part of the team.

On the evening the races ended, we all sat together in the camp, talking and laughing together; and Michael - bless him! - had brought a big box of Feiglinge from Germany.

"Missed that stuff!" I sighed, emptying the tiny bottle in one shot. It was the first but definitely not the last bottle I emptied that evening and the rest of the reformed Team Toretto loved them as much as Michael and I did, so we all got a bit drunk and giggly.

I smiled to myself. I had found new friends, had even gotten my old friend back, had a wonderful time at the races - what else did I need?

When I stormed into the shower as we had all gotten back to the trailers, myself a bit later than the others, I felt myself reminded.