Not for you (FIN)

>"Night." Michael said when we arrived at the house and got out of the car, starting to walk away. "Night." I said and started walking to my trailer.

"Where the hell are you going?" Dom asked, still standing by the car.

"Trailer. Sleeping." I said.

"There's a couch in there..." He said.

"Well, I prefer the bed in my trailer over any couch."

"Any chance you'd share that bed?" He grinned.

"Only if you put the dome that's still occupying the bed back on the roof to temporarily cover that damn hole up there. Will have to fix that tomorrow."

"That's a good deal. I'll just fetch something from the house, will be with you in a few minutes." He ran off.

I went to my trailer and started pushing the dome outside, then stripped the blood stained bed linens and replaced them. When I was finished, Dom was already leaning in the doorframe with a bag over his shoulder.

"What you got there?"

"Surprise. You go and take a shower." He grinned.

I shrugged and went into the bathroom.

I heard him on the roof, then again in the trailer and then no more because the running water was louder than anything I could hear from outside.

I wrapped myself into a towel and opened the door, just to find my eyes being covered by one of his hands.

"Dom...?" I said.

"Shhh. You come with me."

"Is that some sort of kidnapping again?" I asked.

"Not really. Door's not locked, so if you wanted to run, you could. However, I don't hope so."

"I'm tired." I said.

"Then I'll carry you." One hand still over my eyes, the other arm picked me up and laid me down on the bed. The hand of the arm that had carried me removed the towel from my body. Just good that it's dark in here, I thought. The dim light that was installed in the front and in the bathroom wouldn't make me feel too uncomfortable...

The hand was removed from my eyes.

Shit.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I said and pulled the blanket to my nose.

The trailer was lit with candles, he had used the old bed linens to cover the windows so no one could look in. And he was naked. Good grief...

"I want to look at you." He said.

"I don't like to be looked at."

"It's not exactly like I've never seen you before. I undressed you at Racewars, looked at you through the window, I saw you in that shower..." He tried to peel away the blanket.

"Well, the first time I was unconscious, next time I wasn't aware and last time I was drunk. Now I'm awake and sober and this is in fact a condition when I don't like to be looked at if it's so bright."

"Tell me why."

"Because I'm looking like a goddamn tire!"

He chuckled. "Hmmm, let me see. You're not exactly black, you're not made of rubber, you don't have any writings on you and you're not that round - hmmm - how the hell did you get the idea of looking like a tire? I can't see that."

"Because I have a tread pattern carved into my skin, Dom, everywhere, just not on my back. See, I'm a tire."

He snorted a bit, it sounded sad. "I can barely see that pattern, Dana, let alone feel it. If you're a tire, then you're definitely a slick."

"Well, I can feel it." I snapped.

"So you don't like to be touched in your face. You also don't like to be looked at. I think we should do something about this. Look at me."

I looked at his face, and noticed that he slowly brought both of his hands before my eyes; fingers spread, turning them slowly so that I could look multiple times at their in- and outsides.

"My hands. See?"

I nodded.

"Nothing hidden there, see?"

I still nodded, not really knowing what he was up to; but my instinct told me that hands near my face couldn't mean anything too good.

"Take them." He said. It wasn't an offer, it was an order.

I shook my head.

"You're afraid of being touched by others, not of touching. Take them. Put your palms on their backs."

My eyes never leaving his, I did as I was told. His hands now worked as broader extensions of my own.

"I'll do something now. You can always change the direction of my hands, my hands are your hands now. I just don't want you to be startled when I do this..." he said, slowly moving his and my hands towards my face. I started shaking.

"It's alright," he said, his eyes still never leaving mine.

I closed my eyes when my face was cupped between his hands. He held perfectly still, but it seemed as if the scars on my cheeks would start burning again under his touch.

"Open your eyes. Look at me."

I did.

"See, that's ridiculous. You jump on someone else's back who holds an iron bar in his hand without thinking, and if someone tries touching your face, you run screaming. You want to let them win?" He said, his hands still cupping my face, his eyes never leaving mine.

"What?"

"I know you have a problem with this. Knew it the night you told the story, heard it this evening in the car when I saw your face as you talked about your 'battle scars'. I want to put an end that. Guy there told you that he'd spoil you from ever being touched again. You let him win?"

It dawned me that I had never actually seen it that way, and realized that he was right. I stared at Dom blankly, my face still cradled by his hands in my own. He looked at me, and when he cocked his head ever so slightly and gave a small smile, it seemed that if something inside me that had been locked up for many years finally broke free.

"Gods, Dom!" I whispered, let go of his hands and wrapped my arms around his neck, crying. I held up to him as if he was saving me from drowning. I felt his hands, placed on the small of my back, holding still; but strange enough, I suddenly didn't feel as if I had to run screaming into the night for the feel of them on my face.

I have no idea how long I held on to him. It could have been minutes, it could been an hour. Or more. Or less. Who cared. He didn't move; just held me in his arms.

Finally he said something.

"You're strangulating me."

"Am not."

"Y'are."

"You can still speak, so I'm not."

"Ah," he said, placing his hands at my sides and pushing me away from him, "so this is how you honor the last words of a dying man: Ignoring them."

"You don't look so dying to me." I elbowed him.

He tried to touch my face again, I evaded.

"Sorry." I said. "I got your point, but it will probably take a long time before you can do that without me flinching away."

"Got nothing but time." He smiled. "We can practice, though."

"Oh, practice is good." I laughed. "Speaking of it; I personally don't think that we had too much practice last night. You had promised me a slower round, remember?"

"How would I forget that?" He grinned, finally taking his chance to practically tear the blanket away, throwing it far away into the kitchen space.

"You're sort of spoiling this, you know?" I groaned and tried not to look at him.

"Well it was you who said that practice is good. Now I'm forcing you to practice being looked at."

"Hmmm." I scratched my head. "I sort of had some other kind of practice in mind."

"Like what?" He grinned; his hand sliding down my body.

"Already told you: Slower round. Can't bend my knee, otherwise I would show you what a slower round is by being on top." I grinned back.

"Ah." He shrugged. "Perhaps we should wait until that knee has healed."

"Uh - you're an evil man. That will take at least a week or longer..."

"You're impatient. I like that." He laughed. "I think I have an idea, though. Turn around."

"What do you want now, evil man?" I said but did what he said, instantly being spooned by him.

"Oh, I'm just continuing where we were interrupted by Vince last time." He grinned into my neck and kissed my shoulder.

"Aha." I chuckled, feeling something hard pressing to my back. "Say, you got an iron bar hidden there somewhere or are you just happy about spooning me?"

He snorted. "Both, actually."

"I'm a bit tired, you do the work?"

He did, and the only thing I could complain about was the loss of sleep.

I woke up by the fact that something was missing. I looked around, Dom was gone. The look to the clock told me that it was just after seven in the morning. Hmmm? I thought, still a bit sleepy.

Then I became aware of the voices outside.

"-can't do that!" I heard Dom say. "You're better off if you stay here. Don't follow him, then that guy has two people running in the same direction."

" I know that guy, he'll find me even here and then we'll have hell on earth and no one will get away from this house alive. He blew up my damn garage, Dom!" I heard Brian reply, and he was very upset.

"Don't think he'll find you that fast. We need to do something about this, Brian."

"Well, we'd probably have the FBI on our side."

I didn't try to look out of the window, the movement of the 'sheet curtain' would perhaps have resulted in them noticing me; and just listening was probably a better idea at the moment.

"Fuck the FBI, they'd put me in a cell as soon as they get hold of me!" Dom hissed.

"They wouldn't, believe me. See, I got this..."

Silence, just for a minute. Rustling of paper.

"You think they really mean that?" Dom said.

"Sure they do. Did the same for me, and I was all clear."

"You really think we should do this? Will be very dangerous, especially for you."

What the hell were they talking about?


"Well, it's not exactly safe for me the way it is. We need to get a deal on this."

"As long as we keep her and her friend out of this, I'm all for it. You did run a check on those two, right?"

Obviously they had started to move away from the trailer because their voices became more quiet.

"I didn't, the FBI did. They're both who they say they are. And before you want to keep them out of this, remember what they did yesterday at the diner. Good eyes, good reactions. Could come in handy. Plus, both are so unknown with our team that this could be an advantage."

"Thought about that already, but I don't want her anywhere near that guy. And we'll need someone else to get us in there. I think I know someone who could help us, but that one needs to have the idea that he came up with that plan, otherwise it wouldn't work. Think your FBI pals could..."

I couldn't hear them any more. Damn, shit! What the hell are those two planning, I thought. FBI? Clear records? Run a check? Nowhere near that guy? Someone else having the plan? My brain was spinning.

A few minutes later I heard steps coming towards the trailer and stared at the door.

"Morning." Dom grinned.

"Morning." I said, still staring at him.

"What are you looking at? I'm dressed."

"Dom..." I started and saw his eyes narrowing.

"How long have you been awake?" He asked, sitting down on the bed.

No sense in beating around the bush, I thought. "Long enough to know that the FBI has run checks on me and Michael." I replied.

"Oh." He said and took a deep breath.

"What's this all about, Dom? I don't understand..."

"You don't need to. Not yet. Trust me."

"Well, I trust you as much as you trusted me by running a check on me!" I said.

"Don't take that personal, just a safety measurement." He said and tried to touch my arm.

"Just a safety measurement." I said and pulled my arm back, not looking at him.

"Ah, come on. Don't..."

"No, Dom, you don't. I'm scared shitless. Tell me what's going on."

"I can't. Need more information."

"Dom..."

He took my hands. "You trust me?"

"Barely." I said, still not looking at him. "Well, a bit." I admitted when he squeezed my hands.

"Try. Please. Have faith. All will be fine, I promise. I need your trust to get through this." He said and wrapped his arms around me.