Status: Completed... For Now.


Perfect Skin.

“I could have.” Blair said finally, her eyes dry for the sheer fact that she couldn’t cry any longer. Blair, the shrewd redhead, crying - Dominic never thought he would see the day. Unfortunately, it took the death of a teammate to elicit tears from her bright eyes. Toretto’s large, callused thumbs wiped the remainder of her tears from her cheeks, fixing her running makeup as he did so.

“I need a cigarette,” She murmured, pulling her heels off and dumping them on the ground unceremoniously before leaning back on Toretto’s bed. She watched him pace as she made herself comfortable, pulling the covers up to her chin. After a few minutes, she threw the covers off and stood, proceeding to the bathroom.

Toretto sat on the edge of the bed, staring out the open window. He was watching to see if Kolya and Mikhail would be successful in retrieving the Nissan Kolya had left at the race.

“I wouldn’t expect them back so soon,” Blair emerged from the bathroom dripping wet, clad in a plush white robe that she had found hanging there.

“What did you just do, dunk your head in the shower?”

“Yes. I did. And I feel better for it.” She wrapped her hair in a towel, retrieving the remote before she sat back on Toretto’s bed - sans makeup, sans fancy clothes. Toretto turned to observe her, his brow wrinkling.

“Why shouldn’t I expect them back?” Blair picked up the bedside phone and asked for room service - Vodka and Marlboro‘s. She ordered a case of Corona as well for Toretto before she hung up and answered him.

“They’ll probably end up at a bar. They were Vladimir’s friends.” She massaged her temples again, and didn’t speak until the room service she had requested arrived. “Could you please -?”

“Yeah, I’ve got it.” Toretto answered the door and accepted the flimsy-looking cart from the sturdy-looking woman who rolled it toward him. He handed her a small bill before she departed. “How much would you like?” He regarded the bottle of Absolut and the two glasses with concern - hard liquor was not his cup of tea. Blair motioned to him to roll the cart closer to the bed, so he did, watching as she poured half a glass of the clear liquid, drained it, and then filled it again before setting it down on her bedside. Toretto took a Corona out of the case, and dropped a lime from the uniform bunch cut up on the plate as Blair began to smack the pack of Marlboro’s against the palm of her hand. She noticed the glare Toretto was giving her before he knew he was glaring at her.

“I could be a prostitute on the streets going Heroin with the money I get from having sex with random men, so don’t you dare say a word about my cigarettes.” She opened the pack and placed on in her mouth, reaching for the ashtray after she lit the cancer stick.

“I wasn’t going to.”

“Yeah right.” Blair breathed out a stream of smoke as she spoke, and then took a sip of her vodka directly afterward. “I need to feel numb tonight anyway.” She sighed, sniffled a bit, and took a long drag.

“I understand.” Toretto had suddenly become quiet, introspective.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, watching Toretto flip through the HBO channels with abandon, passing about sixteen good movies. Blair sat up, balancing her cigarette on the edge of the ashtray, watching Toretto down the dregs of his Corona.


“Don’t tell me it’s nothing, you don’t choke down a Corona that fast when it’s nothing.” Toretto sighed, leaning back on the plush white sheets of the bed, his head between Blair’s manicured toes, his eyes closed.

“There’s a good bit about my life that I haven’t told you yet.” He grunted.

“It’s mutual darling.” Blair crossed her legs so se was sitting Indian-style, the covers over her lap and her hands on her face, elbows on her knees to support her head.

“Well. Letty and I had dated for quite a while - five and a half years. She was a ride-or-die chick, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” Blair smiled lightly, Mia had told her a little about Letty, but refused to tell her the actual story of her death.

“And what happened to this perfect woman?” She asked, looking at Toretto’s closed eyes.

“She was killed by a drug lord. After surviving a horrific car accident.” He sighed, rubbing his paws over his face. Blair greedily sucked on her cigarette, saying nothing - there was nothing she could say, she hadn’t ever experienced something to that caliber of loss. After a moment, she spoke.

“I’m so sorry,” She breathed, leaning back against the headboard while reflecting on Vladimir’s death.

“There was nothing I could do,” Toretto sighed, sitting up. “I avenged her - of course.” Blair lifted an eyebrow, so Toretto elaborated. “I killed the fucker.” Blair’s eyes widened momentarily, and leaned her head back toward the ceiling.

“Well then. Did that make you feel better about it?”

“Yes, it did.” He looked at her, his chocolate eyes rimmed with tears.

“Ah, knock it off you,” Blair wiped at the bottoms of his eyes with her slight thumbs, causing Toretto to smile wearily. “How long has it been?” She rested her hand on his black buzzed hair, rubbing the top of his head as she would a dog. Toretto rubbed his head into her hand, enjoying her long nails.

“Almost six months.” Blair stopped scratching.

“No,” She breathed, gulping on her cigarette.

“Why, is that a problem?” Toretto asked, watching as she downed the rest of her vodka. As usual, she filibustered his question.

“May I sleep with you tonight?” She asked, then scrunched her face up as small as it would get as Toretto burst out laughing. “I mean sleep in here.”

“Yes you can,” Toretto said through laughter. Blair finished her cigarette and crushed it out into the ashtray, scowling.

“I’m tired, then. Would you like to go to bed now?” She perched with the bottle of vodka in her hand, waiting for Toretto to give his verdict.

“Yes.” He stood and crossed the room, turning out the light. Blair immediately made a dive for the remote, flipping back to HBO for one of the movies Toretto had passed earlier.

“I thought you said you were going to bed?” He asked, sitting on the edge of his side of the bed.

“I watch a little bit of the boob tube before I go to bed.” Toretto laughed as he stripped off his shirt - a movement Blair watched with interest out of her peripheral vision. He moved to take of his pants…

“What’re you doing?” She stopped him; her glass raised halfway to her lips.

“I’m… getting ready to go to sleep?” Toretto regarded her with a questioning look on his face, one eyebrow raised and his hands still at the button of his pants.

“I… don’t think I’ve had enough alcohol. Hold that thought.” Blair downed the new glass she had just poured. “Alright. Continue on.” Toretto stripped off his pants - Blair was pleased (surprised?) to find that he was disinclined to wearing underwear. She set the remote on the bedside table, drank a few mouthfuls more of alcohol, and stripped off her robe, lying down in the bed in a lacy matching set of bra and underwear next to a very naked Dominic Toretto.

Blair fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow again - Toretto was forced to reach for the remote to turn off the television two Coronas and half an hour later. His chest brushed Blair’s shoulder, and she immediately startled awake, sitting bolt upright and looking around.

“Blair! I’m sorry, calm down.” Toretto grumbled, settling back into his side of the bed.

“Ok…” She sounded as if she was already asleep; Blair lay back down, searching for a warm spot on the bed. Seconds later, she ended up in Toretto’s arms, snuggled happily up to his muscular chest. Toretto raised an eyebrow down at Blair’s sleeping face.

“Blair?” He whispered, nudging her shoulder gently.


“What’re you doing?”

“Being comfortable.” She murmured. Toretto’s fingers snaked around her chin, tipping her head up; their lips met gently, Blair’s eyelashes closed against his cheeks, sending shivers down his spine. He wrapped his tattooed arms around her tiny frame as she snuggled in closer for another kiss, their bodies meeting as if they were formed for one another. Toretto’s blunt fingers toyed with the clasp of Blair’s lacy bra for a moment before he managed to set the twins free as she wrapped her arms around his neck and a leg around his. Suddenly, Toretto pulled his head away from Blair’s.

“Blair! What are you doing,” He realized that he had one hand on her breast and one on her thigh. Her left hand was attempting to sift through his short hair without much success, her right clutching his shoulder blade.

“I hope that was a rhetorical question,” She asked, straining to meet his lips again. Toretto held her away long enough to ask;

“Are you on birth control?” He took Blair’s lips on his to be her answer - flipping her over on her back.

“Oh, Dominic,”
♠ ♠ ♠
Title: The 69 Eyes.

So a long long time ago when I was young and naive, I thought that writing sex scenes would be easier after I actually had sex. This is not so, as I have found, and explains the sheer vomit above.