Note: This takes place before the death of Brian O'Conner.

It was that time again. The time when a completely desolate industrial suburb south of L.A became flooded with fast cars, show cars, DJ's, and more than enough young men and women to go around. Cole would be taking it all in and simply enjoying as he usually did when he first arrived...except he was too busy trying to beat this guy's Porsche 911.

It was a rather furious race for just 5 grand. Granted that was a lot of money, but compared to what Cole was used to it was pocket change. Besides, it wasn't like he raced for money anymore anyway, he raced for the love of the sport, and that irreplaceable feeling of winning.

Cole's bright red Nissan R35 GT-R spat a flame out the exhaust as Cole drove hard into the braking zone for the final corner. Side by side with that Porsche that he slightly underestimated. Getting every inch he could, the blonde dived to the apex of the corner, using a bunch of trail brake to help the car turn, and just grazed the inside edge of the corner, which gave him the advantage coming to the finish line. The result was a satisfying victory by about a car length over the Porsche.

After a brief celebration and even a rare handshake with the driver of the 911, Cole collected his winnings and rolled over to his spot among the crowd of cars. Taking a look at the time, he figured it was probably time to start watching for Regan to show up.

The prospect of racing alongside other flat racers that were a little bit more skilled than she was somewhat intimidating. It didn't matter that she had been drifting since she had first sat behind a wheel, it didn't matter how many miles she put on her cars or how fast she could go. These people knew the streets much better than she did, knew just what lie ahead of the turn or how that second turn was a little more sharp than it seemed. Seasoned racers and seasoned drifters were a little different, even if it was the same idea behind their styles. Double shifting, pulling the brake on the turn to lock the wheel for a good drift, and dropping back down into second instead of first or third to get your speed back up. Some liked to drop into first, others into third, but for Re's cars, she used second.

She had paced at home after her shower for a few minutes out of pure nerves, debating even showing up but she realized she did need the reputation. Plus an extra bit of cash wouldn't hurt anyone. Ripped, bootcut jeans, her work boots, and a vest that left the center of her chest open for anyone to see and covered down to just below her belly button. It was warm out, surprisingly so, and she had worn the same style outfit to every race she'd been to. IT might have been a little trashy to some but there were other skunks out there that wore way less than she did. Plus, she was actually in a car with some serious engine heat rolling off of it since she didn't turn the ac on and the injection cooling didn't always work at top speed.

The directions Cole had given her had been pretty precise and even as she rolled up the crowd was pretty large. Yet, as she revved the engine people moved out of her way and stared some. A newcomer with a nice car? That was unheard of. Re spotted Cole, giving a light smirk as she pulled up beside him and stepped out. "Well. Ya weren't kiddin'," she shook her head as she walked over, hands pushing into her pockets while she allowed people to look at the car as they wished. "Shit ton o' people here." Her eyes wandered over the various drivers and cars around them, shaking her head. It was quite like a drift meet but there were more cars, larger cars in some respects since drift cars were usually small and compact so they didn't flip. Sighing, she turned to look up at Cole, raising an eyebrow slightly.

A dominating smell of burnt tires and brake pads surrounded the GT-R Cole stood next to, as was always the tell-tale sign a car had just come off the track. He sported a proud winner's grin in his otherwise typical dark jeans with a black button-down shirt that was never, ever tucked in.

Soon enough, he saw that familiar 370z pull through the crowd and cause a bit of a stir along the way. She actually showed up, not that he didn't expect her to, but he knew all too well how flaky everyone is especially when it came to racing. "This is where the big scene is." He nodded. "A lot of people either don't have the skills to be a good drifter or don't wanna go through 3 sets of tires a night, so they come here." He waved his hand over the growing crowd. "Don't feel out of place though, even many of these guys don't really know proper racing techniques." He shook his head to reinforce his words. The thing with a lot of street racers is that they tended to be balls to wall drivers who thought that if they just drove hard enough, they would win. In reality, it was the drivers who finessed the car and took on the notion that 'smooth is fast' who were the dominate drivers. Cole was one of few who understood this because of his background in the professional leagues.

"Have you ever even done this before?" Cole turned to her with a bit of a playful smirk, noticing that she appeared just a little nervous.

Re's eyes looked around them as she stood there, arms crossed over her chest. The petite woman was a force to be reckoned with and at least people seemed to realize that as they passed her by, eyeing her car all the more warily. It made her smirk some, knowing that her car was a nice site to others and not just her own. "Well, I don't mind goin' through tires," she shook her head and rubbed her arm slowly. Feeling out place was at the top of her list though. It wasn't all that often a drifter stepped into the world of street racing since they were different worlds.

"I'm a drifter, not a street racer," her eyebrow lifted as she looked at him and shook her head. "I don't feel right here, I'm a newcomer on top of that." Regan took a deep breath and ignored his last question, pushing her hands into her back pockets. Someone was standing at the back of her car, seeming to expect it a little bit more than she was used to but she figured he was an admirer of pretty cars. "Well, I've got about 30 to drop here if I need to. My drift races always have an entrance of 20 grand or more so…" she took a deep breath, finally turning to look up at him.

"Ahh we were all a newcomer at one point. Besides, it's an advantage if you can be known as the newcomer who whooped up on everyone's ass." And that wasn't as uncommon as some would think. He'd seen a fair share of people come and go, some were winning right off the bat. In Cole's mind, racing was as much of a mental game as anything else. If you were tough mentally, you'd be tough on the track.

A little surprised at how much cash she had to blow, he was about to make a comment when that same guy eyeing the back of her Nissan finally spoke up...

"Hey girl, how 'bout we find out if this thing runs as good as it looks, eh?" The rather burly guy said with a mischievous grin. He was then joined by who Cole presumed to be his girlfriend who had an equally challenging demeanor.

Before Regan could even answer, Cole saw this as an opportunity. Seemingly arrogant couples like these were his favorite kinds of prey. "You have a car?" The blonde motioned to the girl at the dude's side. She hastily answered with a "You better believe it, boy."

Checkmate

"Let's make this interesting then. A tag team race. You two rabbits against us two." Cole pointed between Regan and himself. "Each driver gets two laps, first team to finish takes it."

The big guy wasn't quite as tough as he was now that Cole had introduced some interesting terms. But he was in this too deep now, he couldn't back out.

OOC: Do you know what I mean by tag team race? They're fun

"Let's hope that's what comes of it," she laughed a bit while stretching her hips side to side. She was still watching the guy when he spoke up and Regan eyed his girlfriend, enjoying their attitudes as she matched it with a bit of cockiness. Of course, that was all a facade considering Re wasn't all the cocky, but it might give him some unnecessary confidence that would ruin his race. Run as good as it looks? Hell that car ran better than most European 500 cars. But Cole spoke up and she looked up at him, quirking her head at his sudden…boldness.

Looking to the guy, she smirked as his false confidence dropped and Re stepped to stand in front of Cole. "Well, this ought to be interesting," she held the keys up between them. "Who first?" her shaped eyebrow was still arched as she watched the kid in front of her who just challenged a race for them both. "Let's make this even more interestin'," she called, turning to the guy. "Winner takes 10 grand…a piece. So total pot is 20 kay." Re glanced at Cole with a little smirk on her face, deciding that since he was going to be tossing challenges to people, she might as well sweeten the pot. Of course, if he didn't have it and they lost, she would gladly cover him for it.

Losing wasn't an option. Not this time.

OOC:: Yeah I do! It's such a good idea lol

Obviously these two "rivals" weren't really prepared for what just hit them, as they starting a quiet but nervous banter between themselves about who would go first. The guy even looked to Cole and asked "Is that your GT-R? Cole simply shrugged as if to say maybe or maybe not. He was pretty sure he saw the guy mutter an 'oh fuck.'

They got even more antsy as Regan called out the pot. Cole pulled the stacks out of his car and hung them high. "You guys doing this thing or not? We ain't got all night!" He further pressed, basically forcing them to accept as a crowd was now gathering around the cars. "Fine, line 'em up." The guy huffed and marched off with his girl to their cars.

"You wanna start us off?" Cole now looked to Regan as the other two were out of earshot. Fully confident that they didn't pose much of a threat...Although that's what he thought of that Porsche he just ran a minute ago.

It was rather sadistic, but Regan enjoyed watching people squirm under pressure. The mental agony they must be going through as the guy realized he was doomed from the start. She laughed when Cole was asked about his GT-R, going into her Z to grab the two stacks of cash to match the ones Cole was holding up high. "I've got a nice steak to eat, so hurry," she shook her head, thankful for the 'line 'em up' that followed. She held out the cash to the starter, looking up at Cole with a wink. "Hell yes."

Re slid into the drivers seat, turning the key and smiling as the Z hummed into life. With a few taps to the gas pedal, her car steadied in a powerful hum as the supercharged engine warmed back up again. Tires turned until she reached the 'start' line, glancing over at the car beside her with a smirk. An Evo, how cute. Although, some Evo's were pretty damned good, there were some whose owners didn't modify correctly. The girl in the drivers seat seemed a little terrified since her boy toy had decided to play hero. If it were Regan, she would have wanted to attempt to get a good lead and let the girlfriend fuck it up after that, but he wanted to have a come from behind win. Egotistical brat.

Turning back to the start girl, Regan pressed the gas a little while still in neutral while the girl raised the so-called flag. Re bit her lip as the adrenaline started to buzz in her fingers in the anticipation of the coming speed. As soon as the girls arm lowered, Regan was off. The tires bit into the asphalt with ease and left a tiny bit of smoke behind her as the bright blue 370 took off in the first leg. A small bit of blue flame escaped her exhaust with each gear change, hand and feet moving with ease as she headed for the first turn. No need to swing out for a wide cut in when driving the little Nissan, Re grabbed the e-brake as she made the drifting turn barely losing any speed as she came out the other side. A glance in the mirror brought a smirk to her face as she watched the little Evo swerve excessively out of the turn and she couldn't help the laugh. This girl was pretty awful, but Re wasn't going to give up.

"Remember, being smooth is everything in racing." He patted her on the shoulder before turning to his own car. "Let's serve these guys."

Cole followed Regan through the crowd and to the staging area. A pretty large group of spectators were in tow with the cars. The 370z met an Evo at the start line. An Evo...he'd been meaning to build another Evo someday, he adored those cars.

His confidence in Regan's ability was reassured as he watched the two girls take off into the first corner. The Mitsubishi was all over the place, where the Nissan held a tidy line that gave it a hefty advantage right from the start. "Too easy," Cole thought to himself.

He positioned the GT-R off to the side of the start line, waiting for Regan to complete her two laps. Within a moment, burly guy showed up...predictably in an STI. "Damn bro, I'm not feelin' this for you right now." Cole smirked as the two girls disappeared further into the course with Regan solidly ahead. The guy just grunted and punched the gas pedal in the STI, bouncing it off the rev limiter a dozen times before letting off and returning the smirk to Cole. Cole just shook his head and returned the favor, except his straight-piped twin-turbo V6 made a much louder presence than the Subi's boxer engine. "Like I said." Cole shrugged with a grin as he looked back in the STI's direction. The guy simply rolled up his window.

The sound of rung out engines pierced the air once more, signifying the car's would be coming around to complete their first lap any second.

Regan held onto that steady lead as best she could, eventually making it longer and longer. The Nissan gripped the turns with ease as Regan carefully steered the little sports car through the set course. It was the straightaway that was certainly giving her the lead after the final turn, her little car pushing the speed near 100 without needing NOS. That would just be overkill at this point and she might as well save the tanks for later. She crossed the line, giving her wheel a jerk so she spun a 180 into a stop, pulling up to where Cole had been waiting before and stepping out.

Glancing over at the waiting STI, she smirked before laughing. "Typical douchebag car," she snapped, looking up at the Mistu as it crawled over the finish line with what sounded like a possible blown manifold. Re looked at it before turning back to the race at hand and walking around to sit on her hood as she waited to collect the 10 grand. It was kind of silly, this race, but hell she was enjoying knocking someone down a few pegs.

In what seemed like a few seconds, Regan's car zipped across the line with the Evo barely in sight. With a smile and a salute to the STI driver, Cole launched the GT-R off the line and caught 2nd gear immediately and 3rd gear almost as quick. Damn this thing was a rocket off the line, not that he would really be needing that however, Regan did all his work for him.

Cole simply needed to be smooth and consistent, only at brief times could he even actually see the STI's headlights in his mirror. This thing was over when it started. Still, out of habit, the young gun made the most of each corner and didn't let himself slip into bad habits. Smooth in, fast out, brush each of the corner apex's, and hit all the shifts. Though the GT-R's paddle shift gear box took half the work out of it...Cole would still rather have a clutch pedal though.

Lap 1 was over, and equally soon lap 2 was over as the R35 crossed the line with the STI hardly even in earshot. It was an even worse bloodbath than Cole thought'd it be. These two shared one obvious thing with each other: They both sucked, maybe that's why they were together. He somewhat wished the race would've been for pinks, he wouldn't have minded taking that Evo home.

The red GT-R pulled even with Regan's Z as a cheering crowd engulfed the two cars. "See what I mean?" He laughed as he stepped out of the car. "Helluva job."

Watching the cocky asshole struggle immensely to even attempt to make up some distance at Cole's jump off the line was making Regan laugh. It was quite obvious that the guy had bought a car and not cared to do anything to it…or his driving skills. The blonde barbie was behind Regan somewhere sulking as she realized they had lost, but at least they got to keep their cars. Her eyes followed Cole and his car across the line, standing up to meet him at his door. It was a good crowd cheering them on and Re couldn't help the smile on her face.

"Yeah, I see now," she nodded while looking up at the presentation of the 40 grand. It was nice to be holding 20 k in your hands, knowing you had won it in a wipe out race that was more like a practice run for more to come. Nodding, Re looked around briefly as she turned to Cole with a cocky smirk. "Might just have to take you on, Peyton," she quipped. It would be an interesting battle to who wins, but that would be a race for another day in her mind. For right now, she had more cash to win and more asses to whoop. "But first, let's get ourselves some more cash."

Regan gave him a wink, sauntering to the back of her car and putting the cash away. Hips swayed slowly as she walked along, taking the pats and praises from the bystanders who had watched their race all the way through. Someone stopped to talk to her about the specs on her car, asking about the GRIP exhaust system in particular that gave her car such a nice sound. It was nice to talk specifics, it was hard to find someone who really knew the in depth details of a Z. Regan had taken this car completely apart and put it back together, learning every single inch of the car and through changes, she learned what worked best. There were modifications that had given other people only a 3-5 horsepower difference, but with Regan's knowledge of her car, she had made it a 10-12 horsepower difference on her own Z. Giving a glance at Cole, she smirked while still chatting about the cars.

Well, he already made a much bigger profit than he anticipated for the night, not that it was a problem though. Regardless of the money, winning just felt good. Cole was addicted to this feeling. It was like for that one moment, you were untouchable and on top of the world with everyone deferring to you. It was awesome, better than what any drug could do.

"Fair enough, hope you'll be ready." He said with a grin in response to her little poke. He stashed away his own winnings and made small talk with a few higschoolers who admired the GT-R. He had to laugh at Regan, it wasn't long ago at all that she appeared intimidated and out of the loop. Now she had half the lot crowding around her trying to see who this girl was that just demolished her competition. Drifters make the best racers, it was something Cole had said before and he'd keep saying it.

His small scale celebration was interrupted when he spotted a group of well dressed men making their way over from a group of tuned Mercedes C63 AMG's colored in none other than black (being 6'2 had its advantages). "Damnit." Cole muttered to himself seeing there was simply no exit among the barrage of people. He quickly made his way over to Regan to let her know that they had attracted a little too much attention. "Hey, we need to move." He tugged at her arm. It wasn't like it was life and death, but if there was one thing he learned from his mess with the mafia, it was that you didn't want to be involved. Period. No matter what these guys were meaning for, whether it was a race, job offer, whatever. He didn't want any part of it.

It was too late though, as a look back to the GT-R and 370Z revealed that the gentleman were already standing next to the cars.

"More like you better be ready," she laughed. Re was happily chatting away with some people who were interested in her car, not noticing the group of men in suits walking towards them. She didn't need to deal with the Men in Black today, especially since she was still riding off the high of winning. Cole's tug snapped her attention, catching site of the suits with a sigh. "Too late." The tiny Irishwoman looked them over in disdain as they blocked their only way out of the small track area.

Cole had warned her about these guys and given her ties to the Irish mob, she was in bigger shit than anyone else. Narrowing her eyes at the sight of a familiar face, Re stepped up and quirked her head. Without a word, she placed her hands on her hips and studied the men that were blocking her way out. "Excuse us, but I'd like to move my car out of the way to let others race." Her voice was firm, loud enough for everyone to hear and caused the crowd to quiet some. Regan wasn't afraid of them, even if she should be, but her eyes were set on the familiar face of one of the men. They had locked gazes already and neither were wavering from their stance. Taking a deep breath, she leaned towards Cole some without losing the gaze of the other. "We needa find a way outta here. And quick."

Cole knew these guys all too well, he'd raced against them several times when he worked for Stephano Dieseli's organization. He won the vast majority of those races, and he'd taken a lot of money from them in Dieseli's name. In other words, they surely weren't fond of him. He wasn't too fond of them either if he was honest.

"Ah, you and I both know I am not in your way for simply no reason, Ms. McElvy." One of the mobster's spoke with eyes locked on to her's. "Mr. Peyton, seems as if you've found quite a bit of trouble lately. I am shocked you are not dead yet. No one gets away with betrayal against the Dieseli family." The statement sent shivers down his spine, he knew it was true. That was the scary part. He could only pray that these guys were not about to act out in the name of Dieseli's mob. If so, he was done for.

Regan's whisper summed up everything that went through his mind...wait, how did she know these guys? She seemed equally concerned as he was. The question was, how did they get out? Seemed damned near impossible at this point.

Regan scoffed at the use of her name, head shaking and arms crossing over her chest. "Then why the hell are you in my way?" she tilted her head to the left some, a growl emitting from her throat. When he addressed Cole, she eyed the kid before stepping forward towards the mobster with hands raised to show she wasn't being all that aggressive. When she was told to stop she did, still glaring at the mob suit with a rather unhappy look on her face. This was bringing back far too many memories for her and it was a little worrisome.

"What do you want? I have had nothing to do with my dad as was requested, haven't even been to see him. The hell you want from us now?" Regan could be a bit brassy about things considering her father was in a position that he was. Even though he was in jail, he was still a head boss in the Irish mob since he hadn't done anything wrong to the mob itself. He had done wrong to his family and that was it, but with him in jail she was left to the rules of those on the outside. Regan slowly looked around, making it seem like she was just checking out the arsenal of weapons pointed their way but she was really trying to find the best escape route. It didn't take too long to find it, but she looked back to the suit with a sigh. "Seriously. Let us go, please?"

"You should be careful with the way you speak, Ms. McElvy." The mobster returned the glare. "Interesting you should choose to show your face around here. I would think a resentful daughter would rather not be around her father's business." The suit simply said thoughtfully before making his towards Cole, who literally had no idea what the right thing to do was.

"In actuality, our business here lays with you Mr. Peyton. I understand why Dieseli hired you. You're naive, immature, and your passion overrides your sensibility." The mobster began an ominous pace around Cole, to say he was uncomfortable was an understatement. "For those reasons, you were the perfect man for what Dieseli had in mind, and he almost accomplished it with your help. Let me tell you this Mr. Peyton. Dieseli is still alive, and what remains of his men are hungrier for revenge than ever. Consider that as a warning.

A shellshocked expression crossed Cole's face as he learned of Stephano. How was he alive and a free man? That was impossible...he didn't want to believe it. If it we're true, then he was royally screwed...and probably shouldn't be here right now.

The attitude of the mobster suddenly changed completely. "On another note, you two seem to be quite the driving duo. I would come to expect from Peyton, though it appears you are rather formidable yourself, Ms. McElvy. What would you say to a showdown? One hundred thousand a piece sound good?"

"Can we just go?" Cole grumbled. This was quickly turning into a longggg night.

Regan scoffed at him, shaking her head with a roll of her jaw. "Da's business isn't here anymore, and it never was in cars. So I'm here doing my business. And you take me out, you have five countries to deal with, and not just little sucker mob sectors," she kept her tone even without much emotion in it, stating what ws probably already known. She was right, though. If they tried to off her, or harm her, there would be five of the worlds most powerful mobs after them since she was a bit of a gem to them. More like ransom money, in a way, but she could still count on them for protection.

Her head slowly turned to look at cole as the truth of his involvement came out, eyes widening a bit. A growl escaped her and she shook her head, keeping her thoughts to herself until they were alone and away from other people. His idea of a show down wasn't exactly her idea of fun considering one of them was bound to get hurt. A hundred g's sounded wonderful, but she wasn't going to fall to it that easily. "And if I say no? What're you gonna do? Call me Da?" she shook her head, raising an eyebrow with a slight smirk on her lips. There ewas no way in hell they were going to force her to actually race against them, even with a gun to her head.

"Cause, word on the street here is, that if someone kicks your ass you get all poor sportsman about it. Now, that sounds relatively familiar considering I've heard that in eight or nine other cities where people have whooped your over-priced hot wheels. So, honestly, I'd rather not because I'd like to stay on relatively good terms with you guys, and keep my pride." Regan turned it around to seem like they were actually good racers dealt bad cards, hoping it was enough to woo them into letting them go.

When Cole was first introduced to the lives of mobsters, he didn't mind them at all. In fact, he accepted it as a different but interesting way of life. That was until he began to learn piece by piece just what these guys were about. They were some of the most cold-hearted, moral-less devils he'd ever had the displeasure of being around. Now he couldn't stand to just be in the presence of a gangster, whether he was affiliated with Dieseli's gang or not.

"Well I say, Ms. McElvy, you turn down a race everyone wants to see, I say you come out of here as the loser anyway. Am I right?" The mobster waved his hand over the surrounding crowd which sent reassuring cheers to him, quickly following the cheers with a steady chant of "Race! Race! Race! Race!"

The gang member was using almost the same tactics against them that Cole used against that big guy. "You see, we aren't going to lose. We have a new arsenal of European racing drivers that would make even Mr. Peyton look like a rookie. I'm afraid it is you who will be tasked with displaying proper sportsmanship." He said with a displeased tone at the accusations.

"I don't have a hundred thou to put up anyway, so forget it." Cole forced out even as he absorbed the blow. In any other instance that would've been more than enough to provoke a race out of him, but he just wanted out of this.

"Ah, we race for the cars then!" The mobster turned back to the crowd who's cheers grew louder and the chants of "Race!" grew stronger.

Cole turned back to Regan with a look of desperation. She apparently knew something about these guys he didn't, and he was out of ideas. She didn't look much too pleased with him at this moment though...great.

"You forget who trained me," she shook her head as she listened to him talk about his silly little European drivers and what not, figuring if they were here they were the rejects. Taking a deep breath, she gave Cole a look as the mention of racing for cars was made and she could just about hold her tongue. The idea of losing her car was not a pleasant one. All of the hard work, money, and time she put into that damned car and if she lost it, there would be hell to pay. Shaking her head slowly, Regan ran her hand over her jaw before deciding she had no choice, they were chanting after all.

"Fine. But if I win, I'd rather one car and the 100k. You have yourself a race," Regan turned, brushing past Cole to go to her 370. This is just what she didn't want, to race against the mob and lost her car or her life. Pulling the door open, Re climbed in and sat there for a minute or two absolutely fuming. She was pissed, to put it simply. Her hands were white knuckled not he steering wheel, eyes sharp as she stared ahead at the road in front of her. There was no way she was losing this race, no way she was losing her car. They'd have to pry her out of it and kill her before they took it. Guess it was time to show these assholes what a real street racer was, considering track racing and street racing were totally different. Turning the car on, Regan pulled up to the line with her eyes focused on the road ahead, not bothering to look at the other drivers.