Vince was looking at him really hard, “So when’d you stop being a patrolman?”
“About two hours ago.”
Vince blew out his breath hard and clenched his fists. Brian tightened his grip on the steering wheel and tried to make his face blank. Surely, Vince wouldn’t take a swing while they were barreling down the 405 south at 70 miles per?
“What are you saying, man? And just what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Vince’s voice had an edge that could slice through an artery but Brian could tell he was actually trying to keep his temper. Prison really does change you, I guess.
“I just…” Brian cleared his throat but it still came out kind of choked. “I just want a do-over.”
Canon-divergence post F&F, this is everything I could have wished for with a good dose of h/c.