Every single man among the higher-ups at Rossum Corporation hated Caroline Farrell. Maybe that was why Adelle couldn't.

Of course, it wasn't just that they hated her. They hated a lot of people whom Adelle hated too—all kinds of tricky customers and embezzlers and government investigators breathing down their necks. But they hated Caroline with a particular kind of fervor that honestly just spoke to Adelle on a level that very few things did.

"A fucking college girl," Clive Ambrose said one night over drinks, visibly disgusted. "I can't believe it. Someone has to be backing her. Some rival…"

"We hire many employees straight out of college," Adelle pointed out. Topher Brink, for example, had been recruited for a low ranking position at an early age before being promoted to head programmer of the LA branch. And they had all sorts of talented scientific interns and young security workers. (Not to mention the actives recruited right out of college—a different matter entirely.) "I believe the other night you cheered young talent at the dinner to celebrate our anniversary. And college certainly does breed zealots."

"Oh, come off it, Adelle. You know what I mean. I don't mean that she's a college student, I mean she's a college girl. Basically a sorority chick. We've done the research…she's a fucking bleeding heart for every cause she lays eyes on. Not to mention she's half motivated by the death of her boyfriend. Some crazy possessive…"

"Ah, I see," Adelle said brightly. "So you cannot believe we are being bested by this woman in her early twenties because she used to be interested in activism and is female?"

Clive made eyes at her. "You know what I mean. It's a type."

"Mhm."

Sometimes Adelle had to wonder if they hated Caroline because she was bombing their buildings or because she was a woman and she was smart. After all, she knew Clive Ambrose hated her too, because after years of unsubtle advances she still hadn't had sex with him. He just wasn't allowed to vocalize that particular hatred as loudly.

"Well, she's certainly an interesting figure," Adelle said. "You know we often recruit our enemies. There was that investigator last year…"

"I doubt she's smart enough to take on our kind of work," Clive said. "And a fanatic like that would never switch to our side. Basically thinks we're the devil." He cracked his knuckles. "Of course, the Dollhouse in New York has an opening."

Adelle smiled and nodded. The Dollhouse in New York was the one Clive tended to frequent—he found their standards and practices more accommodating than Adelle's. And that was the moment when Adelle decided Caroline Farrell was going to be taken down by LA instead. By Adelle herself.

Of course, easier said than done.

/…/…/

Adelle DeWitt was one of the most evil, hypocritical people Caroline Farrell had ever heard of or even imagined. Research on her turned up a thousand red flags—contacts with hundreds of people who disappeared soon afterwards or drastically changed their habits, connections with deaths and robberies and drug deals, more than enough to cement her as a major conspirator in Rossum's employ. Caroline hated everyone at Rossum.

And up until today she had hated Adelle DeWitt but now, having broken into the woman's private mansion (seriously, so shady) and gone through all her drawers and desks, she was finding it difficult.

Mostly because the woman had about eighty different photos of herself on the walls and dressers and everywhere, and for a woman who had to be over fifty she was fucking hot.

Caroline stared at the picture on the bedside table. "That's just unnecessary," she said sternly. "Really. You did not need that there. What, did you think you were going to forget what your own face looked like?"

Usually people kept pictures of loved ones in these places. Maybe DeWitt didn't have any loved ones. That was actually kind of sad. No. DeWitt was evil, so not sad. Caroline absolutely did not feel bad for her and was not even slightly attracted.

"Unnecessary," Caroline said. Shaking her finger at the photo, she said, "You know what? You don't even need this photo."

She had brought a knapsack with her, into which she had stuffed everything that seemed like it might be useful. A private computer (probably not used for work, but who knew?), a couple notebooks, some file folders. Not much was there—DeWitt didn't take much of her work home with her—but enough to be useful, as Caroline had expected.

Now she put the photo in the knapsack too. And with a surge of supreme frustration she took all the rest of the photos and crammed them in too. The woman needed to get some new house decorations that would be less distracting for prospective burglars.

Of course, it was unlikely that she would get the message since Caroline was planning on blowing her house up on the way out.

Then on the other hand, Caroline thought, maybe she didn't actually need to blow the house up. That was getting a bit passé, and while it would send a message, it wouldn't actually accomplish anything. DeWitt was rolling in money, and the house was bare enough that it probably had little sentimental value. She would buy herself a new house and move on.

On the other hand, if Caroline took all the pictures of her and maybe left a threatening note on the bed, that would be intimidating without going into overkill. More intimidating in some ways, since DeWitt probably wouldn't be motivated enough to move out of the house and therefore would have to live there knowing it was compromised. Much better.

The note she left said, "Dear Adelle DeWitt, Your house security and decorations leave much to be desired. But I guess I should thank you for hosting me for a few hours anyways. So thanks. You may notice I took a few mementos to remind myself of you. I hope we meet in person soon. There are a number of things I'd like to say to you. Love, Caroline Farrell."

/…/…/

"You should probably move out of that house," Dominic told Adelle. "It's compromised."

Adelle smiled. "So she might show up again."

"Which would be bad, ma'am. If you've forgotten, she's a dangerous terrorist."

"She hasn't killed anyone directly yet. Her bombings have only caused injuries."

"This letter is a clear threat," Dominic said. "If she catches you…"

"It's far more likely, if we meet as she suggests, that I will catch her," Adelle said. "Do you doubt me, Dominic?"

"No, ma'am."

"Good. I won't be changing houses." It would take far too much effort to move. Of course, she would have to touch up the décor a bit in case Caroline showed up again. She hadn't decorated the rooms herself, barely remembered what used to be there, though she thought she remembered a couple of those empty spaces being pictures. Ah, well. The few pictures remaining of her parents and her friend Margaret were still there, so they probably hadn't been anything very important.

What was more interesting was that she'd had her first run in with Caroline Farrell. It was only a pity they had yet to meet face to face…and that the incident hadn't left her with any usable clues to track her down.

/…/…/

Caroline didn't think about DeWitt for two months.

Sort of. Didn't think about her in a professional sense, anyways. She'd gotten what information she could from the DeWitt angle, and none of helped her figure out the location of the LA Dollhouse, which she knew based on reliable intel was the one DeWitt worked.

But she still had one of the photos. It was one of DeWitt when she was younger, maybe thirty, when her smile was still somewhat real. Already very dignified but still real and honest. Based on Caroline's research she would already have been working for Rossum at that age, already elbow deep in their dirty laundry. It made no sense.

"Tell me about Adelle DeWitt," she said one day to a man she was interrogating. Just your average Rossum pig. She'd taken him from one of his engagements, right off the streets. Could have gotten the doll too, and back in the day she probably would have gone for it, but knew she wouldn't be able to keep the doll safe, and it wasn't her priority. Information was the priority. She was going to take Rossum down wholesale, not just bit by bit, doll by doll.

The individual doll? Didn't matter, in the long run. Well, of course they mattered, but Caroline couldn't focus on the small picture right now, couldn't think about them. Bigger fish to fry. Bigger objectives.

And no, she had not lost sight of her morality. She had just chosen to play the long game.

"DeWitt?" the man said. He seemed honestly bewildered. Though to be fair, he might just have been terrified. Being tied to a chair in an abandoned warehouse did that to the majority of people. He'd whined for a long time before she'd convinced him to say anything of use.

"Adelle. DeWitt. Don't try to say she's not connected to you people, because I already know. Tell me about her."

"LA," he said. "She works in LA, I don't know what they do there…"

She'd taken him in New York. Fair enough.

"But you've heard about her. What do they say she's like? Ruthless, I imagine. Manipulative." She had formed a picture in her mind already about what kind of woman Adelle would have to be in order to advance that far in Rossum. Criminal in so many ways, debased in so many ways, but in other ways probably stiffly dignified and honorable. Her pictures showed that dignity, but she'd need it in any case. A large criminal organization dedicated to human marketing was hardly a feminist enterprise. DeWitt had either risen by fighting off all comers or dropping to her knees, and for the latter Rossum had dolls enough.

"They say she's possessive," the man said. "Trying to transfer a doll out of her house is practically impossible. Interfering in her house…no one even tries. She can be terrifying." He had begun to warm to the gossip, able to accuse someone who was not himself, turn Caroline's ire away. "They say she's killed men. I only ever met her once, at a function. Her eyes are like ice."

"Ice, huh?" The eyes in the photos always seemed warm.

"Terrifying," the man repeated. "Why do you want to know about her? Because she's interested in you?"

Caroline blinked. "She's interested in me?"

"She talks about you sometimes. More than many other outside threats. She asks Clive Ambrose about progress in the investigation a lot. I can't tell you much more than that…we're in different houses, like I said."

Hm. Perhaps it was not all that surprising. She'd left the threatening note after all, and gone through DeWitt's house. But still, Caroline did feel somewhat surprised that she warranted more than the occasional mention from a woman so high up the chain.

"I guess Rossum really does feel threatened by me after all," she mused. "Does she sound afraid when she talks about me? Or angry?" Frightening Adelle DeWitt would be a rush. But picturing the woman from the photographs angry was a rush too—being able to affect a woman like that either way, take up her focus, set her heart beating faster. It was…an interesting thought.

She put a cap on that thought. In the past, the only people she'd enjoyed seeing riled up were hot guys and girls where half the fun of fighting them was the sexual tension. She couldn't allow herself to feel that way about a bad woman like Adelle, who was not just arrogant or fun to mess with but actually involved in something so evil.

The man had said something. She had missed it. She told him to repeat.

"She seems amused."

"Amused?" Caroline quirked an eyebrow.

"She thinks you're interesting."

Interesting. Just interesting? Just amusing, after all she'd done? Caroline gritted her teeth.

In that case, she'd give Adelle a show.

/…/…/

Adelle got the call that her house was burning about five minutes into a meeting with a prospective customer. She told Mr. Dominic to take over—he knew the spiel. And she got all the details she could.

Caroline's work. All signs pointed to it. But why would she attack Adelle now? There had been no contact between them. Something had to have triggered her, but Adelle had no idea what. It was just a good thing Adelle had never cared all that much for the house in the first place. She spent most of her time at work.

She hated the fact that it only made her more eager to meet Caroline, in a way. To find out what set her off, what made her feel this hatred towards Adelle when they had never met.

But it was months before they did meet and Adelle could ask her.

/…/…/

When they caught Caroline Farrell and they went through her knapsack of supplies she'd been carrying with her, they found a picture of Adelle in it, a small one in one of the outer pockets. Its edges were worn, but Adelle recognized it from her house. She just didn't know why Caroline would have been carrying it with her.

Of course, Caroline had clearly known Adelle when she saw her. The sight of her had been infuriating, causing Caroline to struggle against the men holding her even harder than before. Her face had twisted in disgust until she was nearly unrecognizable as the girl from all her college photographs and videos.

Adelle had felt a sense of cool satisfaction at the capture and at Caroline's reaction to her, but they had hardly had a chance to talk. Now, later, with a pot of tea between them as well as hours of persuasion and discussion of Rossum's morality, she felt enlightened as to what kind of person Caroline was, but not what she thought of Adelle.

Adelle poured her another cup of tea.

Caroline picked it up and sipped it. Then she put it down and laughed hoarsely.

"I'm glad you find your situation amusing," Adelle said with a thin smile. Caroline's mood swung from outraged to mocking from moment to moment. But she never seemed to take it seriously, or show Adelle any sort of respect.

"Why shouldn't I? You found me amusing. It might as well go both ways."

Adelle frowned. How had Caroline known that? Besides, "I find you fascinating. There's a difference."

"You're sick," Caroline said. Her face twisted for a moment, and then she calmed. "I knew it would be you."

"What?"

"I knew if I got caught it would be you. We never met before, but I knew." Caroline leaned forward. "Sometimes you just have a feeling about things. I always felt I would see you sooner or later…and I knew it might be something like this. Didn't expect to be surrounded by so much feng shui, kind of expected more chains and torture, but close enough."

"Rossum is a humane…"

"Rossum is fucking evil and so are you," Caroline said. "You are disgusting."

"Me in particular. What do you know about me?"

"Enough."

"Why did you burn my house down?"

Caroline grinned. "Because you thought I was interesting. You liked watching me dance. I wasn't just some bug to be swatted away, I was a serious threat…"

"I always took you seriously. You're an intelligent young woman, and I knew you were very capable. If you're as intelligent as I think you are I know you'll take this bargain."

"You'll have to do better than that."

Yes, Caroline Farrell was a piece of work. And Adelle wouldn't have worked this hard at convincing just anyone, especially not someone who had attacked Rossum buildings more than once and attacked Adelle herself. But despite herself, for whatever reason, Adelle could not dislike her. So she'd have to continue trying to save Caroline Farrell from the jaws of Clive Ambrose, and save her from her own mistakes.

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AN: Reviews are always much appreciated!