Story: Distinctions

Rating: M

Author: Rogoblue

Summary: Internal bickering among dollhouses or something more sinister? You decide.

Spoilers: Minor ones up until Episode 1 x 09 "The Spy in the House of Love." Set after 1 x 06 and before 1 x 09.

Disclaimers: The toys are Joss Whedon's. The idea is mine.

Pairing: DeWitt/OC, DeWitt/Dominic

"Mr. Dominic? Ms. DeWitt is asking for you."

Laurence looked at his watch. 22 seconds. 22 freaking seconds I've been in the House. They can survive without me for ten days and not a minute more. He blinked at the young red headed woman. Is she a newer one of mine or has DeWitt put out an APB to the general staff?

"Ms. DeWitt asked that you join the team in her office upon your arrival, sir."

Dominic knew he looked like hell. Three day growth of beard, worn jeans, frayed white button down shirt, battered black leather jacket. He had been looking forward to a shower and the feel of nice clothes against his skin.

"Um … she did use the word 'immediately,' Mr. Dominic."

"Do I look like I'm ready to go anywhere immediately, Miss …?"

"Atwater, sir." An amused expression flitted across Atwater's face.

Dominic would've missed the look if he'd blinked. Being the source of amusement was not high on Dominic's list at the moment. Or any moment, really.

"You look like you've been somewhere … interesting."

"What?"

"Nothing, sir." Atwater's eyes were smiling even as she struggled not to follow through with her mouth. "As Ms. DeWitt knows you've just arrived from … wherever you've just arrived from, I'm sure she'll overlook you being out of uniform."

"A word of advice, Atwater," Dominic said. "Don't ever be sure of anything in reference to Adelle DeWitt." With a small sigh, Dominic squared his shoulders and made for DeWitt's office. When he glanced back over his shoulder, Atwater was watching him. Atwater, Michelle Jenks and some other woman he didn't recognize. Doesn't anyone have anything to do around here today?

* * *

"There you are, Mr. Dominic."

Adelle suppressed a smile at the muffled "Oh my" that reached her ears. Laurence Dominic looked superlative in a suit but casual clothes flattered him in a way that he didn't seem to understand.

"Unkempt isn't the usual style for security personnel."

Dominic regarded the man who'd spoken for a moment before asking, "And you are?"

"Your long lost cousin, Laurence," Topher Brink offered with a smirk.

Adelle had to admit the resemblance was there, albeit superficial for the most part. The two men were similarly built—Laurence perhaps slightly taller and leaner. Under other circumstances, their coloring would be virtually identical but Laurence was tan from his recent excursions. The eyes—the eyes were the closest—and both sets were hostile.

"Mr. Dominic, this is Mr. Evanston from corporate," Adelle said, bent on smoothing any ruffled male ego feathers. "He's here to help us run our house more efficiently."

"More … efficiently." Dominic stepped between Adelle and. Evanston and mouthed, "You have got to be kidding," in her direction.

Smiling, Adelle said, "I have assured Dennis that we are open to new ideas and embrace the spirit of cooperation."

Turning slowly, Dominic asked, "Have I missed the PowerPoint presentation?"

"I was underway, Laurence. I can review if you'd like."

Topher pretended to weep into his hands.

Dominic smiled. "No need to bore everyone else; I'll catch up."

"Bless you, Laurence," Topher stage whispered. "Bless you."

* * *

"Only if you agree, of course, Laurence."

Uh oh. Busted thinking about Spain. Evincing calm he didn't feel, Dominic shifted his gaze from the floor toward Dennis. Along the way, his eyes met those of Candace Detmer, one of his best people. She nodded her head once. Barely. Sure that no one else had noticed the motion, Dominic said, "Fine with me." He silently hoped he'd read Candace correctly because his response clearly surprised Topher and Dr. Saunders.

"Excellent. I'll start my process with the security group." Dennis beamed. "No time like the present, my sainted mother used to say."

Dominic crossed the office to Candace in a few long strides. "Thanks," he said. "What did I just agree to, exactly?"

"To allow Dennis the Menace to observe our operations, both internal and external." Voice picking up a slight sing-song quality, she continued, "To assign someone to him to help him do that unobtrusively and safely. And to incorporate any and all of his suggestions, however stupid and unworkable."

He stared at Candace in disbelief. "Last time I take your advice." When she laughed, he asked, "Is this payback for McCaffery? Is that what this is?"

"Dom," she said, pitching her voice lower so only he could hear. "We're going to have to go through this farce sometime. Dear Dennis—."

"I liked Dennis the Menace better."

She grinned and put her hands on his shoulders. "We have to do it eventually, Dennis doesn't like you and DeWitt was watching you space out. This way—we get it over with and make it look like we're playing nice."

"How do you figure he doesn't like me? Sure, I threw him some attitude—."

"It was clear before you got here, Dom." Candace shrugged and stepped slightly closer. "He's blaming you for everything that's gone down here lately. He won't settle for a knife. DTM is out to put a broadsword in your back."

"We have to assign someone to him?" Candace nodded and Dominic considered. "Give him Kennedy."

"Dom, you sure?"

"He's a human puppy. It's perfect. He'll drive DTM nuts!" A happy, genuine smile—the kind he rarely allowed himself—lit up his face.

"Kennedy is green. If it comes to protecting DTM …"

"I would be personally devastated if anything were to happen to Dennis. It would be tragic. I'd have to write a letter of apology." Dominic looked over his shoulder and saw Dennis and Adelle observing him. Resisting the urge to wave, Dominic turned back to Candace. "It'd be worth the slap on the wrist. Hell, corporate could slap both wrists for all I care."

"Are you fully caffeinated or something, Dom?" She tugged at the collar of his jacket. "You're really wired."

"Jet lag." Thoughts were flowing full throttle through Dominic's brain. He grabbed one at random. "You know an Atwater?"

"Stacy Atwater?"

"I don't know. About this tall. Red hair."

Candace stepped back and smirked at her boss. "Sure, she's in food service. Why?"

"She's the one who aimed me in this direction. She was acting … strange." He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. "There's not something in the water again, is there? We are still monitoring that, right?"

"Nothing in the water but water." Candace bit her lip before continuing, "You really have no idea how good you look right now, do you?"

"Huh? I look like crap."

"You look different than usual. Really different."

Dominic blinked and spared a moment for consideration of widely varying tastes. "Good different?" She nodded. What in the hell is that smell?

Candace stepped around Dominic smartly. "Are you ready to get started, Mr. Evanston?"

DTM needs to lighten up on the cologne. Seriously.

* * *

"How was Barcelona, Mr. Dominic?" Adelle DeWitt asked.

"Hot."

Unperturbed by his clipped tone, Adelle poured them both a glass of single malt Scotch. "Giselle is well, I trust?" Something flashed behind Dominic's eyes almost too quickly for Adelle to assess. Almost. "Is there some cause for concern?"

"Maybe."

"If I didn't know you better, Laurence, I would think you were being coy." Sitting behind her desk, something she rarely did when speaking to Dominic, she regarded him over the rim of her glass. "Since I do, I believe this is some mild form of punishment for Dennis Evanston. Trust me when I say that I did not request his assistance."

"Fine."

"About Giselle?" Adelle knew Dominic genuinely liked his counterpart in Spain, something that could not be said for many of the others. Is that the "problem," I wonder? That they've finally slept together.

"I'm not sure how to put this so it doesn't sound … borderline pathetic."

Adelle started. "Pathetic?"

"Borderline pathetic." Dominic almost smiled and slipped a hint of a British accent into his voice. "There is a distinction."

Raising her glass slightly in acknowledgement of his use of a phrase of which she was fond, Adelle smiled and waited.

Dominic sighed, squaring his shoulders in the light gray silk suit he'd managed to sneak a few moments to don. "This was supposed to be a working vacation. Go over a few procedures, exchange information, confer on any potential issues and then get the hell out of the House."

"The sooner the better," Adelle prompted.

"In theory."

"And in practice …?"

"The issues got in the way."

She didn't permit his obvious disappointment to deter her. "Explain."

"Giselle had noticed … irregularities with personnel in her House. People suddenly habitually late. Unusual volumes of text message traffic. Minor tampering with files. Nothing significant but everyone knows where the small stuff can lead." Dominic drained his Scotch and closed his eyes for a moment. "Upon further investigation, things got … a bit messier."

Curious as to why Dominic was choosing his words so carefully, Adelle said, "How so?"

"Each of the people Giselle targeted was in a relationship of fairly recent vintage." At Adelle's raised eyebrow, Dominic laughed. "Giselle's phrase. They'd just started seeing someone new. And each of the new love interests … Well, it'd be easier to show you." Dominic gestured to Adelle's computer. "May I?"

"By all means."

A few moments of surprisingly good typing later, Dominic pulled up a montage of six photographs—two rows of three each. "The ones on top are the new lovers. The ones below are registered actives—two from Prague and one from Buenos Aires."

Drawing a sharp quick breath, Adelle asked, "Are they the same people?"

"Computer thinks so."

"What do you think, Mr. Dominic?"

"I agree. So does Giselle."

Considering, Adelle moved over to her liquor cabinet and poured Dominic another drink. "This bears watching," she began. "The use of actives to corrupt employees from another House is either a loyalty test or …"

"Something else," Dominic muttered. "Something worse."

"Agreed," Adelle admitted. "But I fail to see anything pathetic here, borderline or otherwise."

"I haven't gotten to that part."

"Continue." His eyes were fixed on the drink in her hand. Taking the silent hint, Adelle delivered it.

"It's about Giselle herself."

When Dominic fell silent, Adelle said, "She also was in a … relationship of fairly recent vintage?"

"No. Not that recent. They've been together about six months."

Sensing there was more to this than bruised ego, Adelle prompted, "And …"

"They appear … happy. They like many of the same things." Dominic finally met Adelle's eyes. "They seem good together."

She sighed. "But …"

Dominic swiveled back to the computer. "This is Evandre." A photograph of a not quite drop dead handsome blonde man appeared. "This, allegedly, isn't." A second photo of a dark haired gentleman took its place next to the first. "He's an active out of Canada."

The similarities were not lost on Adelle. "The computer thinks …?"

"Might be the same. Eighty-five percent."

"And you?"

"It's the same guy. I feel it."

Adelle sat down in a chair next to Dominic's and reached for his arm. "And Giselle?"

"Thinks I'm full of shit, jealous, pissed off and seeing things that aren't there." Taking a large sip of Scotch, he added, "I didn't handle that conversation particularly well."

Squeezing a well developed bicep, Adelle said, "Instruct all higher level personnel here to be alert for situations of this nature. I don't want even minor difficulties here. We have enough on our plate."

"Agreed."

* * *

TWO WEEKS LATER

"I think I'm going to hurl," Topher said, gazing across the second level of the House.

"Not over the railing," Dr. Saunders instructed. "Go find your trash can."

"How can you watch that?" Topher demanded, gesturing sharply at Adelle Dewitt and Dennis Evanston. "I'd rather look into Alpha's eyes when he's holding a bloodied scalpel than watch her … sort of leer … at him. I can't believe I shared my inappropriate starches with her. I was definitely under the influence."

"It's nice that she's found someone," Dr. Saunders offered.

"Maybe he's an active from some other House screwing with us," Topher opined. "Like Laurence was up in arms about." Meeting Dr. Saunders' eyes, he said, "We should check, shouldn't we?"

A few minutes later they returned to the railing.

"Something wrong?" Laurence Dominic asked, halting on the way back to his office, noting their odd expressions.

"He's not an active from another House," Topher nearly moaned.

Dominic looked to Claire for help interpreting Topher-speak. She smiled and gently turned his head toward Adelle and Dennis. Dominic blinked and sighed. "Too bad," he muttered. "Good thought to check, though."

* * *

"Sierra's overdue. Is there any sign of a problem?"

Sipping his juice box, Topher shook his head. "Our breaking and entering goddess is a bit pumped, Laurence, but all pertinent parameters are green." He shrugged. "Maybe they got caught in traffic?"

Leaning a shoulder against the wall, Dominic said, "If they aren't here in ten minutes, I'm going to send—."

"Worried about me, sweetie?" Elena/Sierra asked, as she breezed into Topher's office, her new handler following meekly behind. "I like that. Makes me feel all nice and …" Elana/Sierra backed Dominic up against the wall. "Needed." Before anyone could register any reaction, much less speak, Elana/Sierra wrapped her arms around Dominic's neck, her legs around his waist and kissed him like she was starving and he was dinner.

Topher looked to Sierra's handler. He was staring, wide-eyed at his charge.

Working his tie loose, Elana/Sierra whispered against Dominic's lips, "I'm sorry, baby. I'm so stoked; I can't wait."

Dominic managed, "Toph—," before Elana/Sierra rendered further speech impossible.

Pushing Sierra's handler forward, Topher said, "The script, man friend. Remember the script!"

"Sierra," the handler began.

"Louder," Topher demanded. "But don't yell. We are in a no yelling zone."

"Sierra," he tried again. "Would you like your treatment?"

Elana/Sierra turned her upper body slightly toward her handler, nearly growling, "Not now, Max."

As she turned back, Dominic caught her chin in his hand. "We'll have the time to make this more interesting after your treatment," he whispered. Glancing down at the floor, he added, "And more private."

Unwrapping herself from around him, Elana/Sierra smiled knowingly. "My tough guy is shy. That's kind of sweet." With that, she strutted over to the chair and lowered herself into it. "I'd like oysters on the half shell and California Chardonnay when I'm done. Sonoma not Napa."

Grateful that the shy card proved a winner, Dominic watched Topher activate the chair.

"What the fuck was that?" Sierra's handler shouted, nearly taking up Sierra's previous position in Dominic's personal space, fortunately for all concerned keeping his feet on the ground.

"Your active out of control?" Dominic ventured.

"And all over you?" the handler hissed. "And why is that, I wonder?"

"How the fuck should I know."

"Men friends, men friends, a little calm please," Topher cautioned in his best soothing tone. "We don't want to upset Sierra, do we?"

Dominic and Max stood side by side and listened to Topher's waking up script. Sierra rose from the chair, smiling in general good cheer until her eyes latched on to Laurence Dominic. A hint of playfulness emerged as she glided across the room and straightened his tie. "Good day," she said before gracefully exiting the room.

"I'm reporting this to DeWitt," Max promised. "I'm definitely reporting this."

"Topher," Dominic began wearily. "I got Dennis Evanston's recommendations for security today. I don't need any more crap right now. What the hell is going on?"

Topher smirked, crossed his arms and regarded Dominic.

"I'm not going to ask nicely again."

Laughing, Topher turned back to his equipment. "You're all that and then some when she's superhero girl."

"Superhero girl?"

"Spy. Safecracker. SWAT team leader. Anything like that, she zings off you." Topher shrugged. "Don't take my word for it. Ask around. Just don't ask why. No one knows."

"That's bullshit, Topher. Sierra … I don't know …flirts, I guess, if you stretch the definition of the term, but she's never done anything remotely like this before."

"True."

"So …?"

Topher bounced around the chair with glee. Expression grim, Dominic stepped toward Topher, cutting him off from the door.

"I told you, Laurence. So did she. Sierra was stoked." Unable to suppress a broad grin, Topher rushed on, "And the imprint had sexual aggression built into it in case she needed to persuade someone to part with the data we wanted. Stoked girl returned. You were here, conveniently near to the wall. Motive plus opportunity, Laurence."

Something in Topher's words nagged at Laurence's mind. Motive and opportunity.

* * *

Boyd Langton looked from Topher to Dr. Saunders. "You think Ms. DeWitt is acting in a manner not—what was it you said—befitting her station?"

"She's over the top with this Dennis and I think we can all agree he's no prince," Topher said. "He's barely a frog. Maybe we should peek in on them from time to time. Not to … watch or anything. Just to … um … look."

Dr. Saunders maneuvered Topher slightly to one side. "This feels wrong, Boyd. Do you think we could convince Dominic to let us … well … look?"

Boyd smiled. "I wouldn't ask Dominic if I were you. Certainly not today. I'd intimidate Jennings."

"Will you?" Dr. Saunders asked.

"I will be honored to intimidate Jennings for you both."

* * *

"Is it true?"

Laurence Dominic glanced up from page 37 of Dennis the Menace's security report in relief. "Is what true, Candace?"

"That Sierra jumped you instead of into the chair."

Dominic closed his eyes. I knew it was only a matter of time but I was hoping for more of it. Accepting the inevitable, he said, "Yes."

"Dom, people are going to make Hearn-type assumptions."

The concern in her voice was nice to hear. "I know."

"But you aren't—. You didn't—Right?"

"No, I'm not and you're right, I didn't."

Candace sank down into a red and purple plush chair. "DeWitt is going to freak."

"You think?"

Leaning forward, thinking hard, Candace said, "You need to tell her before she reads the handler's report, Dom. You need to."

"I know that too."

She smiled. "And you're sitting here, why?"

"Marshalling my courage."

Standing, Candace advised, "Have a stiff drink and get yourself upstairs. Before you hear the sound of her heels coming down."

* * *

Topher, Boyd and Claire stared at the surveillance monitor in silence. Topher winced as Dennis Evanston slid a hand under Adelle DeWitt's skirt.

"Rewind that," Claire demanded.

Boyd complied without comment. "Why?" Topher groaned. "Do you really want to see that again?"

"What did she call him?" Claire asked. "Right when he bites her neck. Listen."

Topher buried his face in his hands, refusing to look. He raised his head slowly after the replay, expression puzzled.

"I'm not sure," Boyd said, rewinding the tape again.

The three looked at each other after the second replay. "Laurence?" Topher squeaked.

"I'm sure of it," Dr. Saunders whispered. "They look enough alike. You called them long lost cousins when Dennis first arrived, remember?"

Topher nodded slowly. Eyes wide, he asked, "We don't have to show Laurence this, do we? I'd be freaked if it was me seeing … cousin me … do that.

"We're off the hook," Dr. Saunders said. "Look."

Laurence Dominic was three steps into Adelle DeWitt's office, carrying several file folders. Eyes widening, he halted.

* *

Adelle DeWitt locked eyes with Laurence Dominic. How is this possible? He's already here.

Dominic held up some files. "Here's the information you wanted, Ms. DeWitt."

"She's not interested in information at the moment," Dennis said. "As would be obvious to anyone who isn't a moron."

Dominic coughed, waving at the air in front of his face with his free hand. "What the fuck did you do with your cologne today? Dump the bottle over your head?"

"Get out," Dennis ordered.

"Are you all right, ma'am?" Dominic asked, moving closer to the couple.

Adelle tried to nod but felt suddenly dizzy.

"Jesus," Dominic stepped to her side. "You're asphyxiating her with that shit."

Two Dominics. We could make a sandwich.

"Ms. DeWitt," Dominic said, placing his hands lightly on her shoulders and looking her in the eye. "Should I call Dr. Saunders?"

Ignoring the Dominic that had his hand up her skirt, Adelle grabbed the tie of the other and pulled him in for a kiss. Well, this one kisses better once he warms up to the task.

* * *

Ok. There is officially something in the water. I'm going to check it personally when I'm done with this. Laurence Dominic extricated himself from Adelle DeWitt as gently as possible. Looking into her tiny pupils, he muttered, "Are you high?"

She smiled and reached for his belt buckle.

Dodging her hand, Dominic drew his gun and took aim at Dennis Evanston. "What did you give her?" he demanded. "What kind of drug?"

"Nothing," Dennis said, finally unhanding DeWitt and stepping back from the desk. "She's fine. Or will be once she gets laid."

DeWitt pressed full length against Dominic's back and he felt her teeth gently nip his neck. Christ!

Dennis inched to the left. Dominic tracked the movement precisely. "You claim she's … um … herself?" Dominic asked.

"Yep."

"Ms. DeWitt?" Dominic said, pleased that his voice betrayed no reaction to the intricate patterns she was tracing with her tongue on his throat.

"Hmmmm?" she murmured into his ear.

"Would it be all right with you if I put Echo in the attic?"

There was no hesitation. "Whatever you think, Laurence."

Dominic shot Dennis in the right thigh. "What the fuck?" Dennis panted. "Are you insane? I'll have you in the attic over this."

"Not over this." When Boyd Langton and Candace Detmer arrived, Dominic slid an arm around Adelle DeWitt's waist, saying, "She needs some air." Holstering his gun, he added, "Oh, and if you have a minute, you might get Dr. Saunders for him. No rush. He's not going to bleed out."

* * *

"You wanted to see me, ma'am," Dominic said, striding across DeWitt's office, noting that she'd taken refuge behind her desk.

"I thought you might be interested in this, Mr. Dominic," she said, sliding a file folder across the desk.

Aware of her intense scrutiny, he opened the file. Looking up at him was a photo of Dennis Evanston captioned Active Boyce Border of New York House. "I thought Dennis wasn't an active."

"Topher didn't look closely enough. Effort was taken to conceal this one."

Unsure of how to forge ahead on the topic of Dennis/Boyce, Dominic opted out. "There was a glitch with Sierra her last time out."

"It was my understanding that nothing was amiss until she came in."

Dominic conceded the point with a shrug. "Topher says—."

"I have heard what Topher has to say on the subject. I am waiting to hear from you."

"I'm not sure what happened," he began, assessing how much or how little he should say.

"Your best guess?"

"Certain of Sierra's recent imprints are—I'm not sure exactly how to put this. Some of the imprinted personalities are comfortable to be around. For me. I don't know how that translates into what happened. Or even if it does."

"I see."

Dominic tapped the file folder he'd brought on her desk. "Topher and Dr. Saunders have submitted their report on the drug Dennis gave you."

Her tension was immediately palpable. "And?"

"I haven't read it." An artfully raised eyebrow prompted him to add, "It seemed appropriate that you get the information first."

Holding out her hand for the folder, she muttered, "Indeed." As she opened it, she said, "Do sit down, Laurence, you're looming."

He complied and waited while she read. His eyes tracked the motion when she crossed her legs. Catching himself, Dominic focused his attention on one of DeWitt's Murano glass paperweights.

"Mr. Dominic?"

"Hmmm?" DeWitt pushed the open folder across the desk. She had already positioned it so the writing was right side up from Dominic's perspective. Unable to characterize the look in her eyes, he glanced at the conclusion of the report.

The hallucinogenic compound released from the active's cologne altered the subject's perceptions such that she saw what she wished to see. In sum, the strategy behind this effort appears to have been to offer Ms. DeWitt the companion of her choosing in the person of an active of similar appearance.

Schooling his face to impassivity took much longer than usual. Dominic made sure of his expression before he raised his eyes. This is fine. For all she knows, I read all of both pages she put in front of me.

"Your thoughts, Mr. Dominic?"

"I'd be interested in yours," he said, voice barely above a whisper.

"This report purports to summarize my thoughts."

He ignored her cold tone. "I'd rather hear them from you."

Looking somewhere over his right shoulder, she said, "There have been moments, perhaps too many of them lately, when I have toyed with the idea of seducing you. Had the Evanston situation not arisen, I doubt I would have acted."

"And now that it has," Dominic made absolute certain to keep his expression neutral.

"I have."

Huh? He tilted his head in silent inquiry but she merely leaned back in her chair. Ok. To review. She said she doubted she'd actually have seduced me. Then she seemed to be saying she's seduced me already. Which she hasn't. And this is why my head generally hurts after conversations with her. Dominic rubbed the bridge of his nose and froze. She hasn't seduced … me.

"You slept with him," he blurted, all of the effort to avoid telltale facial expressions wasted by the tone of disbelief. "With Dennis."

"I did. Thinking he was you." Adelle stood.

Automatically, Dominic did as well.

With an aplomb he admired, she stared into his eyes. "And I can't help but wonder, Laurence. How does the cheap imitation stand up to the real thing?" She smiled in a way that made Dominic nervous. "I suspect there will be a distinction."

Allowing himself a slight smirk in self defense, he said, "Maybe even with a difference."

THE END