"<strong>What the fuck.</strong>"<br/><br/>Each word was incredulous, practically staged, but perfectly delivered. Her jaw dropped, her hand coming up to press against the now-burning cheek, and she scrambled to her feet. Her expression burned, practically let off steam from the rolling boil her blood had come to beneath the surface. She'd handled standoffs, hostage situations, suicide jumpers, rabid dogs, all with a demeanor as cool and collected as if she were actually in a 45-minute crime drama on television, smoothly assured that each situation would pan out in its due, occasionally commercial-punctuated time. But this...<em>this</em>was beyond surreal.<br/><br/>They stood in silence for a moment as she seethed, but no words came. She wanted to scream, but instead she scowled, pointing at the computer screen. "Fucking delete it now. You've had your fun, I hope you feel<em>real</em>empowered now that you've slapped a woman across the face -- such a tough guy, aren't you? Now fucking take it off your computer."