Getting past security guards was a snap. Secretaries, on the other hand, had a 60/40 success rate if he wasn't with someone on the CBI team to act as a diversion. Being by himself this time, Jane had tried for charm first, but when that failed (yes, it did happen on occasion), he'd gone for the less subtle method of pointing at an object to her
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Like everyone else, he'd shed his normal clothes and took on a much more interesting look. Leather was his preference. To this place he wore leather pants and impressive looking biker boots. He was shirtless and it did show a number of healing burn marks across his body.... as one would expect of a masochist. He did wear a mask but it was simple and wouldn't conceal his identity from anyone who was looking for him. He also wore leather bondage cuffs on his wrists and even had a collar ( ... )
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The Dominatrix gave Jane the once over and a growing smirk. "Sure thing, honey," she stepped aside like it was her idea. She shot... 'Ba'al' a look, which he returned. It could be a read as a silent 'you sure you want to go with him look.'
He kept up the appearance of a good submissive. He gave a small nod of a bow and headed toward the back rooms. If Jane didn't direct him, he picked the first available room. All the rooms were similar. A few pieces of bondage equipment, a bed, the essentials.
Once inside, he waited in the middle of the room with his hands behind his back.
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"So you told the doorman I was coming." He didn't ask it like a question, because it really wasn't one. The next one was, though. "What made you think I'd follow you here?"
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He flashed a brief smile. "I believe you already have the answer," he said as he pulled his mask off. "This is the safest place to speak. May I see the picture again?" he asked as he held out his hand.
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"So your lady friend out there," he said, lounging against the door a little, "what's her name? Interesting outfit she had on." A beat passed. "You as well. Very-- Judas Priest, without the guitars."
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He held the picture back out the Jane. He smirked at the mention of his outfit. "And what would you prefer? Latex, perhaps?" he asked thoughtfully then answered his own question, "No, you strike me as one who would remain fully clothed."
"Tea?" he asked soon after. "They expect us to be a hour or more. Might as well make the most of it, yes?"
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"Tea? Yes, I'd love some. Just tell me whether the girl was a regular, and who her regular acquaintances were," he added, just to make sure he covered all his bases and didn't let Hadad omit anything because he wasn't asking the right questions. He was at least satisfied that this time, Hadad was telling the truth about the victim so far.
He took the picture back, holding it between his thumb and first two fingers for a second, as he was asked about...ahem, latex or leather. "Oh, I have no preference," he replied quickly, stuffing the picture into his lapel pocket. He needed to shift the focus of the conversation, before it got uncomfortable.
Jane thought back to the woman he'd stolen Hadad from, reviewing details in his mind until it clicked.
"She must enjoy the role reversal as much as you do," he mused, his analytical face on. "The first shall be last, and so forth. Interesting. I can see the appeal. For someone like you, I mean."
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"She was a skilled Dominatrix. She had many regulars and many who vied for her attention. Those of her skill are extremely hard to find I'm afraid," he explained as he heated the water. "An... endangered species, if you will," he said as he turned from his work.
On the subject of his own practices, he shrugged. "I doubt you fully understand," he commented.
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His tone was matter-of-fact. "Oh, those with power enjoy the release of giving it up. Those who don't have it enjoy the fantasy of taking it. Pretty standard, really."
He didn't have any personal investment in the rarity of a good Dominatrix, but did have an appreciation for someone with an extremely specialized skill set being removed from their community of peers. All his life he'd grown up with fire-breathers, sword-swallowers, and carnival entertainers of every type. They were a family, no doubt, so when something happened to one of their own, it hit on a personal level. As-- unique as this group was, it was likely the same. Hard to find people with these kind of preferences in casual interaction.
"Ah," he said, holding up a finger re: the tea. "Not too hot. Kills the flavor."
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"Tell me something, Mister Jane. Why do you do what you do? You chase dangerous killers and put yourself on the line. You are alone in a room with someone who could prove quite dangerous. It would be foolish of me to think I'm not considered as a suspect. You've thrown yourself--" he paused to stop the water boiling and make the tea. With his back to Jane, he continued, "--into situations in which odds are grossly against you. A... lesser man would cut his losses and retreated."
His movements were strangely practiced as he continued with the tea, like he'd done so millions of times.
"Do you believe you can control the outcome simply by your force of presence? Be the better man, so to speak."
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"I have good backup," he replied, shrugging a shoulder with some nonchalance. "Besides, you wouldn't try to hurt me. Everyone saw you walk in here as my charge; it would break the rules."
Odds were a subjective thing, based on the perspective and bias of the person tabulating them. If he thought there were little chance of success--or even less than half--he'd abstain, or at least take someone with him to tip the scales a bit. Cho worked very well in this regard, being almost entirely trusting and useful for muscle.
Most importantly, Jane did control the outcomes of most situations, if only steering them in the desired direction and betting on probable behavior on lesser days. There was no one better at this than him.
"Are you trying to make me out to be a better man so you can show me my place?" he quipped, countering Hadad's challenge.
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He'd turned back to the tea. He poured it and even remembered the milk. He didn't move to take to him though, not yet. He was more interested to see if Jane would press him on it. As for the counter, he let out a low laugh. "Mmm, and what place would that be?"
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"My guess is 'below you'," he said, in the interim. "You practically held it up on a neon sign when we met earlier. You enjoy making people think you're in absolute control of a situation, even when you're not."
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"What I would do in regards to you, is merely what I would wish to be done to myself. A paradox, really."
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"A little self-loathing never hurt anyone," he quipped, taking another quick sip. The tea was far more acceptable this time. "Paradox? Not really. Just transference. Happens all the time."
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