Soon I'll let you go, soon I'll let you go (for omnomgoauld)

[clearlythatsme]

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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[clearlythatsme]

Jane was nothing if not patient when certain situations called for it, and had spent most of his afternoon doing Sudoku while he waited for the clubs to open. He'd never been in one, and was a bit unsure as to protocol, but didn't plan to be in it long enough to concern himself with that. The place would surely have a bartender or doorman that was familiar with regular patrons, and Jane could ask of the victim's habits without causing a stir with a badge, which would have been completely counter-productive (or maybe not).

Normally so adept at hiding himself in a crowd, Jane found himself slightly challenged by how much he was going to stick out in a sea of leather-clad patrons. But the bold approach could work just as well--with confidence to sell it--so he squared his shoulders and sauntered up to the doorman, who pulled the velvet rope for him before even being addressed. Jane attempted a brief inquiry, but the doorman held up a hand and merely pointed inside. After pausing a brief second, Jane shrugged and made his way in. He might not be as unannounced as he'd thought.

Inside, the club was about how he'd imagined: darkly lit, lots of plush reds and blacks, music with lots of pulsing bass and sultry vocals (but not so loud as to force shouting). Jane made his way purposefully through tight hallways (designed to encourage physical contact, no doubt), drawing a multitude of looks from men and women alike. This wasn't new to him; he knew he was attractive--perhaps even a bit roguish--but managed to take it all in stride, knowing the looks were probably less due to his face than the fact he was wearing a simple suit at a PVC convention. Still, he avoided direct eye contact (if you're not in business, don't advertise). One thing that definitely played to his benefit here: mere surface attraction wasn't the currency in this place-- it was power, or the ceding of it. And he was quite wealthy.

Jane wandered past the bar, getting only a scrap of information from the bartender, before realizing (perhaps stupidly) that there was a strict confidentiality code at play. It made sense, to help protect the private lives of others with similar tastes, but it was awfully inconvenient. He didn't have ideal space to work here, not without Cho or Lisbon backing him. Wait, was that Hadad--? His luck just went up. Jane got a quick read on the situation, not hard to do with such obvious body language, and formulated a brilliant plan while approaching.

"I don't appreciate you being so hard to find," he said in his most authoritative voice, posture erect and commanding. One hand remained in his pants pocket, as if he could not be arsed to reprimand with both hands. Jane turned to the Dominatrix, leveling a polite tip of his head at her, as if to thank her for watching his quarry for him. "I'll be taking this one to the back for a little discipline. Hold my calls." Then he turned back to Hadad, nodding in the direction of some back rooms he'd spied. "Let's go."

He could not be more proud of himself.

[omnomgoauld]

It wasn't acting he nearly spit-taked when Jane came over like that. He struggled for a second to regain composure. He gave Jane the expected glare then glanced down to the floor in the usual submissive demeanor. He had expected him to come here but he hadn't expected him to be quite so bold about it.

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.

[clearlythatsme]

Jane prompted him to walk into one of the rooms, keeping up the facade of a good Dom. Once in, he shut the door behind himself, finally letting a little of his amusement show, before relaxing his posture and standing normally.

"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?"

[omnomgoauld]

Once the door was closed, he let out a sigh. His own posture relaxed, it appeared as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

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.

[clearlythatsme]

Jane let his gaze linger on Hadad for a moment, as if he were unsure whether he'd actually be getting help this time, before he finally went for his pocket and handed the photo over.

"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."

[omnomgoauld]

"Did you not recognize her?" he asked casually as he looked over the picture again. Now he was actually looking at it. "We never did scene together," he said referring to the picture.

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?"

[clearlythatsme]

Jane grinned happily.

"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."

[omnomgoauld]

He moved to a cabinet in the corner. From it he pulled out a tea set, electric tea pot and of course, the tea. There was also a small refrigerator there. He briefly exited the room into the attached bathroom to get water.

"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.

[clearlythatsme]

Great, the suspect pool just increased. Jane frowned on the inside; he hated taking a step forward and three steps back. Then again, at least the niche nature of the potential suspects would help their search for the real killer.

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."

[omnomgoauld]

"On the surface, yes. That is what it appears to be," he commented. He glanced back at the teapot. He seemed amused by reminder.

"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."

[clearlythatsme]

Jane looked around the room, taking in the details and furnishings.

"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.

[omnomgoauld]

"Perhaps," he allowed, "Yet, it could also be said you ordered me to do so. Though, I assure you, I have no particular wish to hurt you. Unless you wanted it, of course."

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?"

[clearlythatsme]

"Not my cup of tea," he replied, shrugging a shoulder. "Speaking of tea, if you would?" Jane indicated the cup Hadad was tending, an eager expression on his face.

"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."

[omnomgoauld]

"I would take a certain pleasure in that, yes. For a purely narcissistic reason, I assure you. You," he said as he finally picked up the tea. He brought it up to his mouth like he was going to drink it himself but stopped before lips touched. His eyes on Jane when he did that. Then he replaced it on the saucer and brought it over to him. "Are very much like myself," he finished.

"What I would do in regards to you, is merely what I would wish to be done to myself. A paradox, really."

[clearlythatsme]

Jane took the cup. "Is that so?" he asked with a slight smirk, his voice far more flat than a regular question would be, showing how little he believed the assessment of their similarity (maybe not the control thing, though-- that was true enough). After having a sip, he held the saucer and cup, ready to opine again.

"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."

[omnomgoauld]

Something about the word 'transference' caused the man to smile in a very mysterious fashion.

"Ah, you are mistaken. It's hardly self-loathing," he corrected. He glanced at the cup thoughtfully for a moment.

"However, I can't say the same thing about you. Despite our similarities," he said as he casually came closer. "Any fool can see you hate yourself for the death of your wife and child. You will avenge them no doubt, but the pain you feel... you feel it's deserving. Not just due to the fate of your family."

"All those years of being something you weren't. Profiting on pain. No doubt you offered piece of mind to many. They did have to pay for your reassurances."