Plans and protection. {JimMoriarty, TheWoman}

In a busy street, somewhere in England's capital, London, stood Irene Adler for a door. Not any door. It was the door to one of Moriarty's apartments in London, but she knew he was in this one now. She took a deep breath and pushed on the doorbell. She waited, a bit nervous, until the buzzer buzzed that she could come in.

The buzzer came far to late for her liking. Most of the men/women she paid a visit were so eager to meet her, that they practically were waiting at the door for her. But then she reminded herself again that this was not one of her clients. This man was Professor James Moriarty. The most 'dangerous' man in London, the consulting criminal. Irene was very amused by this name, until it had damaged her personal space. Moriarty had hacked her cameraphone and now her protection was in danger. This was not just business, this was personal.

She stepped inside. Her red stiletto's were very well audible on the tile floor as she walked towards the elevator. Once it was down, she stepped inside and was taken to the highest story of the apartment-complex. When the doors of the elevator opened, she was in a narrow hallway with only one door. The door was ajar. The hallway was very brightly lit, but through the crevice she could see that it was darker behind the door. She straightened her clothes and hair once more and stepped inside the Spider's lair, closing the door behind her back.

One of the loveliest things about being in power is that one gets to keep people waiting. Doing which gives one the upper hand, as the person being made to wait becomes impatient, irritated, and all-around far easier to manipulate. When the sharply-boned woman walks into his flat, he smirks inwardly and outwardly, raising a glass of champagne and gesturing at one on the table that she could take if she so chose.
"Miss Adler. I've heard...so much about you. Whyever could you be deigning to visit me? I'm sure you don't need my...help...?"
She's angry to begin with. Good.

((hot damn you are good at this.))

"You bloody well know why I am here." Her tone was cold and angry.
She didn't accept his inviting gesture and she crossed her arms before her chest. She rose her chin in the air and gave him a fake smile.
When she took sight of the nonchalance in which the consulting criminal behaved, anger rose in her chest. Bastard. It's myjob to dominate people, not yours. she thought fervently. Though, it was kind of exciting to be dominated, if not in a sexual way.

((Thanks! After a long, good post I feel like I just wrote a whole book x) ))

"But I want you to tell me." He smirks. "I'm sure it wouldn't be too difficult."
His teeth glint as his smile widens predatorily, shrugging at her failure to pick up the champagne. It wasn't as though he cared. Probably a smart thing for her, not allowing herself to take anything from him without proof that it was safe. It wasn't poisoned, but she had no way of knowing that.
No, no. She was still useful to him. No poison for her just yet.

Irene narrowed her eyes. He wanted her to be belittled. She growled silently in herself of the lacking defense of her phone in the first place. But now there was no going back anymore, so she had to do what Jim told her to. Still eyeing him, she muttered after heaving a heavy sigh:
"You hacked my cameraphone, knowing that it is my lifework. You..." she swallowed. God, admitting is so hard. "damaged my protection."

His eyes flash in triumph at hearing the words ripped from her throat, reluctant and angry--just how he likes to hear words. His smile again widens, a killer's grin, and he pulls out of his pocket his phone, which holds the downloaded information on it.
He knows it.
She knows it.
He waves the phone, wiggling it teasingly, a 'come and get it'.
"Did I, now?" He singsongs, "I wonder how that possibly could have taken place!"

((I'm sorry I'm replying so late. Yesterday was Queensday (YAY) and now my German family is on their way home, so I've got plenty of time )

Irene clenched her teeth together pouted. How impossible could somebody be!? Even Sherlock was amiable compared to Moriarty.
"I know what you are capable of. Even my strongest defense is not strong enough.. not for you"
She tried to sound uninterested and shallow, though the end of her sentence was edgy. She didn't want to upset Professor James Moriarty. Not in the world.
"You know what I want, don't you?" she purred. She raised her eyebrows and smiled sweetly at the most dangerous man alive in London.

"Oh, yes." He returns her smile, "I do. But I'd love it if you'd tell me. Just to confirm? What, precisely, do you want?"
Word have power.
Making people say words has even more.
And Jim Moriarty? He's powerful. He's so powerful. And he knows, yes, how power works, and who holds the keys and the strings and how it all fits together. Power is a puzzle, a puzzle with millions of pieces and only one man who can figure out how to put together the entire thing.
Jim is that man.

Irene paused for a moment. Giving in took effort for somebody who is used to winning.
"I want my protection back."
Of course Jim was not going to give it to her without trouble. She feared the thought of what he would ask for. Simultaneously, that thought gave her shivers of excitement. She liked playing games, if the opponent was equally qualified. But Dear Jimmy Boy here might be a few levels too high for her to beat.
"What do you want?"

"Mmn, but all I want is to dance. Do you dance, my love?" He asks, glint of madness and glee at power in his eyes, "Protection is such a tricky subject..."
He drops the phone sloooowly back into his pocket, making sure she watches it slide away from her.

"Of course do I dance." She said a bit too fast after seeing Jim lowering his hand. She hoped bringing it up again by her words.
"You only have to ask me."
Maybe she could wait a little with the subject, until he seemed more eager for negotiation.
"Do you dance, my dear Jim?"

Intriguing. How closely her eyes had followed his hand, but how pointedly now she was ignoring it and the phone. How...riveting. He extends a hand, palm facing upwards, for her to take, smiling, dropping into a half-bow. "Oh, but of course. Dancing is...such an important skill, don't you think? An art."

An amused expression crept on her face. Dancing. With James Moriarty. She walked towards him, bending her knees in an accepting gesture as she lay her hand into his. She inhaled silently as she felt Jim's hand on her waist, pulling her closer.

((Oh, God. They're dancing. xD I would kill to see that for real))

He tugs her into his arms, careful to keep his smile on his face, putting an arm around her waist and steering her into a simple box step. There's no music, but he can keep a beat in his head perfectly fine.
He just hopes she doesn't do anything foolish like stepping on his toes.
Not as though it'd make him mad, but one does lose such respect for a bad dance partner.

((Jim is a classy bastard. xD He dances with all the bitches.))
((NoJKjustIrene))

Clients asked for the silliest things, she had experienced, so she could easily keep up with Jim's box-pace. She was a bit disappointed by his choice of dance. She had actually thought him more of a tango-man, but the night was young and so many things could develop over time. She did not dare to let her hand slip into his pocket to retrieve the phone. Oh, no. That would set Moriarty's beast of fury loose, plus: it was too cheap to try for her. She liked it a bit more complicated. She raised her chin to face Moriarty, who was smiling like a mad-man and smiled too, eyes narrowing. She did not miss a single step of their dance. She was not like poor Molly.

He gripped her closer, feeling her every contour. He then leant towards her neck and gently breathed onto it, sending goosebumps through her.

"You Ms Adler are very classy, we could work well together. A perfect partnership."

He turned her around in a spin and bowed, smiling like a Cheshire cat. He held her hand tight, to show he was still in control.

Goosebumps indeed. Moriarty was smart, he knew how to get on to her, to break the wall apart that she had built to ward of her clients. Sherlock Holmes had been the only one who had broken that wall to date, but Jim made a worthy opponent.

"Thank you, Mr Moriarty" She gracefully made a turn, trying to maintain in his eye-contact. "What kind of partnership are you thinking of?" the word -partnership- could be interpreted in various ways. She was curious to his definition.

Jim smiled at her and cocked his head, and offered her a seat. Business was more important that pleasure, that came later on in the night.

"Ms Adler, I have something of yours." tapping his pocket. "And I am sure that the information on here would be valuable to me. So I would need you both for that to work. Does that clarify the situation."

He sat down, and looked at her. Watching every move and reaction.

(( I don't get it, but I want Irene to get it, so who you you mean with 'you both'?))

((Irene would need to offer herself if she wanted the phone back - cryptic..like Jim ;-))

((Ah, alright =) Not a native speaker here))

Irene narrowed her eyes. What exactly was he playing at? Multiple ideas flashed through her mind, one more favourable than another.

"You know I would do anything to get my phone back?" She set up her sweetest smile. Hopefully, he would not torture her too much.

Jim observed her with a smirk and nodded.

"Don't look so concerned, my dear. I want what's best for my organisation."

He sipped the champagne and licked his lips seductively, another approach would be needed.

Irene observed him, the sudden change intrigued her. How fervently she wanted to prevent it, he had an influence on her.

"Please enlighten me, how can I be of your service?"

Jim smirked, the change got her attention and that's what he wanted. He leant forward then topped up the champagne, stroking the tip of the glass with his finger.

"How has business been Ms Adler?"

Intentionally diverting her questioning for now.

Irene took her glass, now convinced that it was not poisoned and took a sip from it. She frowned slightly.

"Busy. And you?"

This conversation looked very normal, if you do not keep in mind that they are the most dangerous person in London and a blackmailing Dominatrix. How pleasantly common she felt.