Itachi never mixes business with pleasure. It's been his motto from the beginning. But one has to have an affinity for certain things to do what he does. His entire business hinges on his personality and personal preferences, yet separation is in order. He knows how to remain professional while stretching his legs on the human footrest kneeling before his office couch. He swirls his drink, checks his watch, and counts the seconds.

Thirty more.

He glances over his forearm when her back dips ever so slightly. Itachi notices when she notices him watching. He raises a brow when she bites her lip. The session bell dings. He removes his feet.

"How long did I last this time?" The woman arches her back to stretch while Itachi gets up to gather paperwork.

"Four minutes and thirty seconds," he informs her, then jots the information down in her file. "Nearly ten seconds longer than last time."

His client whines and throws herself on the same couch he was just sitting on. "I thought for sure I could make it this time!"

Itachi grabs cold water from the mini-fridge near his desk, pours it in a chilled glass then gets two small ice packs for her knees.

"You're improving," he points out, "Here."

She mumbles thanks, sitting the glass of water on the coaster near the end table. Itachi takes the seat in his chair across from her. Space is necessary when sessions are done to re-establish boundaries.

"I'm improving how? I didn't reach my goal for this week." The woman pressures the ice pack to her redden knees, wincing at the cold.

Deep gray eyes watch and wait for her to get settled. The idea to move to bare knees was her request. Itachi gives what his clients ask. They know what they need more than he does. He thinks the move is the right one even if she doesn't see the progress she's made.

He crosses his leg over his knee and leans back in his chair. "What were your goals for the week?"

The woman scowls. Itachi waits to see if she will act out. The anger bubbles up a little but dies almost as soon as it comes. Internally, he smiles.

Good.

"I was supposed to kneel for five minutes," she says. "I only did it for four minutes."

"And thirty seconds," he adds.

She snorts, looks at him for approval that he doesn't give, then corrects herself. "Four minutes and thirty seconds."

Itachi nods his head to the side at the end table where her water sits. "You also didn't kick the table."

The woman turns her eyes to the glass of water sitting on the end table that is still upright. Months ago, she tried to hurl it across the room. Weeks ago she kicked it in a corner. Today, she never thinks to touch it.

"Oh."

Itachi sits quietly with her moment of realization.

"I guess I didn't," her smile is one of satisfaction with progress that often goes unnoticed.

He's seen this play out more times than he can count. It's always harder for the client to see how far they have come. But that's why he's there to put things into perspective. To snub out the flames of stress and help them process in the most unorthodox way. The woman grabs the glass to drink. Itachi grabs her file.

"Do you want to set the same goal for next week?" he asks.

She swallows then nods, "Yes, sir."

"Mr. Uchiha," he absently corrects, "We are not in session anymore."

The woman laughs nervously, a common habit and common mistake. "Right. Sorry."

He notes the time for her next session then gives pamphlets on appropriate after-care. She goes to the back to change clothes while Itachi adds notes on his computer.

When she emerges dressed in the business attire she comes in, Itachi stands and walks her to the door.

"I've sent the invoice to your assistant this time," he informs and helps her into her coat.

The woman smiles at him with newly applied red lipstick. "Thanks. The last thing I need is my husband asking more questions than he already does."

Itachi wants to tell her she should just explain to her husband that she's in therapy. But it's not his place to give that kind of advice.

He chooses to say nothing. She waves him off with a guarantee to return next week.

As soon as she leaves, he puts the furniture back in its place. Then Itachi grabs his coat and scarf, flicks off the lights, and departs for the afternoon. Closing the door to the unmarked office that takes up a secluded section of one floor, he enters the keycodes to lock everything, then walks to the elevator.

The people in the building know his face but not what he does. Itachi tries his best not to take clients who work in this building. Truthfully, he cannot stop any of them from finding him. For that reason, clients sign a code of confidentiality to keep their sessions private. Breaking the contract results in legal action should any defamation or libel occur.

But that woman is an outlier. She's a business executive on the floor right above him. She's been his client for six months and Itachi still doesn't trust her to keep her mouth shut. Once she reaches the five-minute goal, he's releasing her from his care.

The elevator door opens. Itachi steps off, blending in with the number of men in suits passing in different directions in the lobby.

The woman at the desk has his car ready, having received his scheduled leave time earlier in the day. The doorman tips his hat when Itachi steps out into the cold afternoon air. He offers a nod, gets in his car, and drives to meet Sasuke at a restaurant for lunch.

Every week, he and his brother plan to have lunch together. With Itachi's client schedule having him out of the house at odd hours and Sasuke's job keeping him late into the night, they need to make time for each other.

The Uchiha brothers eat at one of four restaurants. Today, it's Gangnam, a Korean place that offers grilled meats and pickled sides. It's Sasuke's pick this time. If Itachi had his way, he would go somewhere that does not require him to shower after. He has another client at five.

Sasuke is already there when he arrives, on his phone as always. When Itachi pulls out a chair, he puts it away. His brother's already ordered their food, knowing what Itachi likes. He gets the same thing every time. They order four separate portions of meat to be sent out at specific times. The restaurant manager never complains, probably because she's sleeping with his brother.

"I have a trip coming up," Sasuke announces, "It's a week-long."

Itachi adds another piece of wagyu steak to his plate. "Where are you going this time?"

Sasuke snorts, looking wholly unhappy with the choice of work. "Thailand. Orochimaru has got investors interested in signing contracts but is hesitant after Suigetsu met with them the last time. So now I have to clean up the mess before they change their minds."

"You're good at that," Itachi encourages.

Sasuke rolls his eyes, glaring at the beef as if it were his boss. "I'm not his fucking clean man. If he wanted it done right, he should have sent me in the first place."

Itachi sees where he's coming from. "Did you complain?"

"Of course I did!"

Of course, he does. Sasuke's never taken kindly to taking orders that he doesn't like. It's a wonder that Orochimaru exists to let his brother have his way. If Itachi didn't know that the other man runs the company, he would have been fooled into thinking his brother owns it. Not because he does most of the work, just calls a lot of the shots. Itachi makes sure that he's paid for that too. Having known Orochimaru from high school years. The man is more deplorable than some but less than most. The pharmaceuticals he sells were questionable at best but unfortunately legal. After several failed attempts to recruit him, Itachi made it perfectly clear that should anything happen to his brother he would personally see to it Orochimaru takes responsibility.

"Plus, I have to travel with Kabuto and fuck that shit." the younger Uchiha shoves a chopstick full of rice in his mouth.

Itachi raises a brow. "For the same deal?"

Sasuke waves his hands and grabs his sake. "Same company, different contracts. The main one's on me. Kabuto's working with the scientist."

"Hnn."

They go round for round, about work and personal affairs. Sasuke takes care of the bill this time and heads to a meeting with investors across town. Itachi goes home to rid himself of the scent of grilled meat.

A/N: I apologize for nothing.

-CeCe^^