Author's Note: Now its Casey's turn. XD From Janet Milligan's POV.

Big thanks again to Kuryakinsgirl!

ENJOY!

JC Carmicheal

The Solo Session Part II.

There was a black cloud. A huge black cloud of anxiety and nervousness encompassed the entire waiting room. Janet Milligan saw why.

"Mr Carmicheal?"

The six foot four towering behemoth rose slowly from the sofa and strode across the floor, leaving a room of frightened men and women actually cowering in their seats.

When they reached her office, Janet grabbed her note book and Dictaphone and settled into her usual chair. James Carmicheal sat on the sofa, crossed his leg over and rested his foot on his knee. His arms spread out over the back of the sofa and he began to stare at her.

"So. How have you been since our last session?"

There was no reply, only the intense glare of those hypnotizing blue eyes. She tried to see what was hidden behind them, looking for any indications of what he was feeling.

She could tell he didn't want to be here, but as the stare lingered on and on, the doctor couldn't quite bring herself to ask another question. He may be angry but he was in complete control of himself.

Of course, he had to be. She had researched his business from the internet and any man who dealt in security like he did wouldn't have been successful if he didn't have control. He wasn't going to give up anything unless he wanted to.

"Can I get you a drink or anything?" she asked.

Still there was nothing but the stare. Those eyes. He seemed to bore into her with those ice blues, and Janet felt as if he was reading her mind, uncovering all of her secrets that she had been hiding deep within. She was supposed to be doing that to him. But that stare. Those eyes!

Her pen dropped on the floor.

Milligan cursed under her breath as she picked it up and when she sat upright he hadn't moved a muscle.

James Carmicheal was nothing at all like his son. Whilst Charles had this sweet caring and loveable manner about him, his father was intimidating. He had a clear dangerous streak about him that wasn't at all present in his son. In the other sessions James had been brusque and cocky, coming out with comments that were supposed to have shocked her and at the time it did. Just a little bit. But this was completely different.

Still he would not break apart that stare.

"Charles tells me you had an argument with your daughter."

Did his eyes even blink once?

"Your daughter is dating someone you don't like?"

There was a low rumbling, a warning that seemed to say to her "Don't go there."

Janet Milligan was very good at her job, she was the best and she had dealt with difficult clients. There were those who talked too much and ones who said nothing at all like James Carmicheal. Some of her clients were frightening, very threatening indeed, or at least had that in their personalities.

With him. She couldn't figure it out. He was angry. But he wasn't.

He was dangerous. But he wasn't.

Nothing seemed right.

But those eyes….unblinking, unrelenting.

She felt her breathing deepen. Sweat was beading on her forehead and her pen was now no longer making legible notes on the paper. Instead just squiggles streaked across the page as her hand refused to co-ordinate with what her brain was trying to tell her.

This was a loving husband?

Involuntarily Janet remembered those things he had revealed before.

The pancakes.

Syrup…cream. It all gave her the image of this large…muscular man…eating and licking from quivering, sweating naked flesh. His wife? No…her.

Her eyes widened when she saw, at last, a slight up curl of his lips.

He was smiling at her.

He'd played her!

"I…I don't appreciate being toyed with, Mr Carmicheal." Janet found her voice, but it still croaked as she tried to get over the hot flushes that were pulsing over every inch of her body. "I'm here to discuss your disagreements with your son."

"Hmm."

There was a faint tone of amusement in that simple grunting sound. Mocking.

"I'm here to help you. If you don't wish to talk, its fine. You still pay for the session."

At last, almost fifty minutes later, James Carmicheal finally moved. His foot slipped off his knee and he pulled his arms up off the back of the sofa and leant forward.

Janet watched his slow deliberate movements, she got caught by the clothes that draped over the (damned fine) body…the black green shirt opened at the top by several buttons and revealed dark hair beneath. His black trousers fit so snugly over his legs that she watched them bulge and ripple as he moved.

He got up from the sofa and came over to her, that small smile still touching at the corner of his lips. Those eyes still burrowed deep within her.

"Mr Carmicheal." she gasped again. "This is not acceptable behaviour. Do you want my help or not?"

"You can't do anything for me." he whispered.

"Then perhaps we should cancel our sessions."

"If you want."

He rose up to his full height and then slowly began to walk out of the door. But something in Janet Milligan made her get up out of her chair and quite abruptly blurt out:

"Would you consider coming to group sessions, Mr Carmicheal?"

She didn't see the full blown smile drift across John Casey's face. Nor did she expect his rather contradicting reply.

"Sure. I'll be there."


"He calls that charm?" gasped Chuck, tearing off the headphones and shaking his head. "He just stared at her, intimidated her and quite possibly frightened her! Beckman told us to be tactful!"

Sarah couldn't believe what had just occurred in the last fifty five minutes. She agreed with Chuck, it wasn't something that she herself would have responded to, but it had worked for Casey.

The poor doctor was surely swayed by such a performance.

She must be so confused.

"I hope…I hope that he didn't win my sister over like that."

"No, Chuck. He didn't. Because that wasn't Casey."

It was all a cover.

It was part of his job.