Deep Thoughts And Playful Antics

Bat!

Bat! Bat!

Jim stifled a chuckle, knowing that if he startled Felicity, the cat would stop. And he was enjoying the show.

Bat! Bat! Bat!

The show, of course, being Felicity batting at Blair's hair. His partner had fallen asleep on the couch while grading papers, and his shoulder-length mane of curls hung over the arm of the couch. And Felicity had turned said mane into a cat toy.

Anything not nailed down. He smirked, remembering his words to his partner a few weeks ago when the cat had first shown up. He stubbornly shoved Blair's rebuttal to the back of his mind, determined not to think about it.

It was cute, how even asleep, Blair seemed to be aware of the feline playing with his hair – and didn't mind. Blair had actually rolled slightly so that more of his hair hung over the couch arm, which pleased Felicity to no end.

I wish I could do that, the thought crept unbidden into Jim's mind.

No, no I don't, he told himself.

Yeah, right, that sarcastic little voice volleyed back. You want to touch his hair. You want to touch his hair, his lips, his dic–

NO! No, I don't. But the words sounded feeble even in his own mind.

Okay, maybe you don't.

Wary after all the time that voice had spent trying to get him to admit to his feelings, he asked, "I don't?" not even aware he'd spoken aloud.

And you definitely don't want Felicity getting her paws on your jewels – Jim gulped and winced as Blair's rebuttal came charging to the forefront of his mind like a freight train – but I bet you wouldn't mind if Blair got his hands – or something else – on them.

Luckily – or unluckily, as that little voice seemed to think – at that moment Blair started to wake up, signaling the end of Jim's internal conflict.

"Hummm… Wha?" he asked, yawning hugely. He tried to rise from the couch and was stopped short by Felicity's clawed grip on a hank of his hair. "Ow! Huh?"

Shaking off his not-innocent-by-any-means thoughts about his partner's naked body, Jim chuckled. "It seems our pet feline doesn't want to let go of her new toy, Chief."

Blair shot him an uncomprehending look. "New toy?"

"Your hair, Darwin." Jim gestured at the curly lock that Felicity was now chewing on.

Blair craned his neck, managing to catch sight of the cat out of the corner of his eye. "Oh, man! Why did she have to fixate on my hair? She's getting cat spit and tuna breath all over it." He reached down and started trying to disentangle his hair from her clawed grip, not meeting with much success.

"The price you pay for having long hair." Jim shrugged. "Guess my receding hairline is finally an advantage."

Blair huffed and yanked harder on the hank of hair that Felicity was still hanging onto. "Yeah, I guess so," he grunted. "A little help here, man?"

Jim chuckled and reached down, deft fingers pulling out stubborn claws and finally releasing Blair from his feline imprisonment.

"Thanks, man," Blair said, not hiding the relief in his voice.

"No problem, Chief," Jim said, thinking, I'd do a whole lot more to see that smile on your face.

That traitorous voice was back. So, you like his smile, hmm? Imagine how he'd look, flushed and panting underneath you as you–

Shut up! I do not have a thing for my best friend.

Watching as Blair brought Felicity up into his lap to pet her, Jim swore he could hear that little voice saying, Yeah, right. He had a sinking feeling that he hadn't heard the last of it.