What's In A Name?

What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other word would smell as sweet. – Juliet Capulet to Romeo Montague

William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene II

A soft thump on the kitchen table heralded Felicity's arrival in Blair's impromptu workspace. He took a moment from his typing to greet her with a pat to her head and some absentminded words.

"Hey, Fleecy," Blair said, using the nickname he'd come up with for their pet. Jim had jokingly called her 'Felix' once, after the black and white character in that old cartoon, but – despite the fact that 'felix' actually meant 'cat' in Latin – the appellation hadn't stuck. Now the Sentinel mostly called her Flame; mostly for her reddish fur, but almost for her fiery temper.

She'd scratched up Jim's arm but good when he'd made an idle comment one day; he'd said that she was getting as fat as Garfield. She had put on a little weight – Wonderburger French fries definitely weren't good for her girlish figure, and since she always ended up being 'keeper of the bag' she got more than her fair share – but wasn't nearly as obese as the famous orange-striped feline.

Simon, once he'd met her – after their infamous PetsMart case; he'd demanded an explanation for how they could know that Jim was allergic to catnip, and decided to show off their newest family member – suggested the moniker of 'fussbudget' when she sneezed at his outstretched hand. Apparently her sensitive feline nose didn't appreciate the smell of a fine cigar.

That nickname, too, didn't stick; Felicity was not fussy, picky or any other word that inhabited the realm of choosy. She, like Jim, had a preference for Wonderburger's fast food cuisine, but other than that seemed content to eat whatever was put in front of her.

Naomi had called her 'Sassy' and she was; 'Fidget' also worked, since she seemed to have more energy than even Blair did, and he'd been compared to the Energizer Bunny.

But none of them – Jim, Blair, Simon, Naomi – could agree on what the best nickname for Felicity was. They normally stuck with Felicity – endearments aside, that was her official name – so as not to incite arguments, but it sure would be nice to be able to come to a consensus.

One hand coming up to scratch behind her ears, Blair kept the other working double time on the keyboard, his ponderings on names always in the back of his mind as he put the finishing touches on an article for the Anthropology Department's monthly newsletter.

Pressing 'print', Blair was so lost in his musings he didn't realize he'd begun mumbling aloud. "A name, a name…"

"What's that, Chief?" Jim asked, looking up from the Jack Kerouac novel he'd been perusing on the couch.

"Huh?" Blair looked up, startled. Realizing he'd been thinking out loud, he said, "Oh, it's nothing really.

A lift of Jim's eyebrow said, 'Go on.'

"Well, I was just thinking about the right nickname for Felicity," Blair said sheepishly. "What do you think is the best one?"

Jim thought for a moment, then pronounced, "Ours."

Blair blinked, then gave his lover a wide grin. "Sounds good, man," he agreed. Whatever they decided to call her – as if Felicity wasn't good enough! – she was still their cat. No name could change that.