Authors Comments: Written for Moon's birthday, leader of the lair, bringer of muscled goodness in the form of our beloved lair-men, and lover of all things animal. Hence, the panther pays a visit...

feral dreams

He could feel the smooth cool fur under his fingers, muscles under the skin moving slightly as its weight shifted above him. A huge heavy paw landed on his chest, spreading out as the animal leant forward, its claws sliding out enough to settle on Jim's flesh through his t-shirt. He felt its heady breath touch his face as a jet black snout loomed closer, snuffling at him, deep black eyes staring at his closed ones. Another paw settled on his stomach, squashing his insides as whiskers tickled his cheek. From the depth of his dreams his right hand drifted to the animals scruff and buried his fingers in it, holding onto the big cat as if it were a teddy bear. Slowly opening his eyes his gaze met his animals guide's, up close to his face and staring. Its eyes reflected Jim's face back at him as the cat's lips curled up and it started to growl. Deep down in its throat the sound vibrated, bubbling up from the creatures insides and sliding into Jim's ears, droning into his brain.

Abruptly, its paws shoved into him as it pushed off and leapt to the floor at the side of the bed, mouth splitting and letting loose a rich roar, nose crinkling upwards as it called. With its head twisted back to look at him it padded towards the door, letting loose one last roar. Jim sat up in bed, watching the animals long black tail disappear round the door frame of his room. Blinking and pulling out his ear plugs, he instantly tuned in to the sound of retching, and a fast heart-beat. Throwing back his covers he pounded out of his room, heading for the source of the sounds - the bathroom. Had he been unsure, he would have been clutching his gun as he entered the room, but the sounds were too familiar to him - a testimony to the amount of times he had nursed his sick partner.

Making sure his footsteps were loud so as not to startle his room-mate, he strode over to Blair's side and crouched down, placing a comforting hand on the younger man's shoulder as he sat crouched over the tiolet bowl.

"I thought you weren't back 'til next week Sandburg. What happened?"

Blair spat, coughing slightly as he stared miserably into the toilet, "think i caught something. Didn't want to use the medical services out there, they can make you even worse."

"Why didn't you go straight to the emergency room?" Jim asked gently, reaching for some tissues.

"Dunno," Blair muttered, sweat dripping from his face into the water below. He took the proferred tissues and wiped his mouth with a shaking hand, shoving the flush handle down as Jim got to his feet. Blair sank back to the floor as he heard the detective thundering around the apartment, no-doubt gathering things. He re-entered the bathroom a few minutes later, one shoe on and the other in his hand, carrying Blair's thick coat and wearing his own. A rucksack was strung over his shoulders and Blair's shoes fell to the ground as Jim attempted to juggle everything in his arms.

The young scholar grabbed for his shoes and pulled them on, his hands weak as he tried to do up the laces. Jim helped him to his feet and draped his coat around his shoulders, leading him out into the apartment's main room and unlatching the door.

Blair pulled the coat round him miserably. "It's probably just the flu," he griped.

Jim picked a thick black hair from his t-shirt, noticing three tiny puncture holes in the white fabric over his chest. He frowned and pushed Blair gently out of the apartment.

"Flu my ass, Chief."