Rodney was remembering there was a reason he didn’t usually heal small furry mammals with his brain.

Namely, once the necessary telepathic link was formed, it stuck.

Not that he was fighting urges to bound across the city after Sheppard, or nibble food from his hand, or bury his nose in the soft hollow of his throat. Nothing like that.

But.

“Yeah, c’mere,” Sheppard said, pulling the little warm body against his own warm chest and stroking its belly with gentle, loving hands.

Rodney didn’t have a tail to wag, but his foot beat a rough tattoo against the floor.