A/N: Jim isn't the only one with senses, you know.
Hearing him leave the bathroom, I emerge from my room for the first fix of the day...
The image of him, as he passes me in only a towel, damp sheen from his shower making me imagine the taste if I were to lick the moisture from that hard chest... The fresh-scrubbed scent of his skin, clean and inviting... The touch of his hand warm on my shoulder, the sound of his quiet "Morning, Chief" as he smiles and walks past...
My senses might not be as sharp as his, but he fills them so completely that it doesn't matter.
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