This was written for a prompt on the meme requesting Harvey having issues with pets. I couldn't resist writing it. This story takes place in the Animal Instinct universe where Mike is a pet psychic. Hope you all like it!

Harvey awoke to the unpleasant feeling of being suffocated.

Opening his eyes, he found the source of his arrested inhalations to be his very own aggravating feline, who had apparently decided that the most optimal place to sleep was atop Harvey's chest.

He pushed the cat off with an irritated and relieving shrug, gasping a quiet mouthful of air into his lungs and swatting angrily at a cloud of floating hair that threatened to clog his airway. Beside him Mike stirred.

Harvey froze, not wanting to wake the sleeping man. Mike had come home from somewhere late last night, too tired to explain what had gone horribly wrong this time, and had been tossing in his sleep since his head had hit the pillow. Holding his breath, Harvey slipped out from under the covers, untangling himself from Mike's grasp, and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

He gave Mike's sleeping form one last longing look, wishing uselessly that he hadn't been so rudely awakened, before deciding to give up and resume work on his current aggravating casework.

A quick step off the bed, however, ended with a pained high-pitched yelp and a very much overpriced mass of carpet fibers shoving themselves into Harvey's nose.

It seems the dog had also been bent on killing Harvey, he'd just been far sneakier about it.

"Harvey?" a sleepy voice asked from the comfort of the fluffy bed.

"Shit," Harvey cursed under his breath. He really hadn't wanted to wake Mike. "Shh, go back to sleep, Mike."

There was no reply other than the sound of rustling bed sheets. With a grunt, Harvey heaved himself off the floor, avoided the well-aimed dart of dog tongue aimed at his face, nearly stepped on the cat's tail and managed to make it into the living room without further injury to himself or the animals.

With a sigh, Harvey approached his refrigerator and withdrew the orange juice. He grabbed his large pile of folders and legal pads and settled himself on the sofa. Mike would yell at him for drinking out of the carton were he awake. Harvey envied him.

After about an hour, he realized that his orange juice was empty, and that it was still nowhere near daybreak. He set the folder he'd been holding in front of him down only to discover that he'd been mindlessly petting the cat that had apparently been nestled in his lap for the past hour. He'd had quite enough of this (and so had his designer silk pajamas), and with a much ruder shove than he'd given in the bedroom, removed the cat from his lap, only (of course) to find that the dog had been sleeping on his foot.

The result of his attempt to stand was a crash loud enough to wake the neighbors three floors down, and Harvey hoped that Mike would prove a deep sleeper.

He was wrong.

"Harvey?" Mike asked from the doorway to the bedroom.

Harvey had been in the process of untangling himself from the lamp chord's stranglehold and the clutches of his coffee table when Mike called him. He watched helplessly as the dog rushed to Mike, jumping on him and nearly knocking him off his feet.

Harvey rolled his eyes and found his evil cat sitting atop the sofa, staring at him with mocking eyes.

"What are you looking at?" he asked it in a low growl.

"What's going on?" Mike asked, now bracing himself against the door frame and rubbing his sleep encrusted eyes.

"Nothing. Go back to bed." Harvey gave up on untangling the lamp and simply stood, the chord still wrapped impossibly around his shoulders.

"Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be okay?" Harvey asked, hoping he sounded mildly offended.

Mike stared at him suspiciously.

"These damned things are driving me crazy," he huffed out finally. Maybe Mike could force them to go to sleep. He had that weird power after all. "Why did I let you keep them, again?"

Mike blinked and crossed his arms. He looked amused to say the least. "Harvey, they're your pets."

"Oh. Yeah." He'd almost forgotten. The animals had taken to Mike from day one, so he'd managed to somehow forget that they weren't actually Mike's pets. "Well, technically, I never asked for this one," and he pointed in annoyance at the hazardous canine snuffling innocently at the lamp that was still affixed to Harvey's appendages.

Mike's amusement turned to anger. "Are you trying to hurt me, or just Oscar?"

Harvey blinked. He really wasn't in the mood for this. "Look, I'm sorry. Just…I can't sleep and these things are like walking death traps! First they loved each other, then they were trying to kill each other, and now they're just trying to kill me!"

"Somehow I feel you wanted to use the word 'assassinate'." Mike's smirk was back.

Harvey let out a grin. "I plead the fifth. Anyway, isn't there anything you can do with your purported abilities?"

"So you believe in them, now."

"No, I believe in you."

There was a silence that stretched on for a painful amount of time. Finally, Mike smiled. "That's not what I—" Harvey hastily amended.

"Too late," Mike interrupted in a yell that Harvey could only describe as triumphant.

"Fine," he growled back. "Can you just…"

"Already did. C'mon, let's go back to sleep."

Harvey let out a relieved sigh and made to follow Mike into the bedroom.

A hand pressed against his chest stopped him though, and Harvey gave Mike a questioning look.

"I was talking to the lamp," Mike said, wide grin on his face.

Harvey looked at Stuart, who was still gazing knowingly at him from the couch, and began extricating himself from the clutches of the lamp chord. "Do you see what I have to put up with?"

Mike laughed and pulled them both into the room.

So, I might write more of these one-shot things, but I haven't decided. I guess it depends on whether or not you readers want them...