your hair..

Long, curly, fluffy.. and dale loves it.

He personally finds his FBI partners most attractive trait being her hair. He can't keep his hands to himself. You two have unfortunately grown close enough for him to touch your hair whenever he can.

You're talking to a suspect? Dales paying half attention because he trusts that you can handle it. The person is watching, zoned out as dale gets himself tangled in your long locks, plays with it, laying his head on the back of your neck, surrounded by your hair.

It's one of his favorite things to play with.

Harry is sitting in the conference room, at the very end of the table. As you lay across your chair boredly. Legs dangling off the arm of your chair, half of your upper half hanging off the arm of the other side of chair. Dale sat in a chair across from you, sitting politely, hands folded on the table as he read a file, sipping his coffee.

He slowly turned to you, and started to play with your hair, all of your hair draped over his lap, he took some of your hair and hung it over his upper lip, using it as a mustache. His hands getting tangled in your hair.

"Is there a day where you don't tangle yourself in that hair?"

Harry smiled at how silly you two where, sipping his own coffee.

Dale grinned, the hair falling off his upper lip.