Clint was content enough to watch Jamie fiddle with his hearing aids (which, maybe, he should have felt a bit more concerned about or protective of, but the the guy seemed to know what he was doing, and he worked in medicine and there was an oath about fucking things up intentionally in medicine. Or something) while petting the lickity cat. "What's her name?" He asked of the cat, tilting his head to the side a little to better watch the wand work (which, really, not a great choice of words).
He plucked the floating item out of the air and opened it again without much of a flourish and set about settling the little devices into and around his ears again. No more crackling or cutting off for no reason. It was excellent work, even if he wasn't particularly positive what Jamie had done. But he was grateful. Like, really grateful.
So, of course, instead of actually saying thank you, he cleared his throat and rose his eyebrows. "Do you have to use the wand in your mouth when you're a dog or what?"