Wednesday - Colors

[somehowunbroken]

It's Wednesday, and our prompt today is colors. Maybe one of your characters has a secret favorite color. Maybe they really look great in blue shirts. Maybe they accidentally (or not-so-accidentally) get covered in sparkly green glitter. Your prompt can be silly or serious, longer or shorter, but it must have something to do with a color.

The rules:
-No more than five prompts in a row
-No more than three prompts per fandom
-If your prompts get answered, feel free to post more
-No spoilers in your prompt for at least a week after publication/air date
-If there are spoilers in your fic response, please warn and leave adequate space following the warning to let folks give it a pass.

Please take mercy on our hard working code monkeys and format your prompts properly (and try not to make them overly long).

For example:

-Stargate Atlantis/Stargate SG1, John/Cam, dress blues
-Hawaii Five-0, Steve/Danny + Grace, Grace makes Steve the pinkest card ever for his birthday
-Sanctuary, Tesla and Magnus, "you're out of red wine again"

Tag=color


Have fun!

Comments

[drabblewriter.livejournal.com]

Doctor Who, Donna, she can't figure out why seeing that particular shade of blue always makes her feel this way

Next Stop: Anywhere (Gen, PG)

[inkvoices]

Donna puts the saucepan full of pasta back down on the kitchen counter out of the way as John runs around her legs and under the dining table in the middle of the room. At least he tries to. The over-large police helmet – a plastic kids one some uncle got him, deep blue with a silver crest – makes him a little too tall and he bounces back slightly as it catches the table edge.

“You alright, love?” she asks.

“No stopping!” John ducks his head, scrambles under the table, and successfully comes out of the other side.

“Not even in the name of the law?” Donna asks, hands on her hips.

“I gotta go catch the bad guys!” her son shouts, already in the living room.

She doesn’t quite remember when he started this newest obsession, but she likes that he plays at being a policeman bringing people to justice rather than at killing people like the Thompson’s brat next-door. There are good guys and then there are the real good guys, and the real good guys save people.

It’s just that sometimes when she looks at him with that ridiculous hat slipping down over his eyes she gets a thrill of excitement and possibility and wonder, that John could go anywhere, anywhere at all, and he’d have the most fantastic time, running and bringing justice, and she swears that she can see stars reflected in his eyes.

It’s the blue of the helmet. It’s the colour that flashes at the heart of a diamond, that creeps in at the edges of the sky as dawn approaches, that lurks in pictures of the swirling universe. It’s so much excitement, but just behind it there’s something else. Donna doesn’t know what to call it. Fear maybe? That little voice that grown-ups have telling them that there are consequences after the adrenalin rush has worn off and that consequences can hurt. That being able to go anywhere isn’t everything.

Maybe it’s just that John’s her little boy and she’s nowhere near ready to let him go yet, however fantastic anywhere might be.