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In the Pink
One-Shot
by Appearing Dream
Pink. Why in the hell were they pink?
Heero glared broodingly into the washer at the sopping wet mass of light pink clothing within. They shouldn't be pink, could not possibly be pink. He had taken care to sort the laundry beforehand, as he always did, so there was no way these clothes could be pink.
And yet they mocked him with their pinkness.
Heero preferred to do his laundry himself—at least, the clothing that made up his Preventer uniforms. He could not allow them to fall into disrepair or be damaged by mishandling by the laundry staff. Lives depended on his ability to move freely, and he firmly believed that in order for his uniform to be up to his standards, he needed to do it himself.
Heero growled and plunged his hands into the former blazingly white clothing and began to haul them from the washer, dumping each article onto the floor as he searched irritably for whatever culprit had turned his nice undershirts and Preventer dress shirts such a horrid color.
A flash of crimson had him leaning his body nearly halfway into the washer's depths as Heero suddenly dove for his evasive quarry. His right hand closed around something incredibly fluffy and furry, even in its sodden state.
"Heero?"
Heero jerked up out of the washer in rapid alarm and banged his head on the shelf over the washer and dryer. Cursing, he reached to rub the area and squinted in the direction of the voice, which was now providing soft giggling.
Relena stood there, dressed simply in white shorts and loose gray t-shirt, her long hair pulled back into a low ponytail. Her eyes were alight with amusement as she gazed at her husband. "I thought you were only going to be a minute?"
Heero looked down at the object in his hand. Relena's sock. More specifically, Relena's long, furry scarlet sock that she liked to wear at bedtime because her feet got cold. "I thought so, too. Relena, how did this sock end up in my whites?"
Relena's eyes flicked to the dripping mass of clothes on sitting in the floor by Heero's bare feet. A puddle was beginning to form. "I'm not sure. I remember putting them in the hamper. Perhaps you picked it up when you were sorting clothes?"
Heero's face hardened. "Impossible."
Relena sighed. "It is too possible, Heero. You are capable of mistakes sometimes, even small ones like this."
"This is not small! My clothes are pink and your sock did it!" Heero gestured to the pink clothing, his hand nearly strangled the sock as he did so.
"Put them in some diluted bleach, Heero, and come back outside." She turned to go, then added, "Duo is insisting he can spike the ball harder than you can and Quatre is insisting we pick teams fairly. You may want to be there if you want to play."
Heero felt the heat of competition rise in him as he watched her go. Duo would not, could not ever, beat him.
Heero didn't think he could stand the shame.
So he would play and he would enjoy the added bonus of watching Relena having a good time with their friends. Yes, their friends, he realized. She was still doing things to him.
He turned to shove all the clothes back into the washer, sans the stupid sock, and turned the washer back. Heero carefully measured out some bleach and added it to the full washer. He let the agitator jerk the clothes for a minute to mix the water and then shut the washer off. The lid clanked shut and Heero hoped his clothes would be white gain the next time he saw them, which, he knew, would be several hours from now. Possibly even tomorrow, if Relena's good mood carried into the night.
Heero stepped out of the laundry room and exited the house, spotting everyone gathered at the sandy volleyball court. Relena's cheeks were flushed a happy pink as she conversed with Hilde and she turned her glowing eyes on him.
Pink was a good color.