Just a little drabbily one-shot with a dash of Tiva at the end.
Orange.
It was an important color in their lives.
Orange stained the walls of their second home. To any probie, it was a distracting quality of the office building, but over time, agents became acquainted with it, only giving a sly comment here and there in an attempt to draw a few chuckles. He really did hate it though; orange was never a favorite color of his, buit eventually, he learned to deal with it.
But no matter how much they complained about it, how much their eyes ached from staring at it too long, the color would be missed if it was gone. It separated them from the norm, as if they needed to be any less normal.
.
It was the color of her beanie, which had been worn less and less on winter days, and in a way, he missed it.
Wearing it reminded him that she was not the cold hearted assassin she had been when they first met. She had feelings, she loved, she missed, she hurt, and she wanted comfort.
It reminded him of the day her magnificent smile silently thanked him for the simple gesture of distracting the doctor. Her smile was worth it.
It always was.
For her, the orange hat reminded her of him, of his scent, of his smile, his eyes. The little time she spent with him that was just so worth it. Wearing it on her jog every morning kept him with her. She kept her spirits in her eight mile jogs, every morning wishing he could be next to her.
.
Orange was the color of his watch. The watch he had bought on a impulse, stumbling upon it in a small shop in Stillwater one day while visiting his father. Orange had always been Shannon's favorite color, Kelly had preferred pink, but what eight year old didn't?
She had called it hinky at first. But then, it became something different, a spontaneous splash of color on his otherwise consistent attire of a t-shirt, polo, and sports jacket. And then, it became part of his normal attire, always there for her to smile at it, and contemplate buying something like it. But it was his; it was his orange watch.
.
Even he needed a little more orange in his life. He complained about the walls, maybe more than the others, but really, it was a reminder after a long assignment that he was home. And had even let her buy Jethro an orange dog collar for Christmas.
.
And now he stands in front of the pure white walls, a rectangular brush of mint green, one of soft yellow, and another of light orange in front of him.
The crib and changing station are covered, he had refused to hire a professional, much to her discontent. But this was his baby, and he was determined to be the best dad he could be, and if that meant doing everything he could for the baby, then let it be.
She tiptoes into the room, but her extra weight sends a few creaks across the wooden floorboards. Reaching him, she wraps her arms around him, settling her head into his shoulder, feeling the tips of his gruff against her cheek.
Tony loves the feeling of the soft kicks of their baby against his back as she invades their nonexistent personal space.
Ziva kisses the bottom on his neck gently and her lips are still lingering on his shoulder as she speaks, her warm breath giving him goose bumps. "Have you picked out a color yet?"
He nods, slowly and confidently. "Yea."
She closes her eyes, a smile locked on her face as she waits for his decision to be heard.
"I think we should go with the yellow."
Because orange was work, orange was their walls, orange was Roy, orange was his watch, orange was hinky. Orange was not their baby.
And no matter how much he may sugar coat it,
He really did hate those damn orange walls.
I for one, love those damn orange walls.
But oh well, it's my story.
Review?
Favorite line would be cool beans.