A/N: I'm very saddened by the lack of Shelke fics/art out there, so I am going to try and do 100 Shelke drabbles for fellow fans who are suffering from a lack of Shelke. I hope that you will enjoy them all. This one is for the theme Blue.

Disclaimer: Owns nothing

Her Color

For some reason she found herself pulling it out from the lower dresser drawer where it had been hidden since she had taken it off. She hadn't had the heart to throw it out, even though she planned on never wearing it again. It was a part of her life, and like it or not, she couldn't rid herself of that by simply throwing out an outfit.

The cloth was cool beneath her fingertips, and she sat down on the edge of her bed, staring at the little bundle in her lap. She'd been so proud when she had been gifted with these clothes, so proud that she had been accepted into the highest ranks of Deepground. Electric blue, the color of her eyes, the tint to the light that emitted from her beloved computer screens, and the color that glowed even in the darkest depths of Midgar's underground.

Her lips thinned and she roughly shoved the folded clothing back into the drawer, slamming it closed with a loud thunk. It was a color she was now ashamed of.

"Shelke, is everything alright?" Tifa's voice called out from downstairs.

"Fine," she responded automatically. "Everything's fine."

"Could you come down for a moment?"

Rising she left her small dark room to descend the steps, pausing as she surveyed the scene below her. Tifa was arm deep in soap suds, scrubbing dirty dishes while Marlene stood on a stool beside her, rinsing. The large and burly Barret sat at the counter with Denzel, teaching the young boy about his oil business, something that Shelke wouldn't have thought interesting to a young boy.

She hesitated, feeling like a stranger intruding upon this family's time together. She really should speak to Vincent or Reeve about finding another place to live, a place where she didn't feel as if she were in the way all the time.

Tifa swept her dark hair out of her eyes and glanced up, seeing the slender girl standing there. "Ah, there you are Shelke," she greeted her warmly, smiling brightly. "Would you mind helping Cid? He's been trying to fix Cloud's computer in the back for hours, but he can't seem to get it going. I'm afraid he's going to start stabbing it with his spear any moment," she sighed.

Shelke blinked, startled, but nodded, going to the room from which a stream of steady curse words was emitting. Tenatively she popped her head into the room, staring at the blond pilot.

"Blasted ($!# computer!!" he roared, slamming his hand against the keyboard and kicking the modem. "What the hell did Spike do to ya?!"

Clearing her throat, the slight girl took several steps into the room. "Excuse me, Cid?"

"Eh? Oh, hey Shelke! Sorry, don't have time to chat- trying to fix this hunk of metal so I can get home to Shera sometime this century."

Suppressing a strange urge to laugh, she moved closer. "May I?"

Cid blinked at her but stood, gesturing to the empty seat. "Be my guest!"

She seated herself in the chair easily, her fingers flying across the keyboard, her pale face bathed in the soft blue glow from the screen. In less than five minutes the computer screen cleared, back to normal.

"Yer amazin', kid," Cid declared. "Ya got a gift."

He mussed her hair affectionately and she frowned slightly at treatment. Before she could address the issue though, he was speaking again, eyeing her clothing with a critical eye.

"What the hell are ya wearing?"

She blinked, staring down at the bright pink shirt. "This?" she inquired, plucking at it, surprised that she was talking fashion with a crusty old airship pilot. "Tifa gave it to me. She said I shouldn't have to wear the same uniform every day, especially one connected to a horrid past."

"Maybe so," the man said gruffly. "But I think you'd look better in another color. Only ever seen one woman who could pull off pink and not look ridiculous. Sorry kid, but it really isn't you."

"I'm not offended," she began, but he was already off and going again.

"I think ya look good in blue- that electric blue, as Shera would call it. We should take you clothes shopping, girl! Whaddya say?"

"You go clothes shopping?" she inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, not me, personally. Shera would, though. Maybe you should get Yuffie and Tifa to come too, make a girl's day out of it!" Cid clapped her on the shoulder, before grabbing her small hand and dragging her out into the main room of the bar, already talking rapidly to Tifa about his plan.

"Didn't know you were such a fashion plate, Cid," Tifa teased him. "But I admit, you're right. Blue matches her eyes."

"That settles it then! Shopping trip for the ladies!" he boomed. "Outta get Shera off my case about my smokin'!"

"Are you paying for it then?" Tifa inquired, folding her arms.

"Wha?!" he yelped. "You outta your mind, Tif? No way!"

She stared between the two as they started arguing over the matter, waiting for a brief lull to speak. "Don't I get a say in this?" Shelke inquired.

"No," both adults shot at her before going back to the conversation.

Rolling her eyes, Shelke sat down in the stool, propping her chin in her hands. "I don't want to go shopping. . . this is ridiculous. What if I like wearing pink?"

"Don't say that," Barret grumbled, glancing up from his conversation with Denzel. "Otherwise you'll end up wearin' it fer the rest of yer life. Sides, you're a smart girl- ya outta know that color clashes with yer hair."

"What, you're a fashion expert now too?" she asked.

Barret ignored her, and she sighed, returning her attention back to the argument. Secretly though, she was pleased that the others were so concerned about her. And even more. . .she was glad that her favorite color wasn't something that she had to be ashamed of.