Title: Colour Plays

Summary: Meera and Donald discuss the finer points of nail polish one lazy afternoon at his apartment. Resslik ONE SHOT.

Disclaimer: The Blacklist and all things related are property of Jon Bokenkamp and NBC. If I owned it, the show would probably be a far better state than it is now.

Meera laid back against the headboard, a pillow behind her and another tucked behind her arm. Donald sat between her legs, back against her center while his arms were around her left leg.

"You do this often?" She asked, pressing the side of her leg against his arm. Meera watched his broad shoulders hitch in conjunction with his breath. "N-no, not really," He said. "I saw it in a movie once, thought I'd try it out."

"Hm, and here I thought you were being creative," Meera grinned.

"If I were being uncreative, I'd suggest we grab the clay and play some Righteous Brothers," At her groan, he twisted around slightly, careful of his leg, which was already cramping from being in one position too long. "Which color?"

"Deeva's always told me pink looks best on me," Meera commented, positioning her foot atop his thigh. "Pink?" Donald repeated. "I like blue."

"I like the pink," Meera said. He tried to focus on the shapely bottle in his hands instead of the mounting pressure between his legs as she messaged his thigh with her foot. "You keep that up, and I'm gonna get this done," He said in as even a tone as he could.

There was something about Meera's laugh that suggested she didn't care, but her foot ceased its motion altogether and returned next to him on the bed. Donald sat the blue bottle on pile that was his dress shirt, jacket and tie. Gripping the small shaft he twisted until he felt the top give away. The bottle opened without argument, his nose wrinkled at the smell. "This stuff stinks," He grumbled.

"It's not an easy job, being pretty," Meera yawned. Donald raised one eyebrow in doubt. Very carefully he pulled the brush from the bottle. He pressed it against the lip of the bottle before lowering it onto Meera's big toe. The nail polish pooled on her toe, he brushed it gently across the expense of the nail until he was sure it covered its entirety.

Clamping the top in his teeth, he used his fingers to smooth away the polish that pooled around her cuticle. Reaching up he removed the top from between his teeth. Leaning down, he puckered his lips and forced air from his mouth. Her foot flexed slightly at the touch of air moving across her skin. "Don't move," He said quietly.

Meera sighed, using her other leg to respond to his fingers against his skin. Donald bit the inside of his mouth when her foot pressed into his side. "If I mess up, your foot is gonna look a awful."

"Oh, you're far too steady for that," Meera countered. He leaned a little to the right; her leg slid downward, toes moving gently across his leg. "Meera," Her name came out as plead, laced in pleasure. Meera leaves her foot where it is, Donald was allowed to resume his work with only occasional interruptions from the left, when her toes scratched at his leg.

The smaller toes were harder to paint properly, the nail polish always threatened to run down her skin. The tips of his fingers and nails were practically pink now from trimming the excess pain away from her toes. Using the back of his hand he wiped his brow and sat her foot aside. All five toes were shimmering pink in the dull light of the rising afternoon. "One down one to go," He said to himself.

"You make it sound like such a chore, Ressler," Meera chuckled as he leaned back. "It's just five little toes and a paintbrush. I could always do it myself if you want me to." Ressler's head settled just on her navel. He screwed the top on the nail polish back on and sat it on the pile of close next to the blue bottle.

"What, you're not gonna do my other foot?"

"I'll do it later, I need a break from the smell," Donald sniffed.

"Lightweight," Meera teased.

"Whatever, I like my brain cells," He protested as she ran her fingers through his hair.

"I bet you'd look nice with blue fingernails," She laughed.

"I hope you're joking," He grumbled.

"Not at all, if you're interested, I can have Indra set you with your own bottle," Meera said. Donald snorted, trying to picture himself walking into work with blue nail polish shining on his fingernails. Elizabeth would never let him hear the end of it. He sat up and turned, gingerly moving his leg underneath him.

He favored his left leg as he crawled up toward her. Meera was careful not to smudge her toes as she moved her legs so that he could get closer. Arms braced on either side of her, he kissed her. "Not a chance, Meercat."

FIN.