Green Sweat Socks
AN: Very quick little piece, probably slightly too long to be a drabble, I wrote after watching SWAT, inspired by when Syd mentioned that Z has green sweat socks. ;)
Disclaimer: Don't own the characters. Not making any money.
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He caught the flash of familiarity under the legs of her training uniform before he really realised what he was seeing.
Green.
Bridge sat up on the floor of the gym, blinking sweat out of his eyes. "Hey, Z?"
"Hmm?" She was stretching, rubbing stiffening muscles, thoughts already turning to a hot shower and a hot dinner and bed for a few blissful hours. The end of another long hard workout at the end of another long hard day.
Bridge put his head on one side, "Nice sweat socks."
It took her a second, then she laughed. "You think?"
"Best ever," he nodded, firmly, "good colour of you. Should wear it more often."
"Oh yeah?" She pulled up the cuff, playfully flashing him her green-clad ankles, "you ever tried wearing yellow, green boy?"
"Sure," that was true. He liked yellow. Always had done. "I have yellow socks. And I know I have a yellow shirt somewhere." It was probably better not to tell her that the shirt resided under his pillow where it could remind him of her. "I like yellow."
"Really?"
"Yeah." Bridge grinned at her, "The sun is yellow. Bananas are yellow. Custard is yellow. Caramel is… sort of yellow. Well, it's not so much yellow as it is a sort of… goldy brown… but it's close enough. Oh, and you… are yellow."
Z smiled slightly, "what's not to like?"
"Exactly," Bridge folded his arms, trying not to look bashful.
Z bit her lip and looked down, examining her sweat socks. These awkward silences were cropping up more and more often around her lately, and it was starting to get worrying. Bridge was not the sort of person who had awkward silences. Mostly he just kept talking till someone told him to shut up. But then he made her smile, and suddenly there was nothing more to say.
"I'll… I'll see you at dinner, 'kay Bridge?" She asked him, swinging round to head for the door.
"Okay," Bridge struggled onto his feet, an old, familiar fuzzy weariness swamping his brain and body. He yawned, and smiled sleepily at her departing back. "I like green too," he told her, "green's good."
"Oh, sure," Z paused in the doorway, look back at him, "should wear more of it, you think?"
"Totally," Bridge nodded. Though it probably wouldn't be smart to tell her that he liked to see it on her because of the buzz it gave him. He yawned again.
Z laughed, and flashed him her ankles one more time before she left.