Author's Note: These are so much fun! I was working on Cliff's chapter, but inspiration struck me during one of my art studio classes. Therefore, this one-shot is dedicated to the doctor of Mineral Town, who for sake of all intents and purposes, will be going by Tim. Enjoy the family fluffiness!

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No White

White walls, white tiles, white furniture, and white coat. It seemed as though his entire life had become nothing more than an endless white space where he was the only alternate variation, black. He wasn't a solemn man by nature; he was simply being professional. As a doctor, he had to offer a reliable service to his patients, and that left little room for childishness. Even on his days off, which it just happened to be, he found himself hard at work sorting his medical files.

"Doctor Timothy, I presume?" a young woman's voice rang through the silence, following a warm spring breeze which stirred the distinctly chilled air. He glanced up from his papers to see a striking blonde set right on the edge of his desk, one hand planted in the middle of his files and a smirk plastered on her impish face. She gave him a wink, a flash of her brilliant blue eyes directed at him.

"Claire?" he asked, then looked down to see the face of a little raven-haired girl in a white dress trimmed in lace peeking over the ledge with her small hand loosely gripping the farmer's calloused one. "Does Serenity need a check-up?"

The young mother gave him a blank look before smiling pleasantly at him. "Don't you remember, Tim? I asked you to look after her today."

"Oh, yes..." he agreed, thinking back for a moment before asking, "Why was it again?"

"I need Saibara to upgrade my hoe, but I need to go to the mines to get the ore for the job. You know I can't take our little girl in there."

"You shouldn't be going there either at the moment," he reminded her, motioning to the slight bulge of her lower torso. "It's not good for the fetus. And what if you happen to pass out?" he added with sharp concern.

She scoffed, waving away his implications, "I'm more than capable of handling it, honey. Besides, I know how far I can push myself after one go around with pregnancy."

"Can't you ask Gray to fetch it for you?" the man pressed further, relying on his tone he often used on stubborn patients. There were advantages to being a doctor when concerning marital disputes such as this.

"No, that'd be more trouble than it's worth. I'm sure me getting stressed out while trying to convince that surly blacksmith's apprentice to fetch the ore for my upgrade isn't going to fare any better for our baby," she added sternly.

"But-"

"Timothy Lee Trent, I will be going to the mines today, and you will be watching Serenity until I get back here," his wife finalized firmly. Then, flashing a smile at her rather terrified daughter, the young farmer left the blinding white clinic.

Once she had slammed the door behind her, the doctor gave a heavy sigh. Claire certainly had a temper when she chose to use it. Though it had been infrequent throughout their courtship and early marriage, she became a rather short fuse when with child. He had gone through it all the first time, and he couldn't say he was looking forward to a second round. Still, he thought as he glanced over at his daughter, I suppose it was more than worth tolerating the occasional mood sings and tantrums.

"Serenity, it's all right now," he assured her, making his way around the desk. The child's blue eyes widened as he came closer, and although he was hurt at first, he almost instantly came to remember. Sliding out of the white doctor's coat, Tim smiled understandingly. "There we go," he cooed as she toddled over to him, no longer afraid of the strange piece of clothing that disguised her father.

His little girl never recognized him as a doctor since he had made it a point not to bring his work home. Even he had to admit he was a different man when he came home to the family's farm. Gazing over the colorful, abundant crop fields and pristine green pasture certainly had a healing effect all its own on the overworked young practitioner, but it was his wife and daughter that truly made the large farmhouse a home.

"I honestly don't know how she expects me to watch you while she's away. I still have work to do..." he thought aloud while Serenity gave him a curious look. Her father seemed so strange here. He didn't smile like he did at home, and he didn't sound the same. At home, she remembered him making jokes that, although she didn't understand them, made her mother turn all red one moment and laugh the next. Here, he simply wasn't the same.

Maybe it was because of all the white that made him act this way? If that was the case, why didn't he make it a different color?

Tim kept a tender eye on the thoughtful child in his arms. Although she was three years old and more than capable of talking, she chose to remain rather quiet. Even at home she barely uttered more than a couple polite requests, and if he was lucky enough, he sometimes would hear her whisper "I love you" to either himself or his wife. She was a precious girl, though, whether she chose to speak or not. He adored her all the same.

"Now," he said softly, revealing a coloring book and crayons from behind his nurse's desk, "you can color until Father's ready to go." She gently took the small gift and nodded without a word. Auntie Elli had bought them for her should the girl find herself in the clinic with very few choices to entertain herself, and although Serenity was grateful for the lady's kindness, she found coloring to be frustrating.

With all those neat lines, the poor child was afraid to stray from their boundaries. Her parents were more than happy to praise her hard work, but she had come to hate coloring because of her need to keep the colors where they were supposed to be. The lines... she felt she had to keep her colors inside, and that was no fun at all. Still, she gave her father a sweet smile, just to see him softly smile back.

"Good girl," he patted her dark locks. Her cheeks were tinted a light shade of rose as she remembered her friend Stu doing the very same thing. With the young boy's black hair, Serenity could only imagine he'd look just like her father when he grew up. Even Auntie Elli had said that at one time. She loved her father, and she liked Stu well enough which meant she may one day love him, she supposed. Of course, her three year old thoughts hadn't sorted this all out yet, but her cheeks were warm all the same.

However, she certainly hoped Stu wouldn't wear white. If he did, she wouldn't be able to love him. When her father wore that white coat, she didn't love him anymore, either. And she certainly didn't love this place, surrounding in nothing but white. Maybe that's why she didn't like her coloring book? After all, it was white, too, until she added the right amount of crayon...

Tim worked steadily at his desk while trying to be reasonably quick about it. Although he knew the importance of proper documentation in the medial field, he was also aware of his duties as a parent. He had been decidedly self-aware of the dual roles he had to act, both vitally valuable. There was an obvious dedication to his patients and their needs, but he knew the great influence he needed over his daughter. Children, especially at such a young age, were impressionable. He knew all too well what absent-minded neglect in leu of work could do to a child psychologically. This, of course, could also lead into adulthood.

After all, he had experienced it firsthand.

In a couple hours time, the doctor was finished. He had plowed through every file, every record, and every note while never once having to check on Serenity. She was a good girl, and there was no worry of her causing any trouble. Quiet, gentle, and understanding enough for her age, she was the perfect daughter. There was no possible way she could ever misbehave.

Of course, this thought was short-lived as he rounded the corner of his office into the lobby...

"Serenity!" he gasped, his freshly organized files spilling out onto the floor like a waterfall of white at his feet.

There, her blue eyes filled with surprise, the young girl sat on the white tile with a her crayons scattered around her. All along the wall she had drawn a beautiful array of fabulous squiggles and lines leading nowhere in brilliants hues of reds, blues, greens, and everything in between. Since her father hadn't moved from the spot, his face in a perpetual gape as a few more slips of paper drifted helplessly to the floor, his daughter simply came to his side and tugged on his sleeve.

She gazed up at him lovingly and smiled before explaining, "No white..."

--

Claire hurried to the clinic, covered in the grime of slaving away in the mines. If she hadn't brought her Bodigizer and Turbojolt with her, her husband would've gone into his "Doctor-Mode" for certain. He constantly fretted over her stamina and fatigue levels, especially while she was expecting. Sometimes she worried that the man took life far too seriously. Couldn't he enjoy life for once?

While she thought on this, she opened the white door leading to what she had no reason to assume would be anything more inspiring inside the unassuming white building. She made her way straight for his office, only to find that, curiously, he wasn't at his desk. "Tim, I'm back. How was-"

Just as she rounded the corner, coming into the waiting room, she saw it. A vibrant mural done in thick paint covered the wall across from her. The scene depicted was all to familiar, yet she do nothing but gape at its representation on the make-shift canvas. It was a farm with sheep and cows grazing in the pasture while the fields were bursting with vegetables of all varieties. However, what truly caught her eye was her husband and child busy at work on the family portrait at the other end.

She simply couldn't recognize him in his new coat. No longer was she blinded by a starch white flash of fabric she had come to know, for it was just as brilliant as the wall which he was lifting their daughter to in order for her to paint a smile on her "mother's" face. There were blues, reds, greens, and everything in between slathered onto the cloth. Claire was nothing short of shocked as she stood in the doorway, trying to form a coherent sentence.

"Wha-what is..."

"Oh, hello, Honey. What do you think?" Tim turned and asked her, placing Serenity onto the newspaper covered floor. The little girl tip-toed hurriedly over to her mother and took the young woman's hand, leading her back to the splendid painting.

Claire glanced down at her daughter in her equally decorative dress, who smiled proudly at her and her father's masterpiece. The mother had never see her so pleased with herself before. "No white," she told her matter-of-factly.

"I think it's an improvement myself," the doctor boasted, a satisfied smile on his face. It was something his wife had never once seen in all four years of being married to the man. He looked so... childish.

"You're absolutely right," she agreed, holding him close, absent-mindedly hoping the paint on his coat had dried by now. Her smile only broadened as she gazed up at her husband tenderly, and she knelt to kiss Serenity gently on the head. Then she looked back at their image. "Our family's a lot happier in color, isn't it?"

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Final Author's Note: A friend of mine confessed that the only reason she hates hospitals is because everything is white, and I thought it'd be cute to see the doctor and his daughter trying to find a "remedy" for such a problem. I think their prescription cured the clinic's illness quite well. XD