Emerald Green

Chapter Nine

First Fight

Molly leaned against the railing of the TARDIS, watching as the Doctor tied new shoes onto his feet, her arms crossed against her chest. She was ready to be on both the defensive and the aggressive, but was trying to be better than that. Fighting against that instinct was difficult, especially as she waited for the Doctor to be the one to start speaking.

When the Doctor stood, he moved to the console, doing something on the other side she couldn't see. The silence stretched on and on, until she couldn't take it anymore.

She leaned over to look at the Doctor, but could only catch sight of an arm and a shoulder. "If you're trying to make me feel like a kid that's about to be grounded, it's not going to work." He leaned around to look at her. His gaze, while not cold, was certainly chilled. "Don't look at me like that. You don't intimidate me." A lie. And he probably knew it, too, given how well he'd intimidated her when she'd first arrived.

"You don't do that," he said, walking around the console to approach her.

"Do what?"

"Attack, unless you have no choice."

"They had you cornered."

"See, that's the other thing you don't do: put yourself at risk for me."

"No."

He sighed in frustration. "You don't get to just say no, you-"

Molly unfolded her arms and stood straight. She couldn't match his height, but at least she could match his stance. "No." She took two steps closer. Maybe looking confident would make her feel less sick over arguing with him. "You don't get to dictate to me what I can and cannot do with my own life. I'm not a child, Doctor. And I won't let you forbid me from doing anything you wouldn't do for me."

He took a step closer to her. "You have made it very clear that you can't be trusted to make those kinds of decisions on your own. You risked yourself, and you made things worse. It may have been that that whole race had to be killed before it even started."

She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. "I get it, okay? I made a bad call. I'm new to this, it's going to happen sometimes. I make mistakes, I make a lot of mistakes. But I don't make the same one twice." Unless it was fun, but she decided now wasn't the time for that comment.

"That was quite the mistake."

"It won't happen again."

"You're right, it won't," he said. His anger was no longer hidden beneath a cool expression. "Because you're not going to try to save me again, not without us formulating a plan first."

"Like there's ever time for that when your life is at risk!" Her voice was drier than she'd meant. "Look. Don't attack things unless my life is in danger, got it. But you can't just force me to be okay with you saving my life, but me having to sit around and twiddle my thumbs if you're in danger!"

"Molly-"

"I understand that no one has said this to you for a while, but Doctor, I mean it when I say no." The voice in the back of her mind told her that was definitely over some line or other, but that voice was probably her conscience or her common sense, and she tended to ignore those, anyway.

"I know what I'm doing, Molly. I'm not new to any of this. You are. You need to do as you're told."

Molly tried to fight back a laugh, and failed. "You know me. In which of our universes do you think that is ever gonna happen?" She paused. "We've known each other for about ten seconds, and we've known each other all our lives. We know each other better than most people know us. I'm willing to die for you, the same as I would happily die for any other friend." If she'd ever had one. "And I'm okay with that. You have to be, too."

There was a long pause, as she watched him bite the inside of his lip. "And if I'm not?"

Molly shrugged. "Then go drop me off on Earth somewhere. It's not like you chose me; it's not like you wanted me here anyway. Drop me off on Earth, and I'll figure it out until you can send me home. Because that's the only other option here. Accept that I'm going to risk my life for you if I need to, or get rid of me."

Her heart was pounding. This wasn't something she'd thought about saying, but really, what other option was there? She could stay, or go, but she wasn't going to compromise what few moral rules she had either way. The issue was, of course, that she had no connections in this universe. She didn't exist in this universe. So where was she going to live? How was she going to eat? What kind of job could she get without any record of her existence?

And, of course, there was another issue: she didn't want to leave him. Or the TARDIS.

She watched as the Doctor turned and walked away from her. He didn't seem to be going anywhere in particular, just trying to get some space from her while he thought through things. She wanted to push him to answer, to not leave her in this horrible space where she might be homeless and cut off from the only person she knew in the universe, torn away from their adventures so soon. But it wouldn't be fair for her to interrupt him now, and it might push him to make the decision she was dreading. She tried to calm herself instead. Phoebe, Heather, Olivia, Eleanor, Nina, Ivy, Xyla.

Finally, he turned towards her. "I never said I didn't want you here," he said slowly. "Do you really think I'd just abandon you on Earth, when you have nowhere to go?" He paused. "Do you want to leave?"

Molly didn't bother to resist the urge to roll her eyes. "No, of course not."

"Then how is it one moment you've decided we're friends, and the next you've decided that I don't want you here?"

An ache in her chest and a woosh of emotions hit her hard, unexpectedly. She had implied they were friends, she realized, and she also realized she very much wanted them to be. It had only been a couple days, but they had done so much together already, and as she'd said, they also knew so much about each other's lives. But did he? He'd just called her out on assuming it, so probably not. And it hurt. But it could also be that he just didn't want her making assumptions about him. That was fair.

There was only one way to find out. And when she wanted to know something, she didn't shy from whatever she had to do to get the information, no matter how humiliating it was to ask. "Well, are we friends?" Clearly, he hadn't been expecting that question. He frowned, and she saw the lines deepen across his forehead and around his eyes. As he stared, clearly surprised, maybe confused, she continued, "I know, I know, we haven't actually known each other that long. You can be honest about whether or not you think we are. You're not going to hurt my feelings." A lie. "I'm not going to cry or anything." Another lie.

Molly watched as he wrung his hands together. Was it a good sign, or a bad one? This felt worse than facing the space merpeople and the living robots. Her loneliness had broken from the box she kept it locked in and clung to her skin, exposing her nerves to the world. The breeze turning the wrong way would cause enormous pain. She needed a friend. A real friend. She'd never really had one before. And for most of her life, watching his faces move across a screen, she had wanted her real friend to be him.

He finally opened his mouth to speak. "Of course we are," he said, and Molly felt a rush of warmth. "I didn't know that was a question." The fight wasn't over yet, she knew, but she felt the moment they both set aside their defenses as he took a few steps forward and wrapped his arms around her. The warmth increased, maybe tenfold. A feeling of safety washed over her, something she wasn't overly familiar with. She wrapped her arms around him, holding tightly to the only real friend she'd ever had. She probably held on longer than she should have, but she wanted to memorize the experience of this platonic affection.

"Even though it's only been a couple days?" She could have slapped herself. Did she always have to try to find holes in every good thing that happened?

"Like you said," began the Doctor, pulling away now. "Our shows may not be entirely accurate, but they've still probably shown more about us than we've ever shown one person before. There are things we don't know about each other, but from what I've seen between the real you and the show you, most things are accurate. If my show goes back to when I knew Donna, then you've seen more of me than anyone else has." For a moment, he didn't seem comfortable with that. It was understandable; she wasn't very comfortable with someone knowing more about her then she maybe would have told them herself, either.

"And I don't really get to show most of myself to anyone, but I can, now," she said, turning to lean against the railing again. The realization dawned on her. "It's weird. Before I came here, I basically sent out a prayer to the universe that I could finally be completely myself. And here I am. You're the first person I can be my actual, fully true self since-"

"Since you changed your identity and moved to New York?" he asked, now coming to join her against the railing.

"Yeah." Molly pressed her lips together for a moment as she debated how much she was willing to say. "I couldn't talk about…anything to do with my past with anyone. I never got to hear anyone call me by my real name. I had to avoid people looking at me too long, in case somehow, they recognized me. Now I don't have to think so much before I do or say anything, I don't have to worry about people looking at me, or that someone will connect me to…" She let the sentence drift. She may be relieved to be herself, but there were still things she wasn't willing to let come to light. Not even for him. Especially not for him.

The Doctor looked thoughtful for a moment. "You asked the universe to give you the opportunity to be yourself, without fear of anyone knowing who you really were, about your past?"

"Essentially. Yeah."

"Anything else you asked it for?"

She hesitated. Some aspect of his voice told her this wasn't a casual inquiry. "Does it matter? It's not like the universe was listening."

"Who said it wasn't?"

Molly turned her head away from him, looking at the orange light moving up and down the console of the TARDIS. "Maybe in your universe that happens. Not in mine."

"And yet…here you are," he said softly, gesturing to her. "Exactly where you needed to be to in order to be yourself. So, what else did you ask for?"

She hated that he had a point. It hurt her head to think that maybe that little prayer had done this, somehow, that something in the universe could hear her and grant her that wish. "Just…" her mind reached back to that night. What else had she said? "I think just not to be alone. Some relief from the grief and the anger from the grief. But mostly it was just…being able to be myself finally, without fear."

He was quiet for a moment. She looked to him, and saw that look again, the one that told her his mind was racing so fast and far ahead of hers that she likely wouldn't fully understand his thoughts, even if he'd said them aloud. "And here you landed. On the TARDIS. With me. Someone you had watched on television for years. That you were familiar with. That was familiar with you."

Molly stared a moment longer. "What are you thinking?"

"I don't know yet," he said, his voice distant. But a moment later, he cleared his throat, and turned back to her. "But you were right. You were sent here for a reason. Whatever reason that is, it's clearly important. Which is why you can't risk yourself anymore."

She rolled her eyes again. "Have we been here before? I think I recognize that tree."

"We do seem to be going in circles, yes."

"So we're at an impasse."

"It would appear so."

Molly said, "Look. It is etched into my mind, into my heart, into my soul. I can help others. They can't help me. I cannot accept anyone's help." She turned her body towards him a little. "But I have to accept your help. I don't have a choice. So as long as you're going to help me, you have to understand that I will stop at nothing to help you. No matter the cost. I have to."

There was no response for a time, just his body position changing to mirror hers: Leaned back against the railing, body turned a little toward her, arms folded, one leg slightly out, and looking into her eyes. As she was learning, reading his gaze was nearly impossible most of the time, at least, if he didn't want to be read. So instead, for once, she opened up herself to being read: she didn't hide how earnestly she meant it. That accepting help was one of the most difficult things in the world for her, that having to accept his was painful, that no matter what she was going to do whatever it took to keep him safe in return.

The tenseness of his shoulders slacked, and for a moment, he looked defeated. "I know something happened to make you feel this way," he said, finally. He paused, and when he spoke again his voice was near a whisper. "Something happened to you when you were thirteen. What was it?"

Now it was her shoulders that tensed, her whole body that tensed, in a way that made her feel she was collapsing in on herself. "It's a long story. I don't want to get into it."

"Something," the Doctor argued gently, "Just give me something. Some context to help me understand."

Molly pursed her lips together. What could she possibly give him to explain this that wasn't incriminating? Finally, she settled on the surrounding cause, rather than the root of it. "I loved my parents," she began. "And they took good care of me. But they also never shielded me from anything. Their marriage issues were front and center with all out screaming fights, our financial problems discussed with me sitting at the dinner table with them, including their fears of losing the house. If I struggled in my schoolwork, I had to figure it out on my own. If I was bullied at school, well, it'd make me stronger, so I could protect myself and be more self-sufficient. I was told not to whine. I was trained to not ask for help. Instead, I took on the role of helping others. If I couldn't ask for help, then I would do my best to give it." She swallowed. She didn't want to say these next words, but they were what he was looking for. But she couldn't look in his eyes as she said them, so she stared down at his new shoes. "Then, one day, at thirteen, when someone needed my help, I turned away. I ran. All they could do was watch me run. When it counted, when it mattered the most, I abandoned them." She closed her eyes and felt the tears fall down her cheeks, and sighed. She needed to keep talking, to avoid falling into that red hot pit of memory, but she knew she needed to make eye contact with him in order to say what she needed to say next. Getting the nerve to look him in the eye again was difficult, to say the least. Every part of her soul begged her not to. She didn't want to see his disappointment in her, not again, not like this.

But Molly took a deep breath, tilted her head up, and forced her eyes to look into his. Instead of judgement, she found understanding. She should have known better. He thought she wasn't that person anymore, the one who ran from someone who needed her help so desperately, and that was what counted to him. She wished it counted to her. She wished she believed she wasn't that person. He was less harsh a judge than she was. "Anyway," she started, using the filler word to borrow time as she tried to organize her mess of a head. "Since then, if someone needs my help, I help them. No questions asked. It doesn't matter what it might cost me. I don't have that much left to lose, anyway. I'll spend all my life making up for that time I ran away, and I'm happy to do it. And I won't stop doing it. Because if I refuse, I fail them all over again."

The Doctor turned from her some, looking down as he seemed to process what she'd told him, what little she had actually told him. While her instinct told her to watch his expression, she instead turned to watch the lights of the TARDIS again. For once, she didn't want to know what he was thinking.

It wasn't long before, out of the corner of her eye, she saw him turn back to her. "You took on the responsibility of saving the world before you were even an adult."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Including saving yourself."

She shrugged, her hands bracing herself on the railing behind her. "I had to. No one else was going to." Molly paused, uncertain if she should continue speaking her train of thought, but decided against caution, as she usually did. He was her friend – she was going to talk to him like he was. "I guess that's partially why I liked the show so much. Nearly everyone on the show fought so hard to protect each other. Especially you. You would move heaven and Earth to protect the people you cared about. Watching that was as close as I could get to experiencing that. I never had anyone to protect me."

A moment passed, and then she felt the cool sensation of his hand moving to cover hers. "Now you do."

It was almost like being hit with a wall of hurricane-level winds, but also like a pot of water bubbling over, but also like a part of her soul being fused back together. Protected. The one thing she had never believed she would be. And protected by her friend, the Doctor. It was overwhelming, to say the very least. And while part of her fought to say that she didn't need it, didn't want it, couldn't accept his help any further – she was relieved to find she was strong enough to hold that back. The Doctor – her Doctor – was going to protect her.

Less than a conscious decision, and more like a string attached to her heart pulling her over to him, she stood on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. For a moment, she could have sworn he blushed, but that second disappeared when he looked over at her with a small smile. He reached out with his hand and mussed her hair a little. "So," he said, "Our first fight."

"Yeah."

"I don't like it."

"Me, neither."

"Are we done with it now?"

"Yes, please."

"Excellent," replied the Doctor, moving away from the railing now. "Because I'd really like some lunch. I'm thinking ancient Egyptian, what do you say?"

She watched as he headed towards the console. "Doctor," she said, stopping him.

He seemed to know what she was going to say, in the way his body paused and tensed. He turned back to her. "Molly."

"Are we actually done with the fight, or just hitting pause? I'm still not going to stop doing what I can to save you if I have to, and you're still not okay with it."

"No, I'm not," he replied. "But I guess I don't have a choice."

Molly managed to convince her body to shrug as though she didn't care. "I mean, you still do. You can still drop me off on Earth."

"No," he said gently, shaking his head. "I can't." The slight squinting of his eyes and upturn of a corner of his mouth told her it was because he wouldn't abandon his friend.

Molly smiled. "Okay. So. Ancient Egyptian lunch it is."

The Doctor decided they should jump ahead a couple decades. He usually didn't stick around to see the aftermath of what he'd done, but they hadn't really had a chance to explore. They walked through another, smaller outdoor market, a few short buildings, and various statues that were replicas of ones found in Egypt. They stopped to look at a few stalls as they navigated their way down the street, with the Doctor narrating about the history of the planet.

"And then about five hundred years after that, they started going to Earth and transporting various landmarks, dismantling quite a few and rebuilding them here, which was actually protested, as it undid the integrity of-" He paused, and suddenly span in a circle a couple of times. He spotted her, and frowned. "Hey! Don't wander off! That's rule number one."

"You don't wander off," replied Molly. "You're the one that took off running without a word earlier."

"Yeah, well, I'm allowed."

Molly frowned. "I thought rule one was that the Doctor lies?"

"Rule one is that the rules go in whatever order I say they go in."

They made their way out of the market, and then the Doctor spotted the place he'd wanted to take her. Down the street from the restaurant the Doctor had chosen, she could see a pyramid.

They sat and ordered lunch (a sort of stir-fry with beans, leeks, peas, garlic, and radishes, with a side of duck and some kind of flat bread, and watermelon for dessert. She'd traded her duck for the Doctor's vegetables when he made a face at them), and talked about how things had changed in twenty years. Not much, really, except in the distance were sounds of machinery; the robots they had saved, now called Mechanas, were practicing in an arena. They loved to play soccer, and the people of Earth 2.0 loved to watch. The Doctor talked about catching the game later that night.

"Football, played by giant robots," he said excitedly. "I haven't seen that in a few regenerations."

"Does that happen a lot?" Molly asked, taking a sip of her beer, and immediately setting it as far from her as possible. She'd always been a liquor kind of woman.

"Well, everything happens at least once. Actually, the average is sixteen and a half times," he replied. "Don't ask about the half. It's usually not very pretty."

She couldn't help but giggle at that. "I'll take your word for it." As rude as it was generally seen, she couldn't help but fold her legs under her in the chair. Sitting normally was always a bit uncomfortable. "So, are we planning on sightseeing after this?"

"Yes! Sightseeing. Just plain, regular, touristy sightseeing."

"No invasion of the giant robots?"

"Hopefully not," he replied, though his tone implied a lack of actual hope on his part. "We'll just wander about. Don't get to do that very often, wandering about."

She stared at him a moment. "…You're going to be really bored in about twenty minutes, aren't you?"

"No, no!" He objected, but then, "Well, yes, probably. But this trip isn't about me. You wanted to see everywhere, so here we are. Don't worry about me. It'll be fun showing you around, anyway."

Molly tilted her head as she considered him. "Okay. Let's at least make it interesting."

The Doctor seemed intrigued. "How so?"

"Got any paper and pen in your pocket?"

He reached in and retrieved a notepad and pen, similar to one she thought she'd seen him use when pretending to be a detective. She flipped to a page, and began drawing a few smaller squares inside a larger one. "We'll make a couple Bingo boards, filled with places, objects, situations, whatever, that we might encounter while we're here. When we're done, whoever has the most bingos wins."

He looked even more interested, leaning forward to watch her finish making the board. "And the prize?"

"Other than bragging rights?" She thought for a moment. "The other has to buy them a gift they'll like. I mean, it'll have to be your money, but it's the thought that counts."

The Doctor smiled. "You're on." He pulled out another pen, reached across to her and grabbed a piece of paper, and began making his own grid. "We'll make sure to mix ours up a bit, but what goes on it?"

"I don't know. You're the one who has been here before. What do you think?" She paused. "Although there are some things you can find anywhere. One of them should be a tourist in a Hawaiian shirt. There has to be. I don't care where in time and space, there always is."

"Right you are!" said the Doctor, and he jotted it down. "Hawaiian shirt. Or socks with sandals."

"Deal," she agreed. "What's square two?"

The Doctor looked thoughtful. "An Adipose. They seem to be everywhere now."

Molly wrote it in the next square over. "Ood, too. But we should add something more specific."

"Ood buying shoes," the Doctor supplied. That was the next square.

"What next?"

"Kissing," said the Doctor, with almost a note of distaste. "Someone's always kissing."

She wrote 'kissing' in. "There are a bunch of little sections for various countries, right? I know it's mostly mixed up here, but…"

"Yeah."

"Okay. How about a country, then? India?"

"First to spot India," said the Doctor, writing it in. "Fair enough. I don't remember where India is."

They spent the rest of their lunch filling in the little boxes with landmarks, people, situations. It didn't take long to finish the Bingo card, and after finishing off his grape juice, they were off.

He first led her down the street, headed for the pyramid. It was about three minutes before Molly pulled her Bingo card out of her pocket and marked it.

"What?" the Doctor wondered, turning around. "What did you see?"

"If I tell you, you'll get it, too," replied Molly.

"That's not very nice of you."

Molly shrugged. "I'm not a nice person." But after a moment, she couldn't resist. "Two o clock, couple arguing over a map."

The Doctor smiled and checked it off his card. "Ah, see? You are nice."

"Don't accuse me of that. It's not very nice of you."

The rest of the day sped by. They did tours of the pyramid, and an art gallery, and a palace Molly couldn't remember the name of but she was pretty sure was from Iraq. The Bingo cards got fuller and fuller as they spotted things – an "antique" vase with a crack that was clearly made recently, someone shouting 'I'm walking here!', an Asian bakery beside an African gift shop – and sometimes shared with each other, sometimes not. By the time the sun had set, Molly had seen more places and things of the past and future, and more of Earth, than she could count, and her Bingo card had four bingos on it. The Doctor's, however, was completely full. She tried to drown out his declaration of 'Hah, I win!' with the sounds of the massive city, but couldn't ignore the laugh that accompanied it.

He handed her some of the currency and explained what they were, then went to wait for her at a café for a light dinner before the soccer match. Molly explored the World Market alone, feeling a little overwhelmed, but less fearful than she would have been trying to navigate it that morning. There were piles and piles of options, and looking through them, Molly really felt the test of how well she knew the Doctor. But when her eyes landed on a particular stall, she smiled. She knew exactly what to get him.

She arrived at the café with a tall gift box wrapped in a sparkling golden paper, and found him seated outside, the table set with what seemed to be various types of tea from different cultures. She sat down across from him, and set the box on the table.

"Ah, my victory prize," The Doctor said, reaching for it. She poured herself a cup of jasmine tea as she watched him tear the paper like a seven-year-old boy on his birthday, and take the lid off the box. His face lit up as he looked at her with a smile, and as he reached into the box, her smile was probably wider than his.

He turned it around in his hands with an excited look. "A fez," he said happily. "A TARDIS blue fez. How did you find it?"

"Tap the top," she suggested.

He looked at her confused for a moment, and then tapped the top of the fez. It changed to a bright amethyst purple. The Doctor laughed with delight, and touched it again. It became a dark emerald green. He quickly set it on his head. "The fez of many colors," he laughed.

"I was thinking it's like the horse of a different color from Wizard of Oz."

"It's perfect!" He reached up and adjusted the fez so it sat more firmly on his head. "Thank you."

Molly sipped her tea. "I saw you had a fez under glass in the wardrobe, but I figured you don't wear it that often."

"Yeah, River kept shooting my hats. I didn't want it to become a habit for anyone else." He took it off and tapped the top again, an amused smile on his face as it turned canary yellow. "I might need to get a glass case to keep this one safe, too. Except it's going to be so much fun to wear. It'll match anything."

"I'm really glad you like it," she said. She touched the clear screen set on the side of the table like a paper containing drink specials would be back home, and a menu appeared. "Wow, you really did order every tea option."

"I wasn't sure what you were in the mood for," said the Doctor. "I did stop and get you a consolation prize, though. Couldn't help myself."

The Doctor leaned over and reached under the table, and then set a large, flat white box between them. She accepted it with a smile.

"Thanks, that was sweet of you," she said as she started taking the lid off. "What is it?"

"Open it," the Doctor encouraged, knocking on the table. "And you'll see. That's the point of the box."

She took the lid off and set it beside her chair, on the ground. There was faintly opalescent tissue paper covering whatever it was he'd gotten her. She carefully shifted it aside, and revealed something white and blue and pink and sparkling.

Molly looked up at the Doctor, as he sat there with a self-satisfied smile, certain he'd gotten her something she would love. And as she pulled the costume from the box, she knew he was right to be confident.

A pretty, long and layered white skirt of some soft, flowing tulle, or at least something like it, with two lines of blue ribbon wrapping around near the bottom. A tiny, lacy apron at the top of the skirt. A white bodice, with a false blue Medieval stay, embroidered pink flowers decorating the edges. The whole thing sparkled in a way that reminded her of the diamonds across the Polychrome nebula, but subtler.

In her hands she was holding the costume for Giselle in Act One, she was sure of it. She looked at the Doctor again, this time in wonder.

"It's from the revival," the Doctor explained. "Actually, the forty-eighth revival. The first ever performance of Giselle on Earth 2.0."

She looked over to him in shock. "Giselle survives this long?"

"And much longer." His words made her feel elated, as though she found out a beloved pet had lived this long, though the closest she'd ever had to a beloved pet had been Henrietta (may she rest in peace).

She stared at the costume a moment longer, turning it and watching it sparkle in the lamplight, before carefully, gently setting it back inside it's box, wrapping it in paper, and putting the lid back on before setting it beside her.

Molly looked back up at him with another smile, and stood and leaned over the table, careful to avoid knocking over any of the numerous tea pots, and kissed him on the cheek again. She ignored the wipe of his hand over the cheek, and the pressing of his lips together. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he said warmly.

As she listened to the sound of the Mechanas warming up in the stadium a few blocks away, she felt another kind of elation. She may have screwed up, but they were out there now, decades later, happy and free and playing.

"What are you thinking about?" the Doctor asked, and Molly realized she'd had a sort of dreamy smile on her mouth.

"They're alive. The Mechanas, I mean. They're still out there, and they're free."

"Yeah."

She closed her eyes and listened again. She could almost hear a clicking sound echoing by that sounded like laughter. Laughing in response, she looked at the Doctor again. "Does it always feel like this?"

The Doctor grinned. "Always."

Author's Note: I did SO much research to figure out if a fez any color but burgundy might be disrespectful. I could not find ANYTHING mentioning other colors. I spent a long, long time looking for an answer before I was finally about to give up and used image search for 'blue fez', 'green fez', 'yellow 'fez', and they existed in all the colors, so I'm hoping it's not disrespectful. If anyone has a clear answer and the answer is 'yes, it is disrespectful', please let me know and I will change it. Thanks!