A/N: Wow, its been a while since I've written anything for this movie. Or much of anything at all for that matter. Super short, but I love it anyway. Hope you guys do too!

Chapter 7: Colors

Sherman had been quietly coloring in one of the coloring books Mr. Peabody had bought for him for some time now. However, all of a sudden, he frowned severely at the pages and threw his crayon down with a little cry of frustration.

"Sherman?" Mr. Peabody asked, looking up from his laptop, seated in his usual chair. He watched the crayon roll lazily across the floor before turning his eyes back to his boy and asking, "What's the matter?"

"I can't color inside the lines," Sherman complained petulantly.

Peabody glanced at a nearby clock. It was almost Sherman's bedtime, which partially explained his grumpy state.

The dog smiled down at his boy. "You'll get it eventually. No need to be upset."

Sherman looked back at his coloring book and frowned again, albeit a little less harshly.

"But, if I don't do it right, it looks stupid," he protested.

Inwardly, Mr. Peabody chuckled. If only all life's problems could be so simple. Nevertheless, he wouldn't ignore his boy's woes.

"Well, you know," he said, going to pick up the runaway crayon, "people often say you should 'think outside the box.' Do you know what that means?"

"No," Sherman answered, watching his father carefully.

"It means," the dog said, "that we should imagine things beyond what anyone has ever done before. That we don't have to always 'stay inside the lines.' If I hadn't done that, I might never have invented the WABAC! So, maybe, if I was to color, it would look a bit like this."

And with that, Peabody sat down beside Sherman's coloring book and scribbled wildly in it with the crayon he held, purposely going outside the lines.

Sherman giggled. "But, Mr. Peabody, you're too old for coloring books!"

"Am I?" the dog asked in a careless tone. He drew another wild squiggle across the pages.

Sherman's smile turned mischievous.

"I bet I'm faster than you, Mr. Peabody," he said, lifting a crayon of his own.

"Is that so?" Peabody asked.

The boy nodded, grinning.

"Well, then. There's only one way to find out."

The race began.

XxX

By the time the game was over, that page of Sherman's coloring book was utterly ruined by scribbles of two different colors; and the boy himself was blinking drowsily, head sinking against his chest, a sleepy smile still on his face.

Peabody smiled as well and lifted the boy into his arms.

"Come on," he said, "it's past your bedtime."

When he had gotten Sherman tucked into bed, the dog went back to the living room, picking up the coloring book to return it to its proper place. He looked down at the page covered in squiggles with a fond smile.

In the future, people who visited Peabody's penthouse might wonder why a page from a coloring book, which, to the outside observer, looked terrible, was stuck on the door of the refrigerator. Nevertheless, there it proudly remained, for years to come.

XxX

After Sherman had complained of not being able to stay inside the lines when coloring, Mr. Peabody got an idea.

A few days later, Sherman sat down to attempt the arduous task of coloring once more.

"Oh, Sherman," Peabody said, "I almost forgot. I made something for you."

"Really?" Sherman asked, looking up, eyes bright. "What is it?"

"Nothing much," the dog replied, heading down the hall. "I just thought you might prefer coloring these over your book."

A minute later, Peabody returned, carrying a few pieces of paper in his arms. As the dog spread them out across the floor, Sherman saw that they were the letters of his name, cut out from a sturdy kind of paper.

"Cool!" the boy cried, scrambling over to where Peabody had laid down the 'S,' while a toothy grin spread across his face. "Thanks, Mr. Peabody!"

"You're welcome, Sherman," the dog said with a smile of his own. "Now, I've got to get some work done. Will this keep you busy for a while?"

"Yep," Sherman answered, already bending over the 'S,' crayon in hand.

"Good. When you're finished, maybe we'll hang them up in your room."

"Yeah!"

Another small smile lifted his lips as Peabody made his way to his study. For years, he'd had nearly everything man, or dog, could wish for. Wealth, notoriety, a successful business and more than comfortable home. But, it was his boy who had brought color to his life.