fic: haircuts, lollipops, and letting go
Written for the karathracelives ficathon in twenty minutes. (And it shows) It was too long to fit in the comments so I'm posting here to my journal.
Yeah, I totally used my own prompt. I hope I haven't broken some fanfic law I wasn't aware of.
“Don’t quit your day job, Starbuck!” some hot shot young pilot snickered over his shoulder as a parting shot.
Kara just rolled her eyes behind a wispy curtain of blond strands, “We all frakking hate you, Dry Run!” she chorused in reply, careful to mimic his mockingly singsong tone.
The hatch to the head clanked shut behind him with the same lackluster force of the cocky youth’s taunt.
She focused back on her dim reflection over the sink and tried to evenly get the dull shears through a clump of her fair hair one last time before giving in and sawing mercilessly at it.
Heavy footsteps, then the faucet beside hers turned on with a squeal and the sound of rushing water filled the air.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Starbuck,” the water turned off and she could hear Helo rubbing his hands dry on a bit of toweling. His warm hands then wrapped around her shoulders, halting her creative process.
He turned her carefully towards him and stared. She blew a strand out of her eyes.
Her voice was blunt, strident, “What, Helo?”
She knew what. There were clumps of gold all over the sink, swimming in the water along the edge, clinging to her tanks and littering the floor. Plus, she’d seen herself. She knew what. But damned if it wasn’t irritating to have a million witnesses to her exorcism. There was no privacy on a battlestar. Save your thoughts and the six by four foot space behind your bunk curtain. And even those were debatable.
“All this because of the lollipop? I didn’t think it was that bad.” He ran a hand over the nape of her neck where most of her locks had already been shorn away.
She parted her hair on either side of her face so she could see him and rolled her eyes again.
Maybe if Helo didn’t insist on consuming one every time they played Triad like the candy was some kind of frakking good luck charm, she never would have leaned over and got her hair caught in it in the first place. But that was neither here nor there.
“Don’t be stupid. It’s just that I came in here to cut it out and once I got started I realized I hadn’t cut my hair since…”
His face changed- softened a bit, but hardened a little too, if that were possible. He always knew how to get things out of her. Compassion, but not too much. A little went a long way with Kara. Nothing made her want to clam up like making a big deal out of her feelings.
“Since…?” He waited. Dropped his hold on her arms.
She ran her hand along the damp edge of the sinks, the cool metal contrasting with the sticky-wet strands of chopped hair. She began to listlessly swipe them into the sink’s basin.
“Since Zak died,” she said quickly, giving a particularly vicious swipe, “He always wanted me to grow my hair out. Said he liked it long. But I wouldn’t.”
Kara looked up at Helo, a flicker of something like pain, a little like regret and a lot like guilt found a resting place in her gaze.
“It wasn’t practical, I said. So I kept it short,” she pulled at a bundle of light blond that was still long. Stretched it all the way to its length: down to her elbow.
“I was so stubborn, Always refusing him the things he wanted…”
Helo waited patiently, sensed that there was a lot more to her words than just her dead fiancé wanting her to wear her hair long.
“And yet, the one time it truly mattered…I didn’t,” she whispered, the last word almost guttural. Kara turned back to the mirror and opened and shut the scissors. Once, twice. Stared at her reflection.
“Didn’t what, Kara?”
“Didn’t refuse him. Gave him what he wanted.”
A clump of blond fell gently to the polished steel below. Another.
Helo sighed, frowned in frustration and held out a piece she’d clearly missed, “I don’t understand, Kara.”
“I know,” she said simply.
I gave him what he wanted.
It killed him, she thought silently. But only in her mind where it was private.
She cut at the next bundle of strands he proffered as well.
“So you grew your hair out for him… Like a way to honor his memory?” He asked, purposefully casual now; curious. Kara nodded. While cutting. Another shank of hair that should have stayed on her head fell.
A pretty brunette pilot came out of one of the stalls; made horrified eyes at Kara’s work-in-progress. Whatever. At least her flight helmet would fit better now. That had to count for something.
“It’ll be two years to the day next Thursday. Since he died,” Kara muttered to Helo under the sound of the other pilot washing her hands, ”I figured it was time I tried to let go.”
They were both silent for a while save the sound of the dull shear’s blades and the occasional pilots’ ablutions.
Kara finished the last of her “bangs” and set the shears down with a little clank.
Helo leaned back against the sink and crossed his arms, watching her, “Feel better?”
She ran her hands over her hair, dusting off the stray strands and ruffling it into place as best she could.
A tiny smile pulled at her full lips, “You know, frak if I don’t kind of do.”
He gave a little chuckle. Kara ran her hand under some water and slicked back the strands in the front, glancing at him sidelong.
“What’s so damn funny?”
“All this therapy. For the price of a lollipop.”