A/N this is just an idea that popped into my head. I was really inspired by Evelyne Brochu discussing the symbolism of Delphine's hair. Here's what she said:
The hair transition is very symbolic to me. It happens all the time when you're trying to accelerate a change that hasn't quite happened yet on an inner level. Like when you're going through a breakup and you're not over the person, but you cut your hair and bleach it to tell the world, "This is a new beginning." I think Delphine is trying to force herself into a transition.
Delphine sat at the hair dressers. She had her phone out, hoping it would distract her. It didn't happen. She knew what she was doing. She hated it, but she knew.
"You're staring," Delphine blushed softly.
"Can you blame me?" Cosima whispered. She stroked her cheek, making Delphine close her eyes as she exhaled.
"You're silly," she rolled her eyes.
"Everything about you is beautiful. Especially those curls. They're my favorite."
"You seemed to have another favorite earlier," Delphine purred, her nose brushing against Cosima's.
"Different senses. I love to stare at all of you. I love to taste parts of you. But I love to touch those curls..." Cosima's hands were lost in Delphine's blonde curls. If Delphine were a cat, she'd have been purring. Instead she let each soft moan slip out. For the first time since she had left France, she felt like she was home.
"So what are we doing today?" The red headed hairdresser asked, popping her gum loudly.
"I want something different," Delphine smiled.
"Breakup?"
"What?"
"Most women want a brand new hairstyle when they're dumped."
"I have to do the dumping," she said sadly.
"Getting dolled up to leave him? Cold."
"Her." She corrected, raising an eyebrow. She had been stressed and irritated and was hoping for a confrontation. She had been waiting for someone to take all her anger and frustration out on.
"Cool. So we'll make it so good she'll regret losing you."
"Actually," Delphine's voice turned soft again. "She loved my curls. She loved the person I used to be. I want to look like another person."
"We can straighten your hair," the woman said, trying to hide her sadness at Delphine's words. "You know, if she loves you, your hair won't matter. I mean, would her hair make a difference to you?"
"Not one bit," she smiled. She couldn't imagine Cosima without her dreads, even though she had seen so many variations of her DNA. Would her hair be perfect like Alison's? She convinced herself it would be wild like Sarah's. She bit her lower lip, imagining her love with Helena's blonde curls. It amazed her how difficult it was to imagine when they looked identical.
"We'll take good care of you," the woman promised. Delphine nodded, smiling falsely as she began.
She let the woman work, making small talk here and there. She tried to block Cosima out of her mind. Those days were over. She couldn't return to being simply a monitor. She knew too much. She had made too many enemies to freely be with Cosima. And she had stuck her neck out one too many times for the clone club.
"Doctor Cormier," Ferdinand had said on his last day in Frankfurt.
"Did you need something else?" She asked, standing at her desk.
"I don't want this to come off wrong-"
"Say it," she had said, trying to stay polite.
"I could help you out, Delphine. And you could help me..."
"I'm a rather independent girl," she tilted her head.
"I want to trade secrets for sex." He blurted. "I'd hint around, but you're far too naive to understand sexual innuendo."
His insult made her laugh. "Actually, my girlfriend and I are quite skilled at all things sexual." She stared at him, hoping he felt as insignificant as he looked.
"That's right. You got dealt the gay one."
"I was asked to be a monitor since I'm already screwing her. But my love life isn't the point."
"Is it love?" He asked, stepping closer.
"Does it matter?" She countered.
"The clones are safest when the monitor understands their job. Would be a pity, you know, if anything happened to our dear Cosima..." He smiled at her reaction. "Later."
Delphine closed her eyes when he walked out. She knew that Cosima was her weakness. If these people wanted to take her out, they'd aim right for her heart. She knew in that moment what she needed to do. Monitor or not, she would keep Cosima soft at any cost.
"All done," the hair dresser smiled, bringing Delphine back to reality. The hair looked perfect. She looked powerful. She looked bold. She looked like a badass. "You don't like it?" The woman handed her a tissue and Delphine realized she had been crying.
"It's beautiful it's just-" the words fell. She had taken what Cosima loved most. She had changed herself into someone Cosima couldn't possibly love. And for the first time, she realizes it wasn't just about her hair.