A/N: Yep, another devoted Jo/Laurie shipper. Just a little bit of fluff I came up with at work. Enjoy!
Beth :)
He raced down the street, hoping to get there before the man and his assistant went home for the day. His heart was pounding--not only from the brisk burst of exercise, something he sorely lacked being cooped up with his tutor most of the day for lessons, but also at the thought of what he was about to do. From the very second Jo had removed her bonnet, Laurie had but one thought--he must have her beautiful hair. Let John Brooke have his glove--true, his love had touched and worn it, it was a powerful talisman. But this, this had been a part of Jo, the only thing she had ever been vain about, her long beautiful hair.
Laurie found the shop quite easily, as there was only one wig maker in Concord, and he wasted no time bursting through its worn wooden door. The wigmaker, a greasy middle-aged man with a rotund figure and a long, drooping moustache, dropped the scissors he had been sharpening and pursed his lips at Laurie's impertinence.
"Can I help you?" he asked, his tone of voice indicating the question was nothing more than a formality. Laurie ignored the man's obvious rudeness and looked around the shop.
"I wish to make a purchase," he said as his eyes roamed the room.
"Might I say that sir already has a magnificent head of hair and truly has no need for the services I provide?" This was in fact true, but he would not be put off by the man's obvious attempt to make him leave the shop.
"Thank you kindly, but I am not looking for a wig."
The wigmaker raised an eyebrow. "Surely sir notices that this is a wig shop, existing solely for the purpose of selling said wigs. As we have agreed that you neither need nor desire what I have to offer, I fail to see how I can be of any assistance."
It took a great deal of effort and a fierce grinding of his teeth for Laurie not to land a punch in the man's condescending mouth. As added protection, he placed his hands inside his pockets. "I understand a girl came to see you earlier, a girl with chestnut hair."
"There are several people coming through my shop each day sir, I cannot remember each one." The wigmaker laughed at Laurie's obvious stupidity and returned to sharpening his scissors.
"I dare say that is true, sir, but it may be that the brain is willing but the mind is weak," Laurie said, deciding to return something of the man's cheek. Before the wigmaker could make a reply, his assistant walked out from the back of the shop.
"Ah, young Master Laurence, how nice to see you today." Laurie hated to use his family's name and fortune to win any arguments or advance his case in any way, but he could not deny the rush of pleasure he felt when the other man's face turned maroon with embarrassment and he began to stutter his speech.
"F-forgive me, sir, I had no idea," the man said, promptly laying his scissors down. "What was it you were inquiring after again?"
"I believe it was the locks of a young lady. Chestnut-colored, is that right?" the assistant said, a twinkle in his eye. It wasn't very often the other man was put in his place and he was going to take every opportunity to enjoy it.
"Yes, thank you," Laurie said as the man brought forward a box. Jo's lovely hair was nestled in tissue paper, secured at both ends by crimson ribbon. He fought the urge to bring it to his nose to see if it still held her scent, not wishing to look even more of a fool than he already would.
He turned to the older man, who was still in a state of shocked embarrassment. "How much would you want for this?" His tone was cold, formal, businesslike. He knew the man had given Jo a rather small sum for what he had taken, and though he would pay any amount to have it, Laurie wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.
"Well, sir, it is a rather fine specimen. A wig made of that hair would bring in a princely amount, and help to feed my family," the wigmaker said, his eyes glassy with the thought of money.
"I would advise you not to attempt to swindle me, sir. I know for a fact that you only gave the girl twenty-five dollars, and I will pay nothing more. You are obviously not destitute." Laurie took the sum from his wallet, threw it at the man's feet, and turned to the assistant.
"Thank you for all your help. If you ever need anything, do not hesitate to call at my home."
"It was my pleasure, Master Laurence," the younger man said, smiling.
Laurie went into the house by the back door, creeping stealthily up to his rooms. He did not want his grandfather to see him, and especially John Brooke. It was enough that his tutor teased him about the amount of time he spent at the Marches'. If Brooke ever found out what he had just done, there would be no end to it.
There was a chair by the window where he often sat to gaze upon his most beloved friends, above all his Jo, and it was there he went now. He could see nothing in the house beyond, but today he was happy just holding the box with Jo's hair nestled safely within.
Someday he would have the real Jo to hold. For now, he was content to gaze upon her hair and dream of the day they would become as one.
