Gimme a head with hair, long beautiful hair, shining, gleaming, streaming, flaxen waxen

Give me down to there ~ hair ~ shoulder length or longer

here baby, there mama, everywhere daddy, daddy

HAIR-hair-hair-hair-hair-hair-hair!

Grow it, show it, long as I can grow it, my HAIR!

-the Cowsills

'Ah, Captain, come right in!'

Her mouth a round O, Janeway entered the cargo bay at his command. 'Neelix, what…'

'It's my new salon!'

'Salon? As in…'

'Grooming! All phases of grooming – anything the crew might need – manicures, pedicures, facials, haircuts, styling…'

Janeway surveyed what was once the unused portion of Seven's cargo bay. Storage space aboard Voyager was limited, but now a row of recliners, along with tables laden with styling tools, lined the back wall. 'Neelix, I would appreciate it if you would first obtain permiss…' she began.

'Oh but Captain!' Neelix blithely interrupted, 'Don't you agree that proper grooming affects morale? And as Morale Officer, it's my duty to see that Voyager has everything it needs!

Janeway shook her head in exasperation. 'But, Neelix, everyone does their own grooming. Ours was a mission ship when we departed Deep Space Nine. A barber and other such amenities were considered unnecessary. So…we make do with the sonic showers and the crew helps each other with haircuts.' She looked around, aghast. 'The replicator rations you must have used!'

'M-most of the items I traded…a-and I used only a few rations. Captain, don't you see…' Neelix began, but as Janeway's skunk-eye began to glow, resorted to begging. 'A fortnight, Captain. Give me just two weeks? You won't be sorry.'

'I think you're overextending yourself, Mr. Neelix,' she said sternly, 'but I'll give you the two weeks. We'll see how this works. If you can maintain your other duties and if sufficient interest is shown for this project…' she gestured toward the conglomeration, 'then you can retain it. It's your baby.' Captain Janeway turned to go, then stopped. 'One more thing, Mr. Neelix. Let's limit the program to hair styling, at least for the time being.'

'Agreed. Thank you, Captain.'

'I'll inform the crew. Carry on, Mr. Neelix.'

After erecting a privacy screen so that Seven could regenerate in relative peace, Neelix opened his salon each day after the noon meal had been served. For the trial period, he chose as his clients those crewmembers he felt could benefit the most from his services. Samantha Wildman was first on his list. He led her, protesting, to one of the recliners and assured her that he knew what he was doing. Later, she arrived for her duty shift in Engineering and was greeted with compliments applause, for her rather stiff-straw-like locks had been trimmed and shaped and softly curled.

B'Elanna looked at her in admiration. 'I wouldn't have believed it. Looks like Neelix has some talent after all. Does he have an opening?'

'I believe so,' smirked Samantha, 'but don't you think you'd better ask Tom if he minds? He might like your hair the way it is.'

'Tom has no say in the matter, Sam. Have you ever tried managing Klingon hair?'

An hour later, B'Elanna emerged with a becoming, softly arranged cap of thick brown locks. She turned in the direction of Engineering, and was met in the corridor by the Captain. Pleasantly surprised by the new look of her chief, she complimented B'Elanna; even giving some thought to having Neelix do her own hair...but...no. She'd wait for a few more testimonials.

Steam rolled out into the corridor from Neelix's kitchen, bearing with it aromas impossible to resist. Chakotay, on his way to his quarters, veered off course and entered the mess hall. Neelix prepared a plate for him, eyeing the stiff, blue-black helmet of hair adorning the First Officer's well-shaped head.

'Er, Commander?'

'Yes, Neelix? Wait - no leola root, please. Double the corn salad. That's great. What did you want?'

'Were you aware that the Captain gave me permission to operate a grooming salon?'

'I was aware that she gave you permission after you had it all set up,' Chakotay grinned.

Neelix blushed. He added a roll and a napkin to the tray and handed it to Chakotay. 'Why not come by and take a look? I've gotten very favorable comments so far.'

'I might just do that.'

Neelix was greatly encouraged. If he could talk the Commander into a new look, perhaps the Captain might allow him to restructure that tight, strict bun...

Captain Janeway monitored the steady course of Voyager through the stars. There had been several months of relatively peaceful travel and conversely, it made her nervous. She wasn't sure why. Maybe she needed a break from the boredom, for that's exactly what duty had been lately - boring. Nothing to do but regular maintenance. If only something would break up the monotony...

She heard the turbolift doors hiss open; that would be her First Officer reporting for his duty shift; right on time, as usual. As usual, he sank down in his chair to her left and as usual, flipped up the chairside computer to check the readouts. Then she glanced at him.

Something was different. She frowned. Nothing seemed out of place, but…something was definitely different. As unobtrusively as possible, she looked him over from the polished boots to the freshly pressed and processed uniform to the correctly placed communicator and rank, to... his hair! She tried not to stare as he bent over the console, reading intently, seeming not to notice her appraisal. The impossibly black, harsh lines of hair she remembered now showed slight streaks of grey, a slight line of it at the temples and scattered throughout the thick straight strands. These were not brushed so harshly back as before, but dipped slightly over the tops of his ears, just barely meeting Starfleet standards. There was a barely discernable part on the left, from which dark strands fell alternately forward and back, almost like Harry's similarly-textured hair. How could she have missed it? Despite the grey, he looked ten years younger; distinguished and quite attractive…very handsome…incredibly delicious. She braked her thoughts before they reached her face. Clearing her throat, she complimented him on the new look.

'Thank you, Captain. Neelix has talents far beyond our expectations. Are you going to allow him to keep the salon?'

'I think so.'

A few minutes went by.

'Commander?'

'Yes?'

'Can you take the bridge? There's something I want to do.'

'Sure.'

'All right, Neelix, you've won the hearts of the crew. Now it's my turn. Only do not cut my hair. Mark liked it long, and I intend to keep it that way. Just remember, it has to conform to Starfleet Regulations, which means off the face.'

'No problem, Captain.'

With some trepidation, Janeway stepped off the turbolift. As one, her bridge crew turned to look at her. One by one, they applauded loudly, for her long reddish locks were drawn up and back from her face, gathered into a high, clipped twist which fell in a neat, regulations-allowed column nearly to her waist. It was a relief not to have the heavy bun pulling at her scalp and giving her headaches, and it made her feel decidedly sexy (although that was certainly not regulation). She could manage leaning over consoles easily enough. What she wasn't sure she could manage was the look on Chakotay's face when she sat next to him. Suddenly, what Mark had liked didn't seem so important any more. The look on Chakotay's face sent shivers up her spine. Invisible sparks crackled between them.

'You look very nice, Captain,' he ventured.

'As do you, Commander.'

I'd say Neelix has performed a great community service. He's certainly raised morale.'

'I should say so.'

They continued to gaze at each other as the bridge crew hid their smiles - all but Tuvok, who was all business as usual.

A few minutes went by.

'Um, Commander, nothing's going on at the moment. I'm having coffee in my Ready Room. Care to join me? Tuvok, you have the conn.'

The End