Author's Note: So, there's probably a perfectly normal reason why Will Estes cut his hair super short over the summer. But that's reality, and reality can be boring that way. Fortunately, this is fanfiction, and in fanfiction, there are multiple, more-interesting explanations for why Jamie Reagan was sporting a buzz cut at the beginning of Season 7. Here are two of them.
==BB==BB==
Version 1: Dyeing to Know
Danny Reagan banged on his brother's apartment door for the second time. "Kid, I know you're in there. Open up," he called through the door. "I saw your car downstairs." He was reaching for the key he kept in case of emergency when he finally heard the door being unlocked.
"Don't say anything, okay Dan?" Jamie said immediately.
"About what?" Danny looked his brother over and quickly noticed the new haircut. "Drop and give me fifty, grunt," he teased.
"Come on, Danny."
Danny smirked. "What happened?"
"Like you didn't hear. You just stopped by my place tonight for no reason?"
"I heard an officer from the 12th had a minor incident today. Didn't get all the details." But the few details he'd heard were the real reason he'd stopped by tonight, not that he'd tell Jamie that. "I stopped by because I need a place to crash for a few hours. We identified a suspect in that double murder, and he lives just down the street. He typically gets home at four in the morning. Didn't want to disturb Lin and the boys by going home for a few hours. But, anyway, what happened to you?"
Jamie sighed. "It came over the radio as a minor business dispute…"
==BB==BB==
"So, partner, summer or winter?" Eddie Janko asked her partner.
"What about them?" Jamie asked.
"Which do you like better? Hot, sunny summer or cold, snowy winter?"
"Summer," Jamie answered quickly. "It's nice and warm, and you can spend time outside until it gets dark, which happens a lot later in the day."
"But what about the snow? It makes the trees so pretty. Oh, and the Christmas lights!"
"Yeah, if you're in a park. Otherwise, it makes the sidewalks slushy and the roads icy."
"Pessimist," Eddie grumbled. "What about for the job? Summer tends to bring out the crazy in people. They spend more time outside interacting with each other and making trouble for us. In winter, they stay inside and away from each other."
"Now who's being a pessimist?"
"12-David, business dispute at the beauty salon," the dispatcher rattled of the address.
"See, just like this. It's summer, and people are freaking out at a beauty salon. One of the most relaxing places you can go," Eddie argued even as Jamie increased his speed. This didn't sound like a call that required the lights and siren.
A few minutes later, he brought the car to a stop in front of the salon, and the two officers made their way into the business.
"Back there," the receptionist gestured toward a station halfway down the room. "Nina's customer, Barbara, is going nuts."
Jamie glanced in the direction the receptionist was pointing. Two women were facing each other across a salon chair, both screaming at each other. "Nina! Barbara! What's the problem here?" he called to the women as he and Eddie walked toward them.
Barbara turned to the officers, then back to Nina. "You called the cops, you incompetent bitch?" she yelled at Nina and started moving around the chair.
Nina moved another step also. "I didn't call. Not that you don't deserve it, slapping me like that. Crazy whore!"
"Hey! Ladies!" Jamie yelled at the two as he and Eddie ran to separate them. "What's this about?"
"She thinks she can tell me how to do my job," Nina huffed.
"I can, you dumbass. I wanted fuchsia highlights. But look at this color. Look!" Barbara pointed toward a bowl of hair color on a stand beside the chair. "That's hot bubblegum pink, not fuchsia."
Jamie looked at the bowl. Fuchsia was a shade of pink, if he remembered right, and that goo was definitely pink. "Nina, is this the color Barbara wanted?"
"It would have come out fuchsia if she'd let me finish," Nina insisted. "I'm the color specialist here. Not that beauty school dropout. Thinks she knows everything because she finished one quarter." Nina directed her last comment at her irate client.
That was apparently the last straw for Barbara. "You incompetent tramp!" she screamed. Before Eddie could stop her, she grabbed the bowl of dye and flung it at Nina.
Unfortunately, Barbara's aim was off, and instead of hitting Nina, the bowl hit Jamie square on the top of his head. "Hey!" he yelped. Fortunately, the bowl was some sort of thin plastic, so it hadn't really hurt, but he could feel the cold goo running down the side of his head.
"Alright. Enough of that!" Eddie pulled Barbara away from the scene, pushed her against the wall and quickly handcuffed her. "You're going in now. Nina, do you want to press charges also?"
"Yes, ma'am," Nina confirmed. "She slapped me." Nina held out her arm to show off the red mark that was sure to become a more colorful bruise.
"Officer Janko, why don't you take Nina's statement, and I'll take your prisoner out to the car." Jamie took Barbara by the arm and started walking back to their car. Damn, this was going to be an embarrassing report. He should've had better control of the scene. Moved both parties further away from any loose objects. And because he hadn't, he had hair dye goo in his hair, and probably on his uniform also. And it had to be pink, of all colors. "Watch your head, miss," he advised while helping Barbara into the car.
As soon as Barbara was secured, he opened the trunk and looked for any clean rags. He spotted a roll of paper towels and grabbed a handful off the roll, using them to scrub as much of the dye as possible out of his hair before it dripped anywhere else. Pink. And now it was on his hands also.
"Hey, Reagan," Eddie greeted him as she exited the salon. "Ready to go?"
"More than ready," Jamie grumbled. He took his seat in the car, then waited for Eddie to join him before heading for the station house.
Eddie sniffed. "Wow, partner, you're really stinking up the car," she commented.
"Pretty smelly stuff," Jamie retorted and wiped at his watering eyes. "How do you stand it when you get your hair done?"
"We ladies do what we have to so we look pretty for you men, partner," Eddie teased. "And," she whispered to him, "My salon uses less stinky botanical-based products."
In the back seat, Barbara snickered. "Hey, Officer, you might want to give your partner the name of that salon."
Eddie looked back at their prisoner. "And you might want to mind your own business." She turned back to Jamie. "Tell you what. When we get back to the station, I'll process her in, and you go wash that stuff out of your hair."
"Thanks, Ed." Jamie lowered his window a few inches to get some fresh air in the car.
A few minutes later, they arrived back at the station, and Jamie immediately headed for the locker room and the showers in it. He was stripping off his uniform when another officer walked in. "Hey, Beroni," he called to the new arrival.
"Reagan," Sal Beroni acknowledged as he sat down in front of his locker and started taking off one of his shoes. "What happened to you?" the other officer asked as he noticed the goopy splotch on the side of Jamie's head. "Is that blood?"
"Nah. It's nothing," Jamie explained. "This crazy woman at a beauty salon threw a bowl of hair dye and it hit me. Stinks to high heaven."
Beroni stood up and took a closer look. "How long ago did this happen?"
Jamie shrugged. "About a half hour ago. Why?"
Beroni opened his locker and began digging through a bag. "No, not that one," he muttered. "Not that. Where is it?"
"Beroni?" Jamie asked.
"Here it is!" Beroni pulled a bottle out. "Here. Try this shampoo-conditioner. It might help, if it isn't too late already."
"Help what? Too late?" Jamie asked. He took the bottle from Beroni.
"Hair dye usually processes in less than thirty minutes," Beroni explained. "That stuff's probably done its job by now."
"'Done its job?" Jamie thought about what that could mean. "As in, it turned my hair pink?" he asked in horror.
"Listen. Go wash it a couple of times and we'll see what happens. In the meantime, I'll call my Uncle Paulie. He's had a salon for years. He'll work you in for an emergency appointment."
Twenty minutes later, Jamie stood in front of the mirror, staring morosely at his reflection; mostly at the top and left side of his head. "It's pink."
Beroni nodded. "Very pink."
"Like this gum my sister used to like. Bubbleicious." Jamie ran his fingers through the pink mess that was his hair and a few strands broke off in his fingers. God, could this day get any worse?
"Looks like it overprocessed also," Beroni commented. "I worked at Uncle Paulie's salon during high school," he explained at Jamie's questioning look.
"Knock-knock," a female voice called from the door.
"Janko," Jamie explained. "Come on in, Ed," he called to her.
Eddie let herself in. "Wow, Reagan, that's really pink. Nina was worried that might happen."
"Fuchsia pink?" Jamie asked.
"No, that's more hot bubblegum pink. Looks like Barbara was right about that part." Eddie tried not to smile at her partner's misfortune.
Jamie sighed. "Go ahead. Let it out."
Eddied restrained herself to a few chuckles. "What are you doing to do?"
"Reagan has an emergency appointment at my uncle's salon in half an hour," Beroni explained. "Uncle Paulie will fix it right up."
==BB==BB==
"Sal! Nephew!" Paulie Beroni boomed as Jamie Reagan followed Sal into his uncle's salon. "And this must be the officer who had the unfortunate hair-dye accident."
"Paulie, meet Jamie Reagan. Jamie, my uncle, Paulie Beroni."
"Pleased to meet you, Sir." Jamie shook the hand Paulie extended.
"And I'm always glad to meet Sal's comrades. Now, let me take a look at this hair."
Jamie pulled his sweatshirt's hood off his head. The early September weather was really too warm for the sweatshirt, but it had been the only way to cover his messed-up hair while leaving the station.
"Damn. That is pink. Have a seat," Paulie gestured toward the nearest chair in the salon. As soon as Jamie had seated himself, Paulie began examining his hair. "Very pink, and very overprocessed," he muttered.
"You can fix it? Make it my normal color?" Jamie asked.
"I can dye it you natural color, but…" Paulie began.
"But?"
"But that pink dye damaged your hair. It probably had a hefty amount of bleaching agent in it. I can dye your hair back to your natural color, but I'm afraid that will only make the breakage worse. Hair can only take so much chemical restructuring before it breaks. And as it breaks, that spot will be shorter than the rest of your hair. Not a good look."
"So what can we do?" Jamie asked. "Leaving it pink isn't an option."
"No, of course not. You're not a teenage girl," Paulie scoffed as his examined Jamie's hair again. "What I can do is dye it your natural color and then do a close-cropped cut. There's a little too much damage on top for a high and tight. I might have to do a buzz cut. Maybe just a bit longer on top. Your hair will grow back nice and healthy, and your natural color."
"Paulie does a good buzz cut. He was a barber in the Navy way back in the day," Sal volunteered.
"Not that you ever let me give you one, nephew," Paulie retorted. "The boy likes that wavy Italian look," he whispered to Jamie. "Thinks it's gonna get him a girl."
"Yeah, and it's working so far. Been married for two years now, remember, Uncle Paulie?" Sal called out.
Jamie sighed quietly. He was going to take so much teasing over this, but it was preferable to pink hair or uneven short patches. "Okay. Let's go for it."
Paulie gripped his shoulder. "You sit here and relax. I'll go get the color mixed up."
==BB==BB==
"And that's what happened. A stupid catfight, and I end up with virtually no hair."
"Nah. It's not that bad." Danny glanced his brother's shorn head again and shook his head. "Kid, it's probably a good thing you didn't follow Grandpa, Dad and I into the Marines."
"Why's that, Dan?" Jamie tried not to get defensive at Danny's remark. His older brother probably wasn't going to rag on him about not being a tough-enough Reagan; not after the day he'd had.
"Because – not sayin' you're ugly or anything; you did get the Reagan and Conor genes – but that haircut is really not your best look." Danny threw an arm around his brother's shoulders. "Come on. Let's go grab some drinks and find a game to watch on that nice TV of yours."
Jamie smiled. "Sir. Yes, Sir!"
==BB==BB==
So this is what happens when I'm sitting around the beauty salon waiting for my hair color to process. :) Up tomorrow: the dramatic explanation for Jamie Reagan's haircut.
