Wow. I got a LOT of reviews, especially for a small fandom like Artemis Fowl. One person even put me on their Story Alert list! Therefore, I won't disappoint them, by adding another chapter.

That sentence sounded a little confusing… ah well; you obviously know what I mean.

It's been like only three and a half months since I started writing fanfiction. …Weird. I looked at the last chapter of this, and found so many mistakes! Ack! I just want to redo it!

I'm starting to think this thing about writing the story while going on is pretty good. But my chapters won't be that long. One or two thousand words. Hopefully two, because I love long chapters, so I try to write them. I will update more frequently, though.

Summary: Right after Holly gets a job in the LEP, she cuts her hair. Each auburn lock falling through the floor makes her think about choices, and especially their consequences.

Haha, I don't have to add 'one chapter' cause obviously, it's not a one chapter any more! Haha!

Disclaimer: I do not own Artemis Fowl. Eoin (I only figured out yesterday that you pronounce it Owen!) Colfer does. I am not Eoin Colfer.

And here it is… the second chapter to Haircut. I suppose you're going to want me to go through with Holly's whole 'transformation' now. Actually, that doesn't sound like a bad idea. This is going to be a chaptered story now… weird…

Haircut

Chapter Two

When Holly awoke, she felt empty with the lack of her bronze curls.

She sighed with dismay. This would take some getting used to.

Leaving the warm covers of her bed, she groaned as sore muscles got to work again. Even Traffic took a bunch of running. Not to mention the standing up all day.

As she walked to the restroom, she already missed the feeling of her hair cascading down her back. Her hand automatically reached for the brush, but when she looked in the mirror, she knew she didn't need it.

She saw a girlish face with a pretty complexion that most male elves would drool after. The manicured nails, the whole deal. But framing her face was a tomboyish haircut, with uneven patches everywhere. And she had heard somewhere that Mud People called it the 'pixie' haircut. Like any pixie would be caught dead with this, she thought.

Well, it could be worse. At least she didn't shave herself bald.

And still, she was worrying about her appearance. Mistake Number One. She scolded herself for that in her head, while taking her now clean uniform out of the dryer.

When she was dressed, she packed her lunch slowly, occasionally hesitating at cookies or the like and putting stuff like sandwiches instead of pasta. Stop with the juice, go for the soda.

When she left for the door to walk to work, she felt strangely light with the absence of her hair. Oh, but wait. She had forgotten something.

A last minute search of her room was in order, pulling out diaries, makeup, and any other things that seemed too feminine.

Tying the knot of the giant trash bag she had placed them in, she threw them all away.

She had left the pile of hair in the restroom, to remind her of her purposes. And to make her room more dirty.

The door was in front of her, menacing and looming. She could very well be facing social suicide for being a 'wannabe' or something. But then again, she could have been taking the same chances by staying the same.

Taking a deep breath and suppressing a shudder, she walked right through the glass double-doors.

The attendant looked up at the noise the door made, and proceeded to gape at Holly.

Staring made her nervous, but she pretended to pay no heed to his obvious amazement.

"Holly Short, signing in for Traffic duty."

The sudden break in the silence caused him to blink and remember his duties.

"Of course. You may proceed to get your equipment."

She nodded curtly, straightened and went on. First walking in, nobody noticed her, and that was perfectly fine for the past Holly, but insulting for the new. She cleared her throat rather loudly, and a few heads turned to her.

These heads were gaping so much that their fellow heads turned to look, and in a matter of a few seconds, every single head was staring.

A mime could've broken the silence. Even Captain Root (1), the hot-headed proud individual that was famous with the nickname Beetroot, was gaping like a fish.

Holding her head high, she walked straight past them, her boots making clanks on the floor. She could feel everyone's eyes on her as she picked up her projector and signed it out, yet she looked calm.

But on the inside, her emotions were struggling to surface and her heart was pounding fast.

Holly was strong. She knew it. It was, perhaps, the only reason she was able to keep a patient face and her emotions down. It was all she could take not to break down in front of everyone.

As she started her patrol about three blocks away from Headquarters, she again ignored the strange looks she was getting. After all, it was only yesterday when she had patrolled docked out in curls.

Now from far away, she looked like an extremely small male.

The cars weren't very interesting to watch, and before long, Holly found herself getting bored. One young elf was eyeing her critically. The innocence of him made him seem like a toddler, but he was clearly a teen.

After a little staring, he spoke up.

"Are you a boy or a girl?" Holly looked at him for a moment, and then laughed. The mother of the boy was looking flustered and was apologizing every other second.

When she was done, Holly turned to the boy, amusement dancing in her eyes.

"I most certainly am a girl."

Going back to the building for lunch (it was a popular thing to do now, hanging out in the commons), she found that she had became used to the staring, and now was able to successfully ignore them without feeling awkward. Still, the number of heads that turned her way as she entered the room was quite unnerving.

Maybe I should just eat at my post… For a moment, she was unsure. Then an image popped into her head.

The pile of pretty brown hair at her house.

And just like that, all hesitation disappeared. Searching the tables, she found an empty seat.

She plopped down in a seat right next to a very surprised Trouble Kelp, who was also a traffic worker (2). And a bunch of his friends, of course.

At first, she took no notice of him (or so it seemed), but after a while, his staring grew annoying.

"What?" She snapped, losing patience.

He eyed her quite like the young boy had. "Why did you sit here?"

The question took her off guard. "Because I wanted to."

Apparently, he was satisfied. "Alright. I'm Trouble Kelp."

"Holly Short." She felt much like she had in elementary, with introductions and wanting to meet new people.

After a moment, she spoke up again. "Do you have a brother? Younger?"

Surprised, he replied. "Yeah, I do."

"Does he walk to school by my post, about three blocks from here?"

"Yes. Why, did you see him?"

"Actually, yes. You look like him."

He snorted. "Wish I didn't. He's rather immature. And his name's Grub."

"Grub and Trouble, huh?"

He turned to her, daring her to make a comment about his mother's naming skills or something of the like. "Yup."

"Creative."

A grin spread across his face at her reply, seeming to decide she was alright. Slowly, he spoke again. "You know, you're alright. You can go on and hang out with us, if you like." It appeared like he was feeling like a new kid in school, also.

She met his eyes, and kept her face impassive of any shy smile or weak grin that was an automatic response to an invitation like that.

"Cool."

END OF CHAPTER

(1)—Just wanted to make this clear. Root isn't a Commander yet. The events in this story take place before the events in Artemis Fowl. Really, I don't think Arty is even born.

(2)—Trouble is also a Traffic worker, and not yet a Captain.

I will now take up this space and advertise my HP one-shot (the latest one that might be a chaptered), What Is It. :)