It's a good thing I have an idea of what's going to happen in this story—if I didn't, I'd be at a real road block. As for the villain, I'm not saying. But it probably won't be a villain that was in the books. Maybe mentioned once or twice, but that's it. For some reason I don't like it when people pull old villains into their stories.

So sorry I haven't been able to update—I was at another conference. Alright, I don't have a good excuse. But I do have a free Saturday! No conferences, soccer games, OR competitions! FREEDOM!

Also, this chapter marks my 50,000th word to this website! Everybody cheeeeer!

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. What will happen after?

Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl. Eoin Colfer does. I am not Eoin (pronounced Owen, which I think is awesome) Colfer.

Haircut

Chapter Sixteen

Money. Moneymoneymoneymoney, Holly thought grumpily. All that people think about these days.

But then again, that's for a good reason. Unless you're either favoring the current leading political party (there are many more then just Republican and Democratic) or really, really lucky, if you live in Haven you're bound to be in debt up to your pointed ears.

Holly, after the company-wide discharge of Recon, had been visited (along with all the workers) by CASH, the Career Ascends to Success in Haven. They were the laughing-stock of the psychological world- always seeming to know exactly who was out of work, and trying to get them out of debt and into a fun, good-paying and successful job.

They were widely regarded as a big joke, as to put it mildly, they never work out. But the "assistors", as they liked to call them, were really, REALLY annoying. And so usually got their way.

And well, Holly usually gets her way too, but then again, here she was, working as a waitress at the local seafood restaurant.

Holly loathed seafood. Too much salt. Not to mention it usually was rather stale, since it had to be imported from the surface.

She slid away into a corner and took out her cellular, starting to speed-dial Trouble. He picked up on the first ring. "Holly?"

He sounded desperate. "CASH get you too?"

"Yeah," she answered. "What'd they stick you to?"

Sullen for a few moments, he finally answered. "Janitorial duty. Said it'd appease the hungry desires in the back of my mind." He snorted. "Desires for what, old banana peels? I've been cleaning up this place all day, and I don't even know where it is." Holly could practically hear him miserably poking at things with his pointed stick.

"Tell me about it. They placed me at an awful restaurant, just because it was close to my house. Claimed it would help me to 'breathe the fresh morning air' as I walked to work. Guess they must've forgotten that I used to work outside." She had to wince as the word 'used' left her mouth. Oh yeah—she doesn't work at the LEP any more.

His laughter made a crackling sound through the phone. "I've already called the other guys—CASH's got to them too. You won't believe this, but they've been placed at the most wacko jobs. Vein's working as one of those people who stands outside a restaurant wearing the menu."

Holly chuckled. "Actually, I can picture that," she said, imagining an annoyed looking Vein walking around with a big advertising sign.

"Yeah, and get this—Frond's been hired as a statistician. Can you believe that?"

A long pause. "Who'd be stupid enough to hire her for a job that requires thinking?"

"The local telephone company."

She groaned, half expecting her cell to shut down any second. "Somebody help us."

Suddenly a voice came through the phone, followed by Trouble's voice. "D'arvit, that's my boss. I don't think he'll like me being on the phone—gotta go, Holly." After a quick exchange of goodbyes, he hung up.

A toffee-skinned extremely short elf came running up to Holly—her boss. Apparently bosses had things about cell's, along with high school principals and the like.

"Miss, Short," he paused, reading her name tag, "This is a high-quality restaurant."

She looked at him, not wanting to upset but really too worn out to care. High-quality restaurant, yeah right.

He went on. "It doesn't do very much good to talk on the cellular when working." All right, it doesn't help much to chat when serving rotten-looking caviar, so what?

"Maybe you should just go home for today."

Quickly, she obliged. She hadn't even wanted that job anyway- like she would even come back tomorrow. Pssh.

Once she got home, though, there was something(s) she found that made her change her mind.

Bills. In her mailbox.

…Oh.

Holly sighed, bringing the neon-colored packet of papers in. She hated this time of the year—like every other fairy in existence, but Holly liked to believe she hated it more.

She looked at the bills and all of the numbers on them. That's a lot of digits—did she really take that many showers?

There was only one thing to do about this. Which was, unfortunately, go back to work tomorrow.

Ha. Yeah, right.

Holly didn't want to seem rude, but there was absolutely no way she was going back to that restaurant. No. Way.

Of course, that made it harder to pay the bills. Holly sighed, and started to get her shoes on.

Twenty minutes later, she was back in the Ops Booth, only there because Foaly came and vouched for her.

"Any luck on the robberies?"

He looked glum—a strange look for Foaly, who was almost always cheerful. "Nope. There are fingerprints all over the place, but all of them belong to regular visitors of the bank, so we can't pin it on anyone."

Holly fidgeted, not having much to talk about save for the subject she came for—which she didn't really want to bring up. "Er, Foaly? In the sake of friendship, could I ask a favor?"

The centaur turned around, the brightness in his eyes betraying his sudden interest. "Of course."

"Well, um, you know what day it is…"

Foaly's brilliant mind had already figured it out. "Having money problems?"

"…Maybe."

He laughed at her awkwardness. "I've seen your house, Holly. It's small enough that your bills must be tiny. Sure, I'll help you out. But you owe me."

"Owe you what?"

"I like carrots. Natural grown ones, from the surface. Without the nasty pesticides. And nettle smoothies."

Holly couldn't help but smile.

"Oh yes, Holly, don't forget to wear yellow tomorrow!"

She stared. "Yellow? What? Why?"

He shook his head rather fondly. "The first Crunchball game—don't tell me you forgot! And there's a practice today, too! In about half an hour, by the way. I thought that's why you came here in the first place!"

"Why do I have to wear yellow?" Holly asked, while quickly gathering up her things—the few of them she had, anyway.

"Well, we don't exactly have money to buy you uniforms, do we?" Foaly replied unhappily. This meant that also, he wasn't getting paid, even though he was needed to help catch the robber.

"But what about meds and protective equipment? And I don't have anything yellow!"

"Then I suppose the team might get a little bloody. You'll probably be allowed to use magic to heal yourself—you are running hot, aren't you?"

"Uh, yeah, but—"

"Okay, then you'll be fine. As for yellow, since you're short on money, you can just borrow one of my t-shirts." He looked pleased, like this was a great idea. Holly didn't really identify, but reluctantly agreed.

"Don't worry, Holly, I'll take care of your bills. Just go to practice, and if you see Root, do me a favor and remind me what a diligent, hard, loyal worker I am. And how he owes me pay."

"If you say so." She chuckled and left the room, bill problem solved.

On the way, she ran into the goal-keeper for the team, Al Brown. Said goalie hated his name, and went by Albie, from Al B. He was a small fellow, darker in skin color then Holly but lighter in hair, and simply loved crunchball—enough that the only reason he joined the LEP was because the coach was supposedly brilliant.

But Albie's luck ran out a year after he entered—Coach Ozark left, leaving the new, short-tempered Coach Atnek in his place.

They talked on the way to the gym, or at least, Albie talked. Mostly about his anger at whoever robbed the bank, for now they couldn't have uniforms.

"What kind of Crunchball team are we if we come in our OWN shirts, with NO uniforms, appearing disorganized, against a fancy-shmancy other team! WE need to be fancy! WE need to make a good impression!" He continued with his rambling for a good portion of the walk down the hall.

They walked into the gym together, him still talking and her simply nodding her head at appropriate moments.

"Ah! There's the coach- I had a strategy I wanted to show him!" Albie ran off, without a second glance to Holly. She shrugged off his rudeness and followed him to the rest of the team.

They were all gathered around the Hulk who was grinning and holding up something. She hopped up and down, and almost fell when she saw what he was holding, and what were packed into the box in front of him.

Uniforms. Bright, new, yellow, uniforms. The team was captivated.

"I know how the LEP had to sell all our equipment," he was saying, "So I decided to go out on a limb and buy us new ones!"

"But, Jon," Albie said, (Jon was apparently the Hulk's real name), "You barely have enough money to pay your own bills!"

The Hulk looked at the ground for a moment, quiet. Then he spoke up. "Money isn't a problem anymore—Crunchball is more important." The team started to cheer, and he resumed smiling.

"One smaller size, made especially for the lady." He threw a uniform at her. It was smaller then the others, and it looked like it'd fit her perfectly. She couldn't help but admire it, it was new and shiny and perfect. Everyone loves new things.

But as they set their uniforms down on the benches ever so carefully, Holly couldn't help but wonder where he got the money for them, along with the new, matching, crunchball and headgear. Her helmet even was specially made, so it'd fit her small head. She wasn't sure whether to be offended or thankful when he told her that.

Maybe he was the robber!, thought Holly excitedly. She promised herself that she'd talk to Foaly about this, trying not to look to suspiciously at him as he crunched another ball, earning yet more cheers from the team.

END OF CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Hey, this is turning into a mystery-ish! These names are spewing out of my mind. Completely random, almost. Ozark came because I was thirsty, saw a bottle of Ozarka water, and took off the A. Al was completely random, and then I thought of Albie and decided to make the 'bie' into a 'B'. Atnek, on the other hand, came from Athens, then took away the H, making Atens, switched the N and E, making Atnes, and made the S into a K. I don't even know where that came from. And I decided Jon was appropriate, for no apparent reason. It just clicked, you know?