I just have a sneaking suspicion that Clarice is obsessed with Johns hair. Ugh it's so hard to write for this one. But im determined. Anything that seems like an idea i will write down. I have not abandoned you guys lol.

"John Proudstar, don't you fucking dare."

John stood stiff, the hand held to his hair frozen in midair. He turned to meet the fuming woman standing in the bathroom doorway.

"Language." He playfully scolded with a smirk.

"What are you, Captain America?" She scoffed.

Clarice eyed his hand with malice that could only be reserved for the device it held.

"I swear to you John, if you shave your head I will reign hell down on your ass." She threatened, halfheartedly or not was still to be determined.

In hindsight, she should have seen it coming.

John had been hinting a lot lately about shaving his head. Claiming that the long hair was too much of a hassle on missions and a lot to take care of. But every time he even mentioned the idea, Clarice shot it down with enough conviction to have the grown man cower. She thought that had been enough to erase the thought from his mind.

She thought wrong.

It took Marcos implying a certain John with an electric razor in the bathroom of the room they shared to make her realize that he was serious.

So here they were now. Him standing in front of the mirror with a light smirk and her next to him ready to beat his ass.

"Clarice, I've told you before, my hair's too much to take care of. It's easier this way." He spoke carefully, running his fingers through his now armpit-length hair.

"Oh please, you're just lazy." Clarice rolled her eyes to the ceiling.

She loved his hair. Somehow this man's hair was always beautiful. He could be doused in sweat and ash and his hair would still be flawless. Those silky smooth and full locks were what she woke up to everyday and she wouldn't allow herself to be without an essential part of her morning routine.

"Really? Lazy?" He lifted an eyebrow, his smirk growing wider.

Oh. So he was enjoying this.

"You know it's just hair, right?"

...Is he serious right now?

"Just hair? Then I guess the Underground is just a mutant organization." Clarice glared as she threw her arms up.

"...That doesn't make sense."

Clarice huffed and moved so that she pressed against John's side. She ran a hand through his hair, reveling in the softness and comfort it brought. A sound, a groan maybe, came out of the man before and he turned to face her completely. Placing both hands in his hair, her fingers massaged his scalp and she watched as he closed his eyes at the sensation. She almost smiled at the sight.

"Come on, Thunderbird." Her nails scratched against the skin of his scalp. "I love your hair."

John opened his eyes and gave her a fond look.

"Well, Blink, I love that you love my hair. But like I said, It's just hair. It'll all grow back."

"But I don't want it to grow back," Clarice whined, "I want it to stay like that forever."

John smiled at her childish antics and placed his hands on her hips. Leaning down to place a peck on her lips.

Maybe it's unhealthy how obsessed she is with his hair. But when she looks at him like that, with hard eyes and pouty lips? Well, he's never been one to say no to her before.

"Okay," He pretended to think for a moment, "What if I just cut a few inches, like a trim?"

Clarice cringed in front of him, her fingers dragging down to play with the ends of his hair. She stared at his chest before she finally sighed and looked back up at him.

"Fine. But I get to choose how much you cut," She raised her finger to point at him and kept her eyes narrowed,

John smiled and kissed her once again. He faced the bathroom sink, reaching down to open the drawer on the left and pull out a pair of scissors. He promptly handed them to her and leaned his back against the counter.

"Whatever you say, boss."

R&R, tell me what I should do next guys!