Title: Haircut
Fandom: Danny Phantom
Character(s): Danny, Sam, Tucker, Manson family
Rating: G
Genre(s): General
Disclaimer: I own nothing but this story.
Summary: He remembers a time when her hair was almost as long as her ...
Note: This scene basically happens before Danny meditates to his Shrine of Sam in "Fanning the Flames."
Written: 12 March 2008
He remembers a time when her hair was almost as long as her, remembers how she would tie it up in pigtails and use them to "accidentally" whip people. She would be seem sorry--accomplished--for harming people like that, always offering a large apologetic--victorious--smile, especially with Paulina.
Laughing a bit, he leafs through the pictures he keeps in his desk drawer, trying to find a childhood picture, but stops short when he sees another picture of her. She's looking at the camera, but isn't smiling, though he knows that she wanted to.
He recalls when the photo was taken; the summer before seventh grade. It had been a moment to capture, seeing as how it was the moment after her first haircut in about a decade. The only reason she had abandoned her cascading locks was because her parents had gotten a professional hairdresser to strap the little heiress to a chair to do something about her "impractically long hair."
Her parents had wanted to keep it long, about waist length, and they made it perfectly clear that was what they believed was best for their daughter. Of course, said daughter objected, her grandmother backing her up by firing the hired hand (though paying him for his troubles) and cutting her own granddaughter's hair however the girl liked. The result had been buzz-cutting a half of her scalp and fashioning the other half to fall over one side of her pale face like some punk rocker.
She had called him and Tucker the second the last lock of hair hit the floor, thus the photo, courtesy of Tucker Foley. Her parents had gone ballistic over the stunt, but he ever levelheaded-spunky grandmother had kept everything under control and promised to donate the dismembered hair.
He smiled at the memory and went on to look for more photos of her, a large collection already piled on his bed. He wondered if he had enough for a photo album to go along with his shrine.