A/N: Just a silly bit of fun. Dedicated to Ewan McGregor's awful wig in the 1996 film.
Haircut
When the Coles were busy in entertaining their other guests and he was sure nobody else was observing them, Mr. Knightley walked over to stand next to Frank Churchill. 'So, Mr. Churchill, why did you really go to London?' he said conversationally.
The young man started, and then laughed nervously. 'What can you mean, sir? I went to get a haircut, as I believe I've mentioned.'
Mr. Knightley raised a sceptical eyebrow. 'I find that hard to believe,' he said, eyeing Churchill's hair which appeared unchanged in length, still almost brushing his shoulders and unchanged in style, still almost feminine in its flow (though perhaps a little too straggly for that).
The young man had the grace to brush, self-consciously running a hand through his – obviously uncut and when all was said and done, rather unbecoming – hair. 'These dashed London hairdressers, you know. Charge you a fortune and send you out looking much the same as you did going in.'
'Indeed, it is almost criminal,' he agreed. Then his lips twitched. 'Those who deceive ought to be punished; do you not agree, Mr. Churchill?'
Without waiting for an answer, a satisfied smile on his face, Mr. Knightley made his way across the room to Emma.