Title: A Hairy Situation 
Author: Cait N. 
Series: TNG/DS9
Codes: Mott, Morn; humor
Rating: G 
Feedback: Please! caitn@mindspring.com 
Website: http://www.asstr.org/~CaitN/index.html

Disclaimer: Paramount owns the characters, I just take 'em
out for a spin every now and then.

Summary: PWP - written in a moment of lunacy. You can
blame it on a post Hypatia made on ASC.

= = = = = 
"A Hairy Situation" 
copyright May 2002 by Cait N.


"Okay, then Mr. Morn, just sit down here while I clean up
the floor and wash my hands. That's it, make yourself
comfortable. Well, as comfortable as you can. I swear,
you'd think with the remarkable advances they've made in
medicine they could at least design a comfortable barber
chair. <laugh>

"You know, I've never had a Lurian as a customer before.
Seems like your species doesn't get around too much into
Federation territory. Not that there's anything wrong with
that, mind you, my species is only just now starting to
poke its nose into fields it wouldn't have sneezed at just
ten years ago.

"I, myself, come from a long line of barbers. I couldn't
imagine doing anything else. Why, I might not be a ship's
captain leading his people into great battles and exploring
the mysteries of space, but I guarantee you, I know
more about what goes on behind the scenes than all the
command officers put together. You'd be amazed at what I
hear here in my little non-descript part of the station.

"My only regret, if I had one, was that I left the
Enterprise. That ship. . . <sigh> I loved that ship. But,
all good things come to an end, I suppose. The little
missus felt it was time to quit traipsing all over the
quadrant and start to put down roots. <laugh> I learned
long ago not to argue with her, just nod and say 'Yes,
dear.'

"There, all done straightening up. Now, what can I do for
you, Mr. Morn? A wax and perhaps a massage? A Betazoid
cucumber peel? 

"Um, are you sure you want that? I mean the
guy in that holo does have a wonderful head of hair, but
I'm not sure a hair transplant of that magnitude would. . .
frame your face in the most flattering light.

"You have, let me see here, one, two, three, four, five,
six. . . six hairs. Hmmmmm Let me think.

"Ah, yes! I know just the thing. You sit back here and let
me wrap this towel around your neck and we'll get you all
spiffied up. 

"Just let me know if this tickles, okay? No, Mr. Morn,
please don't nod your head. Not when you're in the barber's
chair. <laugh>

"And. . . Voila! All done. Just let me get the fava
conditioner. There we go, let me spin you around and look
in the mirror there. Smooth as a baby's bottom, huh? I
swear, you could give Captain Picard or the Emissary a run
for their money, now.

"No, no don't worry about paying me, this one's on the
house. Just be sure to put in a good word for me with all
your friends.

"Yes, come back anytime. It was lovely talking to you!"

THE END

