Disclaimer – I own none of the Stargate franchise.

Okay, I was replying to a review YappiChick left me for chapter 6 of Taste of Fears, in which hair is mentioned, and I had the idea for this fic. It's totally crazy. I hope you like it!

The Perfect Look

"It takes a while to create the perfect dreads… I mean, this didn't happen overnight… but once it's done, it's done. And it's totally worth it."

"Well, I –"

"Don't listen to him buddy. I mean, you really want your hair looking like that?"

"Hey!"

"Well, really?"

"There is nothing wrong with dreadlocks. It's better than your hair."

"Hey, no insulting my hair."

"You insulted my hair."

"Alright. You're right. That wasn't cool."

"It's okay."

"Anyway, as I was saying – not that I'm suggesting Ronon's hair isn't great – but like he said it takes a lot of effort to create –"

"I didn't say it took effort. I said it took time."

"Whatever. You've already got the perfect length to follow in my footsteps."

"If we're talking about effort –"

"Yeah but look at the results, Ronon. Some things are just worth taking a little time over. Don't think I can't see you laughing. Don't listen to him – it doesn't take that long to create this look. Besides, there are very few people who can pull it off. I'm one of them, and therefore I owe it to, well, the universe, to make the effort. I think you could pull it off too."

"You think?"

"Totally. Dreadlocks on the other hand…"

"Don't listen to him – it's a good look for anyone. It would look great on you."

"I don't know…"

"Good, I knew you'd see the light. I've got some extra gel if you want to-"

"No – I don't think I want either hairstyle…"

"What?"

"What?"

"What other hairstyle could you possibly want?"

"No one has better hair than us."

"Well, I… um…"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I was talking to Colonel Lorne the other day and –"

"Lorne?! Oh I am so busting his ass back down to Major!"

"He has terrible hair. Nothing hair."

"I dunno… I kind of like it."

"No, you just think you do. Trust me, this is a phase."

"John's right. You'll regret it."

"Maybe, but I think I should try."

"Don't do it. Seriously – you do not want to do this. Tell him John!"

"If… is that what you really want? Really?"

"Yeah. Yeah it is."

"Alright. If you feel that strongly about it, then I'll support you."

"John! No John, don't let him do this!"

"We can't stop him Ronon, as much as we might want to. Sooner or later… sooner or later every bird has to fly the nest."

"This. Is. A. Bad. Idea."

"Ronon – it will be okay."

"It will Ronon. We have to trust him. We're here for you, alright? No matter what you decide."

"Thanks that's… thank you."

"What's going on in here?"

"Teyla!"

"Er, hey…"

"Hi Mom…"

"Hello… what are you all talking about? John?"

"Oh… oh, nothing, really. Just… er… football. And… and wrestling. And drag racing. And, er, weight lifting. And trucks. You know, manly stuff."

"Yeah… er, knives."

"And skateboarding. Without helmets or pads or anything. Extreme skateboarding."

"Yeah."

"Right… I'm just going to… go. I will see you three later."

"Okay."

"Have fun… being manly."

"We always do."

"Bye Mom."

"Phew. That was close."

"Tell me about it."

"Why couldn't we just tell her what we were talking about?"

"Tagan. Tagan Tagan Tagan… okay, no matter what style you decide on, there is one thing you must remember, above all things."

"What?"

"You never let the ladies discover that you actually had to think about it."

"But it was my Mom…"

"That's beside the point."

"Any lady, Tagan. Any at all. Ever. Got it?"

"Yeah. Got it."

The End