[ Obviously it would be for the sake of the crew, La'an - who else would benefit from a steady supply of fresh baked cookies readily available for the taking? Certainly not one soon-to-be-first-officer with a sweet tooth.

He notices the stiff shift in her movements and makes a mental note, files it right alongside the one about how even though it must hurt (all of those bruises catching up to her now that the adrenaline must be fully faded) she doesn't comment. Once she's in position properly, he starts on the second half of her hair; taking the time to work at bigger tangles with deft fingers before running the brush through. At her comment he smiles, shakes his head even though it's not a 'no' - it's just that he wasn't lying about the 'it will look like a child did it' promise ]

When we were chasing my father from station to station [ He assumes she remembers the conversation (confession?) they had on the subject - he certainly does ] My mom and Sam and I got close. We were the only familiar people in a lot of different places.

So we'd help with her hair sometimes. Mostly simple things - stuff a kid can handle. A braid down the back, maybe a bun. A ponytail. Pigtails, once, though we couldn't stop laughing and she swore never again--

[ a smile gifted to the back of her head as he recalls the memory ] Can't promise it'll look good, but it won't be my first, at least.