A/N: Mm. I rewatched Legally Blonde earlier while cleaning, and this little "plot" bunny (no pun intended) wouldn't leave me alone, so here it is.

To my Wicked readers: I'm terribly sorry this isn't an update on For Good, but please bear with me.

Reviews are greatly appreciated :)

Perfectly Imperfect

"Oh… my… God!"

The laugh that had begun to form died in my throat as I was tackled by a blur of pink, transforming into an amused choke. Elle squeezed me before drawing back, letting her head flop back as she let out another squeal of excitement. "Emmett," she cried. "I did it!"

My grin widened. "You really did," I murmured, still in shock. God, she had done it. "You," I said, voicing my thoughts as I spun her around lightly, "were incredible."

She pulled out of my embrace slightly to give me a softer smile. "I couldn't have done it without you," she said, her voice lowering somewhat. "Thank you."

I ducked my head, shaking the thanks off. "I might have given you a push in the right direction," I said, "but it was all you, little Miss Woods comma Elle."

As the nickname passed my lips like a habit, she bit back another grin. Another squeal sang out as she suddenly began twirling around the room like a little girl playing princess.

It was funny how her fairytale had changed so from the first time I'd met her.

I leant back, content just to watch the woman I'd come to respect, admire, and … well, love. She was everything I had ever wanted, and yet nothing like I had expected. She was a contradiction embodied. She was… perfectly imperfect.

My contradiction smiled at me from across the empty courtroom and walked to me once more, enveloping me in a calmer, deeper hug.

Thoughts clouding my mind, I awkwardly turned my head as she drew back, her face tantalizingly close to mine. Was it just my imagination, or was she leaning into me…? I blinked, and suddenly another figure came into view.

Warner. Damnit.

I stepped back from Elle, forcing a smile upon my face even as my stomach dropped. "I think," I murmured, my tongue suddenly lead-heavy, "someone needs to talk to you."

I felt nauseous as she turned, a confused smile lighting her beautiful face as she saw her ex-boyfriend. Almost as if double-taking, she turned to face me again, a silent question in her eyes. I swallowed the bitter taste down and replied. "That's okay, I'm…." My traitorous voice died, fumbling as I saw the hesitancy and hope in her eyes. I redoubled my fake smile. "I'm gonna see you later."

I heard her heels clack across the courtroom to him and wanted to punch something. I was an idiot for ever thinking she could fall for someone like me.

"Elle, to think I didn't take you seriously. I was wrong." I paused in my steps as Warner's voice flitted back to me, taunting in my ears. It took you this long to figure out how amazing she is? I wanted to march back to him, to ask him who the hell he thought he was, to show him what an idiot he was.

And then she spoke. "Oh, Warner."

My steps began again. How could I? She loved him.

Brimming with self-loathing, I forced my way out of the courtroom into the horribly sunny day, ignoring the swarm of reporters getting antsy to see a glimpse of the brilliant law student who had won Wyndham's trial.

"Emmett!" I turned around to see Vivienne heading towards me, hand outstretched, a genuine smile upon her face. Did she have any idea that her fiancé- ex-fiancé, actually, judging by the lack of the usual glints coming from her hand- was inside the courtroom with Elle still? "Congratulations," she said breathlessly as she reached me.

I numbly shook her hand. "Thanks, you too," I said as an awkward smile that I didn't quite believe in formed on my face.

I had begun heading off again when she spoke next. "She's crazy about you, you know."

Well, that made me turn around. Blinking owlishly, I asked, "Who's crazy about me, now?"

"Elle." Her voice was so matter-of-fact, it was almost annoying. Wait- what?

"Elle?" I repeated, an incredulous laugh coming out far more strained than I had planned it. I was nearly choking on hope despite myself. "Why in the world would you think that?"

Vivienne grinned wolfishly. "Trust me," she said, as if it explained everything, walking off with a mysterious smile.

It didn't. …Perhaps she wasn't as bad as I'd thought, though.

My thoughts consumed me as I continued walking along, my pace much more leisurely. I was relieved, confused, and startled when I heard a familiar voice call my name.

"Emmett!" I turned around to see Elle. I shot what I hoped was a casual glance at the woman running towards me, and despite the misery I still felt, a legitimate smile formed on my face.

I hated how she could always do that.

… Who was I kidding? I loved it, like everything else about her.

The smile faltered somewhat as I saw that her mascara had smudged slightly. Had she been crying? I didn't know whether to hope they had been tears of joy or sorrow.

Ugh, I was an ass.

"What did Warner want?" The words tumbled out before I could help it, leaving me to mentally kick myself as they registered. Why, why, why did I ask her that?

She bit her lip, hesitating, almost gauging my expression. That wasn't good. "He…" she paused, looked at me, and then continued again. "He asked me to marry him."

I was going to throw up. No exaggeration, my stomach was churning worse than the time I had eaten pizza dipped in warm orange juice as a dare. I didn't even try to fake a smile (hiding my nausea was hard enough) as I said, "Congratulations."

Elle frowned, silent for a moment. Both of us simply stared at one another, determined to make the other one crack first. She finally crossed her arms, her horribly wonderful eyes still boring into mine, and shot, "You don't seem too sincere."

I snorted, breaking the immature staring game we'd broken into. "Sorry," I said, though I wasn't at all. "I just…"

"You just what?"

I exhaled sharply. Screw it. I obviously wasn't going to be able to deal with it in the near future. "I just thought you had changed."

Her jaw squared, and I internally recoiled. I had definitely pissed her off. "Excuse me?" she asked, her voice colder than I had ever heard it.

"I thought you had changed," I repeated, refusing to back down. "I thought you had decided to make something of your life instead of just fawning over Warner." I sighed. "You deserve better than him."

Her iciness was thawed, somewhat, but still held wariness in it, like the impending threat of hail that just refuses to fall. "Are you mad at me or at Warner, Emmett?" she asked, hitting the nail on the head.

I gaped. What in the world was I supposed to say? "What's that supposed to mean?"

She looked far more hesitant now, but she repeated herself. "Are you mad at me or at Warner, Emmett?"

I floundered for a bit before giving up. "I'm not mad at you," I conceded. "I could never be really mad at you." I snorted bitterly. "Can't really blame Warner, either, even if he is a moron. He's a lucky moron."

Was he imagining the smile he saw beginning to form on her face?

"Emmett, I'm not wearing his ring."

I did a double take, my eyes locking onto the blissfully ring-free hand clutching her purse. Wait. What…? A bubble of hope gripped my heart. Maybe I wasn't too late.

She took another step towards me, closing the distance between us. "I didn't say yes," she said with a shy laugh.

"But… but why? Isn't that what you came to Harvard for?"

The smile was undeniable now, this close up. "It may have been," she murmured, her eyes snapping to meet mine. "But not any more."

I couldn't breathe. What in hell-? I managed to stutter out, "I think-" before she cut me off by placing her finger to my lips.

"You think too much," she said with a grin, pressing her lips to mine.

Oh, my God.