I do not own Legally Blonde, any of the characters, or song lyrics. I only own this story :)

A/N: Hello all, just something I thought of after seeing Legally Blonde the musical and loving it! The story starts in the middle of the scene where Callahan kisses Elle, actually right when he does it! Except that here, everything changes from that point on. Rated M for mature themes and situations because the entire story is based on one, and the musical/ movie were pretty mature in the first place. Also some language. I know most of it is going to be creepy-ish because (spoiler alert :P) Elle sleeps with Callahan, but this is definitely not one of those stories that describes everything in gory detail. It's more focused on Elle's emotional journey, an alternate ending experience, and tons of Emmett/Elle action! 3 I hope you enjoy, and pleasepleaseplease review! PS Sorry if it's slightly OOC at times, I try my best to capture the characters!

Professor Callahan leans in. And then he grabs my chin with both hands and pulls me into him, his lips connecting with mine forcibly.

I turn rigid, like ice, feeling cold surprise and horror. My hands shove him away automatically, and he lets go of my face abruptly.

I raise my hand to hit him, but it won't move. Everything fades away- Callahan breathing beside me, the hard desk beneath my legs. My mind crystallizes, sharpening my senses, and I think frantically- because I understand what's happening. Time has stopped, just long enough for me to make a decision. But about what?

All I can focus on now is the feeling of my heart dropping steadily farther into my chest. Professor Callahan kissed me. Why would he do that, unless he thought I wouldn't object. My final realization fills me with burning humiliation. He thought I wouldn't object. And it doesn't take long to unravel that mystery. He thinks I'm sleeping my way to the top.

I want the strange time-warp to stop, because I can't wait to hit the bastard. After everything, all the books and sleepless nights and concessions to fashion- after all of that, this man doesn't believe that I did it myself. He thinks that I have to rely on my body to achieve anything. Well he's wrong. And he can go to hell.

But the ethereal standstill doesn't stop. Instead, I'm kept in time stasis, boiling over with anger, and utterly confused.

Am I unconscious? Hallucinating?

I don't see how I could have fainted in the few seconds between staring into Callahan's lust-filled eyes and shoving him away.

His eyes told me more than I wanted to know. That he believed he had found an ambitious new sex toy to play with, and was excited to get started. That that's all he saw when he looked at me. And that when he wanted that from someone, he got it. Always.

I know what I have to do. I have to leave, with what's left of my dignity. How could I have been so stupid, to think that I was actually doing this right? Of course I wasn't. Of course nothing about me will ever be good enough except for my looks. It was stupid to believe that could ever change.

That means my law career is over. If it ever even started. That means that I'll have to go home, say goodbye to Emmett, and abandon helping the underdog. Abandon everything I've worked for and wanted, and face reality- I'm just a blonde. 'Legally' was just an adverb to make me more accessible to the law-school predators.

I laugh bitterly. I should be happy. I've moved on to bigger fish- forget beach bum stalkers, I've got stalkers with higher education now.

The joke doesn't work to cheer me up. Instead, I keep thinking about Harvard- everything I'll have to say goodbye to. Even if my success was all a lie, I'm still going to miss the place. And especially Emmett.

I feel a tear rolling down my cheek. I'm not ready to say goodbye to Emmett. I don't think I ever will be, but now I'll be forced to leave him behind more quickly than I'd ever imagined. Damn Callahan will steal him from me.

Suddenly I don't want to play into his hands. I don't want to give him that control. I want to keep Emmett, I want to keep Harvard and I want to keep feeling that high after helping people with law. And who the hell is this man to crush all of that?

"There's no way. There's no way to keep it all without giving him what he wants," I say out loud. "Come on!" I growl at myself, not ready to give up. "THINK!"

But my mind doesn't divulge any epiphanies. In fact, it stays very silent. I stare listlessly at the wall of the office, knowing I've lost. There's nothing else to consider. Either I lose Harvard, Emmett, and my passion, or I lose my dignity, independence, and morals. A simple choice, right?

An image of Emmett flashes before my eyes. He's smiling, like he always does, laughing and teasing me, reaching out to me to push a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers brush my shoulder lightly and linger at my collarbone. He traces the edge of the bone with a feather light touch, pinning me down with his warm gaze so that I can't move an inch. All I can do is watch him, and breath him in. I feel a swell of happiness in my throat and chest, and I want to move closer to him. I want to touch him too.

I startle, the mirage gone. Shoving my head into my hands I groan. A fantasy inside a magical standstill? I'm going crazy. But... If crazy involves dreams of kissing Emmett, I think I might like it. Which means I would LOVE insane.

What am I even doing? Emmett is my best friend. He's not... Kissing... But... For the first time, I want him to be more than just a friend. Like... REALLY want him to be.

I love him. I... love him. I love him.

So the simple choice has changed. Love and passion vs. dignity and virtue.

Well. Dignity... I'd be a horrible person if I chose my own pride over love. And virtue... People sin all the time. They go against everything they believe in with ease. If they can, I can. I just have to grit my teeth.

Really, there isn't a choice. I've always been a sucker for love. Love is my driving force.

And right now, it's driving me into the arms of my college law professor. So that I can sleep with him just to be with a different man.

It's horrible. Ridiculous. But I'm not stupid. It's the only way.

I gasp as color and movement come rushing back, until the desk and the man beside me reform. My hand is back where it was- suspended in the air, recoiling from shoving Callahan and on its way back to hit him.

A single tear rolls down my cheek and bile rises in my throat. But my respite from real time has ended, and I have no time to reconsider. How I respond to him in these few seconds will determine everything. No redos. And I've made my choice .

I fight back the disgust in my mind, repelling me from him, and stretch my hand out to his chest. This single motion seems painful- the air between me and him seems actually resistant. But I continue to extend my arm. Saying one last goodbye to my dignity, and to my soul, I clutch the tight fabric of his shirt in my fist.

For love. I'm doing it for love.

The rest of my body follows, until I'm immersed in him, twisting fabric and hair through my fingers and exploring the deepest recesses of his mouth with my tongue.

Thank you so much for reading!