Emma let out a sigh as she fought with her curling iron. Even if it was just Grannies, and she and Regina would have to act under their rules of being nothing more than friends in public, she wanted to show her she had made an effort. That she appreciated the sentiment of it all. Setting the hateful contraption down, she pushed herself up from her chair, stomping downstairs. It was time to call for some reinforcements.
She stood awkwardly beside the kitchen table, where Mary Margaret was diligently working away at marking her students' papers. She cleared her throat a little, waiting for the pixie haired woman to look up.
"Emma, you look lovely!" she exclaimed. "Going somewhere special?"
The blonde fidgeted with her shirt, brushing out imaginary wrinkles. "You think it looks all right?"
Mary Margaret took in the tight black jeans and the crisp red shirt tucked into them. "It certainly does."
"I have a little black blazer to go over it too," Emma went on, still fidgeting. "It's a bit old, but a blazer never looks bad, does it?"
"You look absolutely lovely!" repeated the older woman.
"My hair's a mess!" exclaimed the blonde. "That's actually what I came down here to ask you about. I know you're hair's short and all, but you know how to use a curling iron, right?"
Mary Margaret let out a small chuckle. "Indeed I do. Is this you asking me to do your hair?"
"I just want to look nice for her." The moment the rushed words were out, Emma felt her cheeks redden. She hadn't intended to say exactly who or why she was so dressed up by her standards.
"You're meeting Regina then?" smiled the school teacher.
Emma sighed, nodding. "I don't know why I'm making such a big deal out of this. We're friends, we've hung out at Grannies before."
"But you've never gone on an actual 'date' with her, have you?"
Emma dropped her gaze to the floor. "No."
"Well, you've already made a good start if those flowers you tried to smuggle in subtly earlier are meant for her."