fic: don't get many things right the first time (legally blonde, elle/emmett)
Title: don’t get many things right the first time
Author: empressearwig
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with the movie or the musical.
Spoilers: If you’ve seen the musical, you’re fine. Assume this takes place between the end of the trial and before the finale.
Author's Notes: For lapiccolina, who wanted Elle and Emmett and cooking. And thanks to normative_jean for fixing my very bad writing and telling me it isn't very bad writing.
I don't get many things right the first time
In fact, I am told that a lot
Now I know all the wrong turns, the stumbles and falls
Brought me here
And where was I before the day
That I first saw your lovely face?
Now I see it everyday
And I know
That I am
I am, I am
The luckiest
~ Ben Folds, The Luckiest
As Emmett unlocked the door to the apartment he shared with his girlfriend Elle, he was suddenly struck by an odd smell emanating from inside. Cautiously, he pushed the door open, calling out, “Elle? I’m home…”
No sooner had he set down his briefcase, thrown his keys on the sideboard, and shrugged out of his jacket, did Elle popped out from the direction of the apartment’s kitchen.
Emmett stared.
In the place of his normally immaculately-groomed girlfriend stood Elle, dressed in what he recognized as her rattiest jeans, one of his old Harvard Law shirts, and, of all things, an apron. Flour was smudged on her cheek, and splatters of brown streaked her forearms, presumably from some sort of incident with a mixer. Her hair was piled high on her head and her feet were bare revealing her bright pink toenails.
Unperturbed by his silence, Elle finished crossing the hallway, and stood on her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “You’re home! Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetie! Thank you for the flowers.”
“You’re welcome.” Emmett leaned down to briefly kiss her forehead. “What’s all this?” He asked, wiping a thumb across the smudge of flour on her cheek.
Elle beamed. “I made us dinner. I thought it would be a nice surprise.”
Emmett smiled hesitantly. “But I made reservations at Excelsior. I thought you were excited about getting to dress up and go out?”
“Well, I was. But I thought it would be nicer to stay at home. More romantic with just us, you know?” She eyed him quizzically. “You don’t think so?”
Emmett hesitated.
Misinterpreting the silence, Elle took a step back. Hurt laced through her voice, she said, “Oh. Well, then I’m sorry I went to all this trouble.” She started to turn to walk away, calling over her shoulder, “Well, I hope you won’t mind finding your own dinner then. I wouldn’t want to force you to eat something you didn’t want to, after all.”
Confused, Emmett caught her elbow before she could stalk off. Turning her to face him, he said, “Did I say that I didn’t think a meal cooked by the woman I love wouldn’t be a romantic way to spend Valentine’s?”
Elle didn’t answer, keeping her gaze on the nail polish that was starting to chip off her toes.
“Elle.” Emmett lifted her chin with a finger, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Did I?”
“No,” she admitted reluctantly. When she saw Emmett start to reply, she added quickly, “But you didn’t say anything! What was I supposed to think?”
“That I don’t speak quite as quickly as you do?” Emmett teased, a smile on his face. Turning more serious, he asked, “Seriously, what was that about? It’s not like you to overreact to something like that.”
Elle looked sheepish. “Ijustwantedeverytingtobeperfectforourfirstvalentine’sday,” she mumbled.
“Come again?”
“I just wanted everything to be perfect for our first Valentine’s Day,” she enunciated more clearly. She smiled her most winsome smile, the one that made him agree to do anything. “Do you maybe want to start this whole night over?”
Emmett laughed. “That sounds like a fabulous idea. Wait here.” He turned on his heel, walking out the door closing it behind him.
Elle started laughing.
The door opened, and Emmett strode through, a wide smile on his face. “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.” He walked up and kissed her forehead. “Something smells wonderful. Did you cook?”
Elle continued laughing.
Emmett crossed his arms in front of himself, indignant. “Hey, you were the one that wanted to start the night over. What’s so funny?”
Elle took several long breaths, trying to calm herself down. She wiped a stray tear from the corner of her eye, and answered between giggles, “I wasn’t expecting you to take me quite so literally.”
“So you think I’m funny, do you?” A predatory glint lit in Emmett’s eyes. Seeing her nod, he continued, “We’ll see if you think this is funny.”
Moving quickly, he pushed her backwards into the nearest wall, kissing her intensely. Elle wound a hand into his hair, urging him closer, while the other clutched at the back of his suit coat.
For a long moment, all either could concentrate on was the feel of the other’s lips, tongue, and the press of their bodies together. Finally, the need for oxygen forced them apart, and Emmett pulled back resting his forehead against Elle’s. They both struggled to regain their breath, panting lightly.
Emmett regained his voice first. “Not laughing now, are you?” He murmured, beginning to plant soft kisses along Elle’s neck.
“Nooooooo,” Elle gasped out on a low moan.
“Good.” Emmett continued to press kisses along her neck. “Now isn’t this so much better than…” He trailed off suddenly, raising his head.
Elle tried to tug his head back to her neck. “What’s wrong?” She murmured.
Emmett sniffed the air. “Elle, do you smell that?”
Elle sniffed, and her face froze in horror. “Oh my god!” She exclaimed, pushing Emmett aside and running towards the kitchen.
Emmett stared bemusedly after her for a moment, and then followed her into the kitchen.
When he walked in the room, he was met with the sight of the open oven door, smoke billowing out away from what looked like the remains of some sort of cake. Tomato sauce spattered the stove’s hood from wear it had been overheated. The water in the pot where pasta had been boiling was spilled over the edge. Blackened hunks of breaded chicken sat in the sauté pan where they had been cooking in oil.
On the opposite side of the kitchen, the table was covered in a pale pink table cloth, set with the best dishes they owned, the pink roses he’d sent her earlier in the day serving as a centerpiece. A bottle of red wine was open, breathing.
In the middle of the kitchen stood Elle, staring at the remnants of the surprise she’d planned.
He walked up behind her and rested a hand on her shoulder.
She started, spinning to face him. “Oh, Emmett. I’m so sorry.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest.
“Hey, it’s okay.” Emmett stroked his hand down her back, trying to soothe her. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine,” Elle’s muffled voice returned. “I ruined Valentine’s Day.”
“You didn’t ruin Valentine’s Day. We’re together, that’s all that really matters, right?” Emmett tried to pull her back so he could see her face.
“But I was trying to do something nice. And now our dinner is ruined, and we can’t go to the nice dinner you planned because I cancelled the reservations, and this is our first Valentine’s together and it’s ruined,” Elle wailed.
Emmett grasped her shoulders firmly. “Elle. Nothing is ruined. I am going to fix this.” He paused for a moment, considering. “This is what’s going to happen. You are going to go into our bedroom, pamper yourself till I can’t tell you’ve been crying, put on the dress you would have worn if we’d gone to Excelsior and then you are going to come out and we are going to celebrate, okay?”
When she didn’t respond, he said again, “Okay? We’re together Elle. That’s all that matters.”
She finally smiled up at him with tear filled eyes. “You’re right. I’m just being silly.” She leaned up and kissed him softly. “I’m going to go make myself pretty, alright?” She started to walk towards the bedroom.
“Hey, Elle?” Emmett called.
Elle paused, looking back over her shoulder.
“You’re always pretty. You’re always beautiful. You know that, right?”
Elle smiled. “You’re really very sweet sometimes. It’s no wonder that I love you.” She turned and headed into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.
Emmett smiled briefly at the closed door, before turning to survey the disaster on the stove. Sighing he shrugged out of his suit coat, and hung it on the back of a chair. Rolling up his sleeves, he reached for his cell phone, pressing 5 on the speed dial.
“Giorgio’s, Maria speaking, how can I help you?” A voice greeted him.
“Hey Maria, it’s Emmett.”
“Emmett!” Maria answered, happily. “Shouldn’t you and your lady friend be out doing something sickeningly romantic?”
Emmett laughed. “Well, that was the plan. But you know what they say about the best laid plans and all that…”
“True enough. So what can we do for you?”
“I need a favor. Can you have a large pizza, half with everything and half with spinach and extra cheese delivered here as soon as possible? I mean, in under an hour?”
“Of course! But you’re sure you want that for Valentine’s Day? We have a pasta special going.”
Emmett smiled. “No, I’m sure. Thanks so much Maria. Bye.” He hung up the phone.
Turning back to the mess, he shoved the window above the sink open to clear out the remaining smoke odor and started to fill the sink with hot soapy water. Scrapping the remnants of the dinner Elle had made into the garbage, he started plotting how to get everything perfect by the time she emerged from the bedroom.
* * *
An hour later, Elle opened the door of the bedroom and stepped out into the kitchen. She looked around in amazement. All traces of her cooking disaster had been scrubbed clean. Candles were lit on the table and soft music was coming from the living room.
“Emmett?” She called out.
He walked down the hall from the direction of the living room. When he got to the kitchen and saw her, he stopped abruptly and stared. Shaking his head, he said, “Wow. You look absolutely amazing.”
Elle laughed. “What, this old thing?” She twirled for effect. “I thought you might like it.” She crossed the room and reached for him, smoothing down the lapels of his suit coat. “You know, you look pretty snazzy yourself. Awfully handsome.”
“Hm, I wonder who picked out my clothes,” Emmett teased. He moved her arm’s length away. “Seriously though, just let me look at you for a moment.”
Elle was wearing a knee-length, pale pink dress with spaghetti straps. The bodice clung tightly and the skirt fanned out, as if designed to be worn while being twirled on a dance floor. Her hair curled softly around her face, and diamonds winked at her ears.
After a moment, Elle started to fidget. “Emmett, what are you…” She was cut off by Emmett pulling her back to him and kissing her softly. When they parted, she said, “Hi there.”
Emmett laughed himself. “I’m sorry, I just wonder sometimes how someone who looks like you winds up with someone who looks like me.” He kissed her again. “Now, are you ready to celebrate Valentine’s Day?”
“Of course.” Emmett escorted her to the table, pulling out her chair. Elle took a seat and Emmett pushed her in lightly. She asked, “So how did you end up fixing my disaster?”
“We’ll get to that,” Emmett said mysteriously. He reached for something sitting on his chair. “First presents.” He took a seat, and handed her a slim velvet covered box.
“Emmett, you shouldn’t have,” Elle scolded, taking the box from him.
“But you’re secretly glad I did, right?” Emmett teased. “Go on, open it.”
Elle shot him a look, and pried open the box. In it, a tennis bracelet of alternating pink and blue sapphires winked up at her. “Emmett…” Elle breathed. “It’s beautiful.” She pulled it from the box and handed it to him. “Put it on for me please?”
“Do you like it?” Emmett asked, as he fastened the bracelet around her wrist. He fiddled with it idly, holding onto her hand.
Elle smiled at him. “I love it. It’s navy and pink. How could I not I not love it?” She shook her head at him. “You’re very sweet sometimes, you know that?”
“I do.” Emmett kissed her hand and released it. “Now, do you want dinner?” He rose and crossed the room.
“Of course.” Elle looked around the kitchen. “Do you have it hidden somewhere else? I don’t see anything…” She trailed off, seeing Emmett pull something from the oven. When he turned around, she started laughing.
Emmett walked over to the table, placing the pizza pan on the table. “What, you don’t think pizza is a good way to celebrate the most romantic day of the year? Imagine my surprise,” he teased. Taking his seat, he said, “I suggest you take a closer look.”
“It’s pizza, Emmett. I see you go my favorite, but…”she paused. She looked at the pizza and then up at the slight smile on Emmett’s face. Slowly, she said, “This is what we had on our first real date. This is from where we had our first date.” She smiled up at him. “You really are very sweet sometimes.”
Emmett laughed. “Well, short notice and all that. Best I could do.” He reached towards the pizza. “Do you want to continue the charade that we’re doing a formal dinner and have me serve you, or do you want to just have fun?”
“Have fun.” Elle reached for the pizza herself. Setting a slice down on her plate, she looked up at Emmett. “I love you, you know.”
“I know.” Emmett reached across the table and grabbed her hand. “And I love you. Happy Valentine’s Day, Elle.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Emmett.”
They smiled at each other. Letting go of each other’s hands, they each picked up a slice of pizza and began to eat.
Author: empressearwig
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with the movie or the musical.
Spoilers: If you’ve seen the musical, you’re fine. Assume this takes place between the end of the trial and before the finale.
Author's Notes: For lapiccolina, who wanted Elle and Emmett and cooking. And thanks to normative_jean for fixing my very bad writing and telling me it isn't very bad writing.
I don't get many things right the first time
In fact, I am told that a lot
Now I know all the wrong turns, the stumbles and falls
Brought me here
And where was I before the day
That I first saw your lovely face?
Now I see it everyday
And I know
That I am
I am, I am
The luckiest
~ Ben Folds, The Luckiest
As Emmett unlocked the door to the apartment he shared with his girlfriend Elle, he was suddenly struck by an odd smell emanating from inside. Cautiously, he pushed the door open, calling out, “Elle? I’m home…”
No sooner had he set down his briefcase, thrown his keys on the sideboard, and shrugged out of his jacket, did Elle popped out from the direction of the apartment’s kitchen.
Emmett stared.
In the place of his normally immaculately-groomed girlfriend stood Elle, dressed in what he recognized as her rattiest jeans, one of his old Harvard Law shirts, and, of all things, an apron. Flour was smudged on her cheek, and splatters of brown streaked her forearms, presumably from some sort of incident with a mixer. Her hair was piled high on her head and her feet were bare revealing her bright pink toenails.
Unperturbed by his silence, Elle finished crossing the hallway, and stood on her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “You’re home! Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetie! Thank you for the flowers.”
“You’re welcome.” Emmett leaned down to briefly kiss her forehead. “What’s all this?” He asked, wiping a thumb across the smudge of flour on her cheek.
Elle beamed. “I made us dinner. I thought it would be a nice surprise.”
Emmett smiled hesitantly. “But I made reservations at Excelsior. I thought you were excited about getting to dress up and go out?”
“Well, I was. But I thought it would be nicer to stay at home. More romantic with just us, you know?” She eyed him quizzically. “You don’t think so?”
Emmett hesitated.
Misinterpreting the silence, Elle took a step back. Hurt laced through her voice, she said, “Oh. Well, then I’m sorry I went to all this trouble.” She started to turn to walk away, calling over her shoulder, “Well, I hope you won’t mind finding your own dinner then. I wouldn’t want to force you to eat something you didn’t want to, after all.”
Confused, Emmett caught her elbow before she could stalk off. Turning her to face him, he said, “Did I say that I didn’t think a meal cooked by the woman I love wouldn’t be a romantic way to spend Valentine’s?”
Elle didn’t answer, keeping her gaze on the nail polish that was starting to chip off her toes.
“Elle.” Emmett lifted her chin with a finger, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Did I?”
“No,” she admitted reluctantly. When she saw Emmett start to reply, she added quickly, “But you didn’t say anything! What was I supposed to think?”
“That I don’t speak quite as quickly as you do?” Emmett teased, a smile on his face. Turning more serious, he asked, “Seriously, what was that about? It’s not like you to overreact to something like that.”
Elle looked sheepish. “Ijustwantedeverytingtobeperfectforourfirstvalentine’sday,” she mumbled.
“Come again?”
“I just wanted everything to be perfect for our first Valentine’s Day,” she enunciated more clearly. She smiled her most winsome smile, the one that made him agree to do anything. “Do you maybe want to start this whole night over?”
Emmett laughed. “That sounds like a fabulous idea. Wait here.” He turned on his heel, walking out the door closing it behind him.
Elle started laughing.
The door opened, and Emmett strode through, a wide smile on his face. “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.” He walked up and kissed her forehead. “Something smells wonderful. Did you cook?”
Elle continued laughing.
Emmett crossed his arms in front of himself, indignant. “Hey, you were the one that wanted to start the night over. What’s so funny?”
Elle took several long breaths, trying to calm herself down. She wiped a stray tear from the corner of her eye, and answered between giggles, “I wasn’t expecting you to take me quite so literally.”
“So you think I’m funny, do you?” A predatory glint lit in Emmett’s eyes. Seeing her nod, he continued, “We’ll see if you think this is funny.”
Moving quickly, he pushed her backwards into the nearest wall, kissing her intensely. Elle wound a hand into his hair, urging him closer, while the other clutched at the back of his suit coat.
For a long moment, all either could concentrate on was the feel of the other’s lips, tongue, and the press of their bodies together. Finally, the need for oxygen forced them apart, and Emmett pulled back resting his forehead against Elle’s. They both struggled to regain their breath, panting lightly.
Emmett regained his voice first. “Not laughing now, are you?” He murmured, beginning to plant soft kisses along Elle’s neck.
“Nooooooo,” Elle gasped out on a low moan.
“Good.” Emmett continued to press kisses along her neck. “Now isn’t this so much better than…” He trailed off suddenly, raising his head.
Elle tried to tug his head back to her neck. “What’s wrong?” She murmured.
Emmett sniffed the air. “Elle, do you smell that?”
Elle sniffed, and her face froze in horror. “Oh my god!” She exclaimed, pushing Emmett aside and running towards the kitchen.
Emmett stared bemusedly after her for a moment, and then followed her into the kitchen.
When he walked in the room, he was met with the sight of the open oven door, smoke billowing out away from what looked like the remains of some sort of cake. Tomato sauce spattered the stove’s hood from wear it had been overheated. The water in the pot where pasta had been boiling was spilled over the edge. Blackened hunks of breaded chicken sat in the sauté pan where they had been cooking in oil.
On the opposite side of the kitchen, the table was covered in a pale pink table cloth, set with the best dishes they owned, the pink roses he’d sent her earlier in the day serving as a centerpiece. A bottle of red wine was open, breathing.
In the middle of the kitchen stood Elle, staring at the remnants of the surprise she’d planned.
He walked up behind her and rested a hand on her shoulder.
She started, spinning to face him. “Oh, Emmett. I’m so sorry.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest.
“Hey, it’s okay.” Emmett stroked his hand down her back, trying to soothe her. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine,” Elle’s muffled voice returned. “I ruined Valentine’s Day.”
“You didn’t ruin Valentine’s Day. We’re together, that’s all that really matters, right?” Emmett tried to pull her back so he could see her face.
“But I was trying to do something nice. And now our dinner is ruined, and we can’t go to the nice dinner you planned because I cancelled the reservations, and this is our first Valentine’s together and it’s ruined,” Elle wailed.
Emmett grasped her shoulders firmly. “Elle. Nothing is ruined. I am going to fix this.” He paused for a moment, considering. “This is what’s going to happen. You are going to go into our bedroom, pamper yourself till I can’t tell you’ve been crying, put on the dress you would have worn if we’d gone to Excelsior and then you are going to come out and we are going to celebrate, okay?”
When she didn’t respond, he said again, “Okay? We’re together Elle. That’s all that matters.”
She finally smiled up at him with tear filled eyes. “You’re right. I’m just being silly.” She leaned up and kissed him softly. “I’m going to go make myself pretty, alright?” She started to walk towards the bedroom.
“Hey, Elle?” Emmett called.
Elle paused, looking back over her shoulder.
“You’re always pretty. You’re always beautiful. You know that, right?”
Elle smiled. “You’re really very sweet sometimes. It’s no wonder that I love you.” She turned and headed into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.
Emmett smiled briefly at the closed door, before turning to survey the disaster on the stove. Sighing he shrugged out of his suit coat, and hung it on the back of a chair. Rolling up his sleeves, he reached for his cell phone, pressing 5 on the speed dial.
“Giorgio’s, Maria speaking, how can I help you?” A voice greeted him.
“Hey Maria, it’s Emmett.”
“Emmett!” Maria answered, happily. “Shouldn’t you and your lady friend be out doing something sickeningly romantic?”
Emmett laughed. “Well, that was the plan. But you know what they say about the best laid plans and all that…”
“True enough. So what can we do for you?”
“I need a favor. Can you have a large pizza, half with everything and half with spinach and extra cheese delivered here as soon as possible? I mean, in under an hour?”
“Of course! But you’re sure you want that for Valentine’s Day? We have a pasta special going.”
Emmett smiled. “No, I’m sure. Thanks so much Maria. Bye.” He hung up the phone.
Turning back to the mess, he shoved the window above the sink open to clear out the remaining smoke odor and started to fill the sink with hot soapy water. Scrapping the remnants of the dinner Elle had made into the garbage, he started plotting how to get everything perfect by the time she emerged from the bedroom.
* * *
An hour later, Elle opened the door of the bedroom and stepped out into the kitchen. She looked around in amazement. All traces of her cooking disaster had been scrubbed clean. Candles were lit on the table and soft music was coming from the living room.
“Emmett?” She called out.
He walked down the hall from the direction of the living room. When he got to the kitchen and saw her, he stopped abruptly and stared. Shaking his head, he said, “Wow. You look absolutely amazing.”
Elle laughed. “What, this old thing?” She twirled for effect. “I thought you might like it.” She crossed the room and reached for him, smoothing down the lapels of his suit coat. “You know, you look pretty snazzy yourself. Awfully handsome.”
“Hm, I wonder who picked out my clothes,” Emmett teased. He moved her arm’s length away. “Seriously though, just let me look at you for a moment.”
Elle was wearing a knee-length, pale pink dress with spaghetti straps. The bodice clung tightly and the skirt fanned out, as if designed to be worn while being twirled on a dance floor. Her hair curled softly around her face, and diamonds winked at her ears.
After a moment, Elle started to fidget. “Emmett, what are you…” She was cut off by Emmett pulling her back to him and kissing her softly. When they parted, she said, “Hi there.”
Emmett laughed himself. “I’m sorry, I just wonder sometimes how someone who looks like you winds up with someone who looks like me.” He kissed her again. “Now, are you ready to celebrate Valentine’s Day?”
“Of course.” Emmett escorted her to the table, pulling out her chair. Elle took a seat and Emmett pushed her in lightly. She asked, “So how did you end up fixing my disaster?”
“We’ll get to that,” Emmett said mysteriously. He reached for something sitting on his chair. “First presents.” He took a seat, and handed her a slim velvet covered box.
“Emmett, you shouldn’t have,” Elle scolded, taking the box from him.
“But you’re secretly glad I did, right?” Emmett teased. “Go on, open it.”
Elle shot him a look, and pried open the box. In it, a tennis bracelet of alternating pink and blue sapphires winked up at her. “Emmett…” Elle breathed. “It’s beautiful.” She pulled it from the box and handed it to him. “Put it on for me please?”
“Do you like it?” Emmett asked, as he fastened the bracelet around her wrist. He fiddled with it idly, holding onto her hand.
Elle smiled at him. “I love it. It’s navy and pink. How could I not I not love it?” She shook her head at him. “You’re very sweet sometimes, you know that?”
“I do.” Emmett kissed her hand and released it. “Now, do you want dinner?” He rose and crossed the room.
“Of course.” Elle looked around the kitchen. “Do you have it hidden somewhere else? I don’t see anything…” She trailed off, seeing Emmett pull something from the oven. When he turned around, she started laughing.
Emmett walked over to the table, placing the pizza pan on the table. “What, you don’t think pizza is a good way to celebrate the most romantic day of the year? Imagine my surprise,” he teased. Taking his seat, he said, “I suggest you take a closer look.”
“It’s pizza, Emmett. I see you go my favorite, but…”she paused. She looked at the pizza and then up at the slight smile on Emmett’s face. Slowly, she said, “This is what we had on our first real date. This is from where we had our first date.” She smiled up at him. “You really are very sweet sometimes.”
Emmett laughed. “Well, short notice and all that. Best I could do.” He reached towards the pizza. “Do you want to continue the charade that we’re doing a formal dinner and have me serve you, or do you want to just have fun?”
“Have fun.” Elle reached for the pizza herself. Setting a slice down on her plate, she looked up at Emmett. “I love you, you know.”
“I know.” Emmett reached across the table and grabbed her hand. “And I love you. Happy Valentine’s Day, Elle.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Emmett.”
They smiled at each other. Letting go of each other’s hands, they each picked up a slice of pizza and began to eat.