Disclaimer: I do not own Legally Blonde the Musical. So just let me be…legally… BRUNETTE! ~sobs over the fact that I am not blonde like Elle/do not own LBtM~

Hey, everyone! Sorry it took me so long to update (again), but school/life has kept me super-busy and it's finally spring break, which means I had time to write! So, this story is over for good...~sobs~! I'm not going to create a thrid part to this, but let me just say that writing the sequel was a lot of fun and I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed it! Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed last chapter! Review one last time for these stories and make my day! :) Thanks so much to everyone! Till next time!

-ILoVeWicked

Emmett

When Brooke gave birth to Caroline, I distinctly remember that look on her face. The second Brooke laid eyes on her daughter, her tense face softened and her loopy smile would have scared anyone if they didn't know what she was smiling about. It was the same way I smiled at Elle, and the same way my mother used to look at me.

That indescribable look on Brooke's face was the look of true love for her daughter.

It perplexed me, though, that Brooke fell in love so quickly with Caroline. I could not wrap my head around how a screaming, bloody, gooey, infant could make even the unhappiest of people fall back into love. The whole time Elle was pregnant, I often wondered if I would feel that same connection with my kid. After all, it was Elle who had been carrying him around extra long, not me.

As the months drew nearer to the due date, I began to question myself more. Some nights, I even went sleepless tossing and turning over my doubts. Would I be a good father, or would I turn out like the others? My father walked away, Warner walked away…but I didn’t plan on walking away any time soon. But I was Emmett. Worry was my middle name.

Finally, that fateful day came, and the birth of my son, if possible, was longer than Caroline’s had been. Elle sweated and screamed and cursed and grunted her whole way through the entire thing, while I remained unconscious half the time. Since it was my child we were dealing with this time around, I was bound to be a little whoosy. Brooke, Elle’s labor coach while I was knocked out, found the whole thing to be hysterical. Me, Elle, and even Doctor Grosse, wanted this labor to be done and over with as soon as possible, and the jokes was using to enlighten the mood helped absolutely none. I would have kicked her out, but she was too good of a labor coach to get rid of, and who knows how many more times I would faint.

It was when I awoke after an hour long faint that I heard a baby cry. My baby’s cry. I shot up like a bullet, almost knocking over the nurse that had been fanning me off, and darted to Elle’s side. She was breathing heavily. Her eyes were drooping and far off looking as she never took her eyes off of the beautiful baby boy Doctor Grosse was handling, yet somehow, she managed to find my hand and squeeze it with all of the energy she had left.

“We’ve got a son,” she whispered.

“We’ve got a son,” I repeated, following her gaze. Doctor Grosse had finished his business and placed little Evan Christian Forrest (A name Elle had chosen so that we would all have names that started with ‘E’. Christian was her great-uncle’s name.) in my wife’s arms. The doctor announced that he was nine pounds even, my chubby little guy, and sixteen inches. Finally, something I had beaten Brooke at!

Thinking of her, I looked up at Brooke, who had tears streaming down her face. She breathed out a smile and wiped them away, never pulling her gaze away from our fidgeting miracle. “He’s beautiful, you guys!” she cheered quietly. “Congratulations. You both did a great job.”

I smiled myself and noticed that Elle was crying. Tears of joy poured down her sweaty cheeks as she admired our son’s flawless face.

“Hey, Sweetheart, I’m your mommy,” Elle whispered. “And this guy right here,” she continued, yanking my shirt and pulling me closer to her, “is your very caring, amazing, handsome, goofy daddy. And this lady…” She yanked Brooke down to her knees as well. “Is your god-mother, Brooke.”

Brooke looked up at me, her eyebrows knit in confusion. I know she had expected Paulette or Vivienne to be the god-mother of our son, but Elle and I had our reasoning. Someone who had been with us from the very beginning to the end of this pregnancy deserved a special recognition, and I made sure she understood that in my nod.

“And we all love you so, so much little guy!” By that point, I was bawling, too.

That night, after all the visitors had gone and Elle was finally able to get some sleep, I stayed up. I sat in the rocking chair in the corner of the room that Paulette had gotten Kyle to build for us and held my baby boy in my arms.

His pink lip began to quiver, and he began to whimper. I began to panic, but then decided that it would help neither of us if I fainted again. Instead, I just held him up a little closer to my face. Evan began to play with my nose, which meant I was in the clearing.

Brooke was right all along. There was no way to describe true love. It was just one of those things that were too great to decipher. But it wasn’t very difficult to figure out when you were feeling it. It was the best feeling in the world.

I had a son, and it didn’t feel weird at all. There were no nervous feelings, or urges to run away. I wasn’t going anywhere, not when I had the best of friends, an amazing son, and the beautiful, adorable, smart Elle Woods as my wife.

“Hey, Evan,” I whispered, “It’s me, Daddy. I love you and your mom more than words can describe, and I’m going to try my best to never, ever going to let you down as a father.”

LEGALLYBLONDETHEMSUICAL

Before I knew it, Evan was six years old and whirling a baseball in my direction. I caught the ball with my mitt, feeling the smack of the leather against my palm, and threw it back to Evan, who repeated the process. I was glad to see he had taken an interest in baseball rather than chess, which is what I had done at his age.

It was a beautiful spring day outside amongst a weeks-worth of rain, so we had decided to take advantage of the nice weather by having a picnic at Rosalyn Park. Brooke, Elle, and Caroline were setting up the food just a few feet away from us. Aromas of Elle’s cooking haunted my nostrils. Birds were chirping, the sun was shining, children all around us, including Caroline and Evan, were laughing. It was the perfect day.

It was, at least, until my clumsy aim sent the baseball into the bushes, ruining me and Evan’s game of catch. Evan smiled toothily, for he, a klutz as well, understood my pain, and shrugged.

“It’s okay, Daddy, I got it!”

Just as he bounded off toward the trail, a tall blonde girl came riding up on a bright blue bike. Our Red Sox baseball sat in the basket of her bike, which read ‘Angie’ in vibrant pink lettering. I tried to keep my jaw from dropping as the girl tossed the ball back to my son, who thanked her. I knew this girl.

“Angie?” I asked, receiving a skeptic look from the girl. Clearly, the little girl from the Kate and Carl Grey trial had no idea who I was and was in fear for her life. Elle looked up from her spot on the picnic blanket. Her eyes told me that she remembered Angie as well.

I decided to not scare the girl any longer. “You may not remember me…my wife and I were your mother’s lawyer…”

“In the divorce trial,” Angie finished. Her green eyes became excited. “Oh, yeah! I remember you!” She laughed slightly as she propped her bike up on its kickstand. If I was counting correctly, she should have been almost thirteen. “It’s good to see you again!”

“How are your parents?” I asked, feeling obligated to do so. Angie rolled her eyes.

“My parents are…well, my parents. My Bat Mitzvah’s coming up, so they’ve had to spend a little more time together than they wanted.” I grinned in understanding. Angie looked away for a moment and began to staple a flyer to a tree behind Evan. I scanned the flyer, reading that Angie was opening a baby-sitting service in order to earn more money. I sent her a smile.

“You know, the wife and I are headed to an anniversary party tonight, adults only,” I told her, heavily hinting at what I was trying to get at. Angie understood completely and beamed.

“I’ll send Evan over at around seven,” I said with a wink. Angie hopped back on her bike, still grinning. I suppose this was her first gig, though I knew somehow that Evan was in trusted hands. I had always liked little Angie Grey.

“Thanks so much, Mister Forrest!” she called over her shoulder as she rode away. I noted how I hadn’t even said my name once that whole conversation. I guess the people who help you can really make an imprint in your life.

“Dude, what’s wrong?” Brooke asked. “Do I have something in my teeth? You’ve been looking at me weirdly for like three minutes.” I hadn’t realized that. Elle brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes.

“Yeah, me too. Are you okay, honey?” she called. Shrinking into a crimson blush, I shrugged.

“Yeah. Just thinking, that’s all,” I replied.

“Daddy? Daddy! C’mon! Let’s play some more catch!” Evan shouted, already tossing the baseball. I caught it with a flourish and continued with our catch, thinking of just how lucky of a guy I was to have so many people change my life positively.

We had all come so far, and we still had so much more to accomplish, but more or less, we had all found our way.