[As Latula's eyes come into focus, she realizes that her flushlove looks almost as ridiculous as she does. She bursts into laughter, one knee drawn up to her chest as she does her best to 'flounce', or whatever it is that girls do when draped in lots of fabric that's the wrong color.]

Me? Have you seen yourself, bumblebee? I mean, you look awesome, but unless we're going strutting down to some weird dance-a-thon where we can jazz it up, this ain't what I'd count as 'fashionable'.

[She mirrors his grin, one hand hooking over the rim of her glasses, pulling them down so she can peer at him, brows arching.]

You gonna tell me that you don't have some grand master plan to get me in a dress? You coulda just asked.