#mirandy week

She drifted for a long while, not quite awake and not quite asleep for a good while, basking in the warmth of her two lovers wrapped around her. She’d never tell either of them, but she rather enjoyed when it was her turn to sleep in the middle. Instead she complained about being confined, about being too hot, anything that came to mind. Andrea, she thought, was on to her deception. Cruella didn’t care, she just rolled her eyes at Miranda and pinned her down to the bed, snuggling to her side and immediately falling asleep.

Miranda’s eyes finally blinked open as the first rays of sun entered their bedroom. She wouldn’t be able to find sleep again now that it was truly light out. As much as she was enjoying just laying between her two sleeping lovers, it was time to get up and start the day. Miranda looked between Andrea and Cruella, assessing which one would be the easiest to get past. Andrea, most assuredly. Cruella had a nasty habit of spreading her legs out over the entire bed if she could get the room. She unwrapped a various sundry of body parts from around her before gently climbing over Andrea. The two still asleep only stirred a little bit, scooting towards the middle of the bed now that the heat was gone from beside them. Immediately they curled around the other and settled again. Miranda felt her heart swell looking down at the two of them, peaceful in sleep and so very beautiful. She stood and watched them sleep for a few minutes before setting off to get ready for the day.

She showered, enjoying the hot water cascading down her back, letting the showerhead massage any and all kinks out of her muscles. She sighed as she got out, towel drying before slipping into her favorite grey robe. She stroked the worn fabric thoughtfully as she started to style her hair for the day. Paris, as sharp a memory as it was, was both an end and a beginning, not that she had known it at the time, sitting in her suite in Paris in this exact robe. She wouldn’t have believed that divorce would lead her to this even if someone had told her back then.

She smoothed on a light coating of makeup and walked from the bathroom and into the closet. Miranda scowled as yet again the place was mess. No matter how many times she lectured Cruella, she never managed to get it through her thick skull that organization was next to godliness. At least she did take care of couture as it should be, but shoes were mismatched and skirts were hanging where blouses should be and everything in-between. Miranda let it go for now. Their housekeeper would be in tomorrow and would reorganize everything how Miranda liked it. It wasn’t worth the drama or effort for the time being.

A casual outfit of designer jeans and a blouse was pulled on, something only reserved for Sundays. When she was done she walked back into their room; it was truly starting to brighten up. Andrea would be up within the hour, though Cruella wouldn’t stir until the scent of coffee reached her. The girls similarly would wake up to the smell of food. Since Andrea had long ago claimed ownership of cooking Sunday breakfast, Miranda smiled and walked from the room into her study. While the others slept she could do a bit of work so she wouldn’t worry about it later. She grabbed her laptop and walked into the kitchen. She sat down on one of the barstools that lined one side of the kitchen island and set to work, answering a few emails.

As predicted she heard the sounds of stirring less than an hour later. The shower turned on after the sound of footsteps from above. The other woman walked into the kitchen thirty minutes later, wet hair braided down her back, leaving a wet spot at the tip of the braid. Andrea smiled at Miranda and walked over to kiss her. Miranda sighed into the kiss and allowed her arms to come around the other woman’s waist.

Andrea pulled back after a minute, a little dazed smile on her face. “Good morning to you, too.” She laughed and stepped out of Miranda’s embrace.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Mmm, of course. I always sleep well when you both are here.”

Miranda nodded. She did as well of course. “Well, I believe Cruella has plans to stay indefinitely if her rather public announcement is anything to go by.” The week before the woman, brash as always, had responded to rumors that she was sleeping with Andrea behind Miranda’s back with the fact that she was sleeping with both of them. Immediately she had come to the townhouse for one of their dates and the paparazzi had showed up fifteen minutes later. A day after that Cruella had practically moved in, though for all intents and purposes she almost had been before. Two weeks had passed in a haze of picture hounds and waking up constantly surrounded by her lovers. Miranda, of course, couldn’t quite decide how she felt about everything just yet. She supposed it would depend on how the rest of the news coverage about their relationship went. Though, really, she couldn’t begrudge being with Cruella and Andrea everyday even if they were truly nasty.

Andrea smiled again, brighter than the sun. “Yeah,” she breathed out like she was giving thanks to the gods above. She shook her head just a bit. “What should I fix for breakfast today?”

Miranda just cocked an eyebrow.

“Right, ok, so spinach, tomato, and feta omelet for you, that’s a given, but I meant for the rest of us who like ungodly amounts of food once a week.”

“Well, I believe the twins were talking about your French toast earlier in the week.”

The other woman nodded. “Right, right. We haven’t had that in a while. Good idea.” Andrea set right to preparing the meal, putting the coffee on first so Cruella might drag herself out of bed before the food got cold.

Miranda worked on the last of her emails while Andrea focused on the food. She found herself more than a little distracted by the movements of the other woman. An old college t-shirt and a pair of jeans old enough that Miranda wouldn’t even allow the other woman to garden in them shouldn’t be attractive, but god somehow Andrea made it work. Andrea smiled as she caught Miranda staring. Miranda glared back at the smile, but there was no real venom in the look and the woman laughed merrily before turning back to the food cooking on the stove.

Miranda finally finished up the last email and shut her computer just as the sound of heels sounded on the stairs. Andrea turned and smiled over Miranda’s shoulder. Miranda glanced behind her to see a perfectly put together Cruella De Vil standing there with a smirk on her face. She walked across the room and kissed Andrea good morning before circling back around to kiss Miranda. Cruella, as always, took things a bit farther than a good morning kiss warranted. Miranda was infinitely glad that she had forgone lipstick for the morning.

Cruella stepped back and went to fix both her and Miranda a cup of coffee. She walked back over, balancing the almost overflowing cups effortlessly even while on five inch heels. She set Miranda’s coffee down before taking a seat right beside her. Cruella reached out and took Miranda’s free hand in her own, holding it as they both sipped their coffee and watched their other lover finish up the food.

“Do you think those vultures will still be outside, darling?” Cruella asked once an entire cup of coffee was in her system. She wasn’t much for conversation before caffeine, unless the conversation consisted of hellacious shrieking.

“Of course. No one else even mildly famous has done anything more newsworthy than the Dragon Lady and the Devil herself shacking up with an impressionable young woman,” Miranda deadpanned.

Cruella frowned. “How…unfortunate. The girls and I wanted to go to the park today. There’s an art fair there later, but if those idiots will be following us around it might not be worth it.” A wicked glint entered her eyes. “Or perhaps it’s perfect.”

“Cruella, don’t get yourself arrested,” Andy said, plating a heaping mess of French toast.

“More importantly don’t get the girls involved.” Miranda glared, putting the fullest force behind the look. It wouldn’t affect Cruella, of course, since she was rather insane at points, but she’d be damned if she didn’t try.

“Don’t be ridiculous, darling, we won’t do anything illegal. Besides, it’s not like the police would take the side of the paparazzi, not against you or I.” She waved off the concern as if it meant nothing at all.

Miranda resisted the urge to put her head in her hands. She just knew that later in the day mischief was going to happen and Cruella would be at the head of it, as was happening more and more. The twins had been overtaken as troublemakers extraordinaire, it seemed. The fact that it was grown woman replacing them was more than a little worrying, but she had known what she was getting into when she agreed to all of this.

“I do believe in the case of assault or murder it wouldn’t matter who we were, dear.”

Cruella sat back with an incredulous expression on her face. “Who said anything about assault or murder?”

“I never know with you.”

Andrea snorted. “Come on, you two, call for the twins and help me carry all of this to the table.”

Miranda stood, shoved a bowl of fruit salad into Cruella’s hands and walked up the stairs to rouse the girls. Caroline was sitting on her bed just pulling on her shoes. She greeted her mother with a hug and shot down the stairs at the mention of breakfast. Miranda was infinitely grateful that she channeled a great amount of her extra energy into sports or she would positively bounce off the walls. Cassidy was a harder case to wake. Miranda sat on the edge of her bed and rubbed her back until the girl opened her eyes.

“Mmm, morning mom. Breakfast ready?”

“Yes, Bobbsey, Andrea made French toast this morning.”

“Awesome.” Cassidy yawned. “I’ll get dressed and be down in a minute.”

Miranda stood and waited until Cassidy was actually up out of bed before leaving the room. The more subdued of her twins had a bad habit of falling right back asleep if she didn’t get out of bed right after being woken up.

Miranda came back downstairs to find the table set, Cruella on her second cup of coffee which Miranda thought she rather didn’t need, and Andrea plating what looked like a perfectly done omelet on a dinner plate beside a smaller plate with half a piece of French toast covered in powdered sugar. Miranda huffed at the piece of offending food, but as soon as she sat down she sliced off a bite, much to the amusement of the other three at the table. Andrea really did know her too well it seemed.

Cassidy came into the dining room a few minutes later, dressed, but still with the impression of being sleep rumpled. She sat down beside her sister where Cruella immediately handed her a cup of coffee that was more milk than anything. She really doubted her thirteen year old needed coffee, either, but she and Cruella had had this fight before and it did seem to wake Cassidy up in a timely manner. She had enough of a victory just getting Cruella to put more milk than coffee in the cup.

“So, dear hearts, do you still want to go to the art fair later?” Cruella asked, carving off a slice of French toast that was just barely small enough to fit in her mouth. The woman had been bred to have fine table manners, but at home that seemed to go all out the window.

Both twins looked up and nodded, glints of excitement in their eyes. “Yeah, I want to see if I can find something to give Fiona for her birthday that she doesn’t already have,” Caroline said.

“And art fairs are good place to find interesting supplies.” Cassidy was practically bouncing in her seat, thought Miranda wasn’t sure if that was from the excitement of prospective art supplies or the caffeine.

“Wonderful.” Cruella smiled the soft smile that only her family saw. “Then we shall have a great time.” She turned her gaze on Andrea and Miranda. “Would you two like to come along as well?”

Miranda glanced at Andrea. They silently communicated for just a second, checking what the other wanted before responding. Miranda wanted to spend time with the girls, but she also knew it was important for Cruella to spend time with them on her own, but the paparazzi was still crawling around them and god knew what the rather volatile woman would do about that. Miranda was still more than a little wary about her comment earlier in the day.

“I think that would be lovely,” Miranda said, her silent communication with Andrea finished.

The girls cheered and Cruella smiled, reaching out to take one hand of each of her lovers. “Brilliant. It will be a family outing then.” Her eyes took on a mischievous look. For that alone Miranda was glad that she had agreed to come along. She would rather Cruella not end up in jail.

They finished up their breakfast, idle chatter flowing between them easily. Miranda stood to help Andrea with the cleanup of the breakfast dishes while Cruella and twins disappeared upstairs. Miranda was unnerved at the silence as the dishwasher was loaded and the larger pans scrubbed, dried and put away. She looked over at Andrea with her eyebrow cocked. Andrea just smiled and shook her head. She walked over and pinned Miranda against the counter, hips pressing into Miranda’s own rather deliciously. Miranda practically purred as plump lips found her own, kissing her until oxygen ran out. Andrea pulled back just enough to set her head in the crook of Miranda’s neck. Miranda rubbed up and down the other woman’s back with a gentle touch, loving the gentle shivers that her touch evoked.

“She would never get the girls in too much trouble,” Andrea said, lips moving against Miranda’s skin, tickling just slightly.

Miranda held back the most undignified giggle at the sensation. She sighed, Andrea was right. Cruella could do some rather unadvised things, but she did love the girls enough to check that impulse. That didn’t mean that Miranda wasn’t free to worry, though. “Fine, fine, but if we end up the partners of a convict and the parents of juvenile delinquents, will I really need to say I told you so?”

Andrea laughed. “You won’t, but you will anyway.” She stepped back and looked down at her attire. “But I need to go change because someone I know won’t let me out of the house looking like this.”

Miranda scoffed. “You say that like it’s only me. Cruella would rather hate anyone getting to see you like this, for different reasons, but does it really matter so long as you don’t leave the house like that?”

Andrea rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. “It’s like you think I learned nothing during my time at Runway.”

Miranda ran her eyes up and down Andrea, eyes widening just slightly. “Sometimes it seems like it.”

“Uh huh, like I don’t know about the yoga pants you keep around for long nights.”

Miranda blushed just slightly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Well, I do, because your ass looks sinful in them.” She fanned herself jokingly before starting to back from the room. “Just like I know you love how my legs look in these jeans.”

She laughed as Miranda tried to sputter out a denial, and left the room. Miranda shook her head and chuckled to herself. She didn’t know what she was going to do with that woman. A loud thump came from the upper floors and she knew Cruella and the girls were behind it. She didn’t know what she was going to do with that woman either, and yet. She continued to smile as she walked across the room and gathered her computer up. She returned it to the study and climbed the stairs to their bedroom.

Andrea was slipping into another pair of jeans, allowing Miranda a rather generous view of a toned ass and thighs. Her mouth watered, but she shook herself out of it. There would time later tonight for such things. Instead she walked into their closet and picked out a pair of more practical shoes, more practical meaning a low three inch heel instead of her normal four or five. Andrea snickered at her footwear, strapping on a pair of designer running shoes for their outing instead.

“Laugh as you will, but we both know that the ass you like so much looks like it does because of heels.”

Andrea stood up and stretched for a short second, shirt riding up to show just a strip of pale skin. “True, that and yoga, but they didn’t hurt at all.”

Another thump came from the floor above. They both looked up and then at each other. “What in the world are they doing?” Miranda asked.

“No idea. We should probably check it out before something gets broken.”

Miranda agreed. They made their way to the door and to the stairs just as thundering footsteps ripped down the stairs. The twins rushed by them shouting, “Mom, Andy, come on!” Miranda waited for a few more seconds before Cruella came down the spiral staircase looking like the cat who caught the canary.

“Cruella…” Miranda trailed off in a rather threatening voice.

“It’s nothing, darling.” She stepped forward and drew both Andrea and Miranda into a hug for just a second before stepping back. “You’ll see when we get downstairs. Are both of you ready to head to the park?”

Miranda looked at Andrea who nodded then she nodded as well.

“Excellent. Come then, we have a rather limited effective window.”

Miranda wanted to put her head in her hands at those words, but then Cruella was grabbing her hand and dragging her down the stairs with a grin on her face that was rather infectious. She looked over her shoulder at Andrea following behind who just shrugged.

They reached the bottom floor where the twins were finishing up the scramble into their shoes and grabbing whatever they thought they would need. Miranda grabbed her handbag from the closet, handing Cruella her own back and Andrea the wallet she liked to take out on outings like this. She grabbed her cell phone off the hall table before she was dragged by twin sets of hands towards the door, Cruella leading the way.

The front door opened and Miranda sent up a prayer to whoever was listening. The entire front sidewalk was littered with flour and water and what looked like it might be chocolate pudding. How in the world the girls even got those things up to the top floor without her notice was beyond her. She glared over at Cruella who smiled innocently as she stepped over the remains of whatever hell they had rained on the paparazzi. And as much as Miranda hated to admit it, whatever they had done had worked rather well. There were only a few photographers left, looking rather worse for wear. Cruella’s smile turned rather feral as she regarded them, still walking down the sidewalk with the twins at her side, making their way towards the park.

Andrea beside her was visibly trying not to laugh out loud at the rather drowned rat appearance of some of the photographers as they walked by. Miranda took more pleasure in their disgruntled looks. As much as she disapproved the methods her family had used, she did hate the paparazzi more.

Cruella dropped back to walk beside Miranda and Andrea as the twins shot off down the block, careful to keep within their parents’ eyesight. She slipped her arm around Miranda’s waist and leaned into Miranda as they kept moving. Miranda shook her head, but kissed Cruella’s cheek anyway.

“You’re going to turn our children into delinquents.”

Cruella just laughed. “I doubt that. Besides, do you really think they wouldn’t have come up with that on their own in a few weeks? They are rather bright girls after all. They take after their mother.”

Miranda huffed, but her chest warmed a bit and she pulled Cruella closer to her. “Perhaps, but maybe we shouldn’t quite encourage it.”

“Think of it this way, they had adult supervision to make sure their tricks didn’t get too far out of hand.”

“Considering the tricks were yours to start with, forgive me if that doesn’t inspire total confidence.”

“Oh, darling, what’s life without a little fun?”

“Better for my sanity,” Miranda muttered as Andrea laughed.

Cruella pouted just a bit, disengaging herself from Miranda to go wrap herself around Andrea. Miranda shook her head, but watched with a smile as her two lovers walked together. They made quite a picture, really, striking exotic beauty paired with the wholesome, pretty looks of Andrea. Some days she couldn’t quite believe she was theirs and they were hers. She wouldn’t trade it for the world, even if pudding bombs were the price to pay.

They arrived at the park just as the fair was really starting to get into the swing of things. The twins shot off, dragging Andrea with them since she was the one that could keep up with them the easiest. They would come back for Miranda and Cruella later once they had found their favorite stalls so they could show the other women what they had found. Cruella would inevitably slip off with them later and they would all come back on a sugar high from god knew what unhealthy treat. Cruella would kiss her, still with sugar on her lips and tongue, to shut up Miranda’s comments on the food. Miranda would allow it, of course, if only grudgingly because her knees would be on the verge of collapse. Andrea would slip off at some point and come back with little gifts for Cruella and Miranda and a large smile on her face. Miranda might be guilty of disappearing to find an artist that could play both Andrea’s favorite song and Cruella’s and slipping them a rather large amount of money so they would play when she just happened to bring them all past.

At some point Miranda would demand that they go get real, healthy food somewhere for lunch. The twins at that point would have worn off a great deal of energy and everyone would agree readily. Lunch would slip by in a haze of excited chatter from the twins about all they saw, supplemented by the three women. The afternoon would pass in a movie marathon. Dinner would be served, their favorite Indian take out. Night would roll around and the twins would be sent to bed and Cruella, or perhaps Andrea, or maybe even herself would coax the rest of them to bed, but there wouldn’t be any rest for quite a while.

She rubbed her temples and sighed. She would rule Runway until either her dying day or whenever she grew tired of the venture. Miranda thought that at this rate the latter would come much sooner. She loved what she did, loved the ever changing pace, loved dictating what the fashion world wore, loved the power, but there were other things now that she loved just as much, if not more. The twins were growing up so quickly before her eyes. Thirteen going on thirty it seemed most days. And Andrea, she really didn’t want to miss a moment with the other woman. They were too precious. It was almost a burning longing, a deep seated hunger that she wanted to remain close at all times. That wouldn’t actually suit them, she knew, they were two independent women after all, but that didn’t change what she felt.

Roy pulled up outside the town house. Miranda managed to pick her head up off the seat and scoot forward. All she wanted was sleep and Andrea, but she exited the car as Roy pulled the door open for her, unlocked her front door, and walked into her home. She was greeted by silence and darkness. She paused to listen very carefully and did not hear a sound, not even the gentle clicking of laptop keys. And in silence this deep Miranda knew that she would be able to hear the slightest noise even four floors up. Her exceptional hearing had been a blessing in corporate America, maybe a bit of a curse elsewhere. She had heard so many things she wished she hadn’t.

She sighed, locked the door behind her and walked towards the table in the foyer. She picked up the Book and quietly made her way into her study, clicking on the light. She grabbed her faithful pad of post-it notes and her fountain pen, slipped off her heels, almost groaning at how good it was to have them off, and curled up in her favorite chair with the Book on her lap. She looked through it quickly to see what had changed from the day before, noted it, and then went back with lethal comments threatening her staff if they didn’t correct the errors she saw. She was not in the mood for anything other than comments that cut to the bone. Her employees would deal as they always had.

An hour later she uncurled from the chair, done with her work. If she went to sleep right then she would get maybe five hours of sleep. She rubbed a tired hand over her face, carried the Book up their room and set to her nightly ablutions. Makeup washed off, clad in pjs of the softest silk, she actually allowed herself to stand in the doorway of the bathroom with the soft light bathing the room in front of her, and gazed at Andrea’s sleeping form. Andrea was turned toward her, face even younger in sleep. All the stress that had been balled up in her spine throughout the day dissipated. Her Andrea.

She flipped off the light and walked forward, slipping into bed. She pressed a gentle kiss to the woman’s lips and settled down into a comfortable position and was just about to reach for Andrea to pull her closer when the other woman was suddenly already wrapped around her.

“Mmm, Miranda,” she mumbled, not actually awake. She snuggled into her lover and went right back into a deep sleep.

Miranda placed a kiss on Andrea’s hair, wrapped her arms around the girl, and fell asleep with a smile on her face.

 New York Fashion Week: Andy

 It was getting late; the girls were finally put to bed. Andy wearily plopped down to sit on her side of the bed she and Miranda shared. Her arms crisscrossed over her chest as she rubbed her shoulders, though that did little to relieve her tension. Miranda would have turned the knots in her back to pudding with just a few minutes of massaging. But, for the fourth day in a row, Andy hadn’t seen hide nor hair of her love.

Things had been hectic at the Mirror—it turned out some local pizza place had been laundering money for a prostitution ring. Thankfully, it wasn’t one Andy had ever visited, nor taken the girls to as a “Don’t tell your Mother” treat. There was also a huge to-do about some Yankee’s baseball player who just confessed to using “performance enhancing drugs”—God, if Andy had to tell their sports reporter one more time that enhancing was not spelled “inhandsing”, she might be their next biggest story: “Mirror Journalist Snapped! Illiterate Co-Worker Found Dead”.

And then, of course, the Mirror was running mad with the New York Fashion Week. More like Fashion Month, in the Priestly household. This was looking to be the fourth night this week that Miranda had been unable to make it home until long after Andy and the twins were sound asleep. Tonight, the twins decided that they should be allowed to stay up until Miranda got home. Cassidy had given a rather inspired plea for their case—full of compliments to Andy, everything from her looks, to her accomplishments in her career, to just how happy she makes their mom. Caroline even chimed in with, “We’re old enough to not have a bedtime, Andy.”

To which Cassidy had petulantly added, “None of our friends have bedtimes!”

It had taken almost a solid hour to cajole them into going to bed. They weren’t consoled until after Andy promised that after their mother’s work with Fashion Week was over they would get to spend all the time they wanted to with their mother. Andy even swore that she would be doing her best to convince Miranda to take some time off of work afterwards and take them on a family vacation to where ever the girls desired. Within reason. Caroline’s smarmy, “What if we want to go to the moon?” wasn’t exactly doable, but neither was it sincere. So.

And of course, she also promised that if they went to bed now, tomorrow Andy would pick them up for their lunch hour at school and take them some place nice. She’d make reservations at that place that served those cupcakes the twins liked so much, but that could wait until morning.

Now, Andy sat alone, legs dangling over the side of the bed. Waiting. It was going on midnight; it was later than Andy was used to going to bed, but she’d been hoping that perhaps she might get to actually see Miranda tonight—not just feel the phantom kiss the older woman gave Andy when she did finally come to bed for the evening. But Miranda wouldn’t be home for a while now. And of course, there was the Book, so even once Miranda got home, she’d have that to look over, and it wouldn’t be fair for Andy to demand even five minutes of Miranda’s time. The older woman was running on little sleep as it was, and she would be getting just as little sleep tonight, since the Book would keep her up for God knew how long, only to be awake, dressed, and gone before Andy and the girls woke up for the day.

Andy took her hands off of her shoulders and ran them down her arms to hold tightly to her elbows, hugging herself as she sniffled a bit. It was all frustrating. She wasn’t frustrated with Miranda, of course, but at the situation. Miranda would be leaving the country for half a month for Fashion Week events around the world, and this week being New York Fashion Week had made her presence scarce at home. Andy, personally, had not truly seen Miranda since they had a family dinner the Sunday evening before Fashion Week began—Miranda had bid Andy and the girls goodnight long before bedtime, as she had much to do in preparation for the week ahead, and thus nightly the ritual of Miranda crawling into bed long after Andy was asleep, gently pressing a kiss to her love’s lips, and then being gone before Andy could wake to say goodbye had started.

Andy wanted to stay up, she wanted to be selfish and just see Miranda for even a minute. But she couldn’t be, and that…that just sucked, royally.

So, with dwindling hope that she might actually get to see Miranda sometime this week before she left, Andy rose to her feet, and pulled back the covers on her half of the bed. She crawled in slowly and sat up for a few minutes, hoping that Miranda might come in, even for a moment to say goodnight, but she knew the woman wasn’t even home yet.

So Andy turned off the bedside lamp, burrowed deeply underneath the covers, and fell asleep with lingering thoughts of Miranda.

 London Fashion Week:

Miranda was only glad for the five time zone difference between her and Andrea because it meant that no matter how late she got in she got to speak to Andrea. The six hour differences between Milan and Paris would ensure that as well but Miranda wasn’t so sure she’d still be thankful after more than four days away from Andrea. Still, in this case, she would take what she could get and not push for more.

She walked into her suite and immediately kicked off her shoes, leaving them where they landed. Almost always she was more careful with her things, couture was sacred after all, but this wasn’t one of those times. It was two in the morning, she had to be up at six to go over the Book before she was off in the whirlwind of shows She didn’t want to spend time on frivolous things.

Her purse landed on a table for a second while she rooted through it to find her cell phone. Before she even thought about it, the phone was in her hand and she was dialing Andrea. She held it up to her ear and listened to the grainy sound of an international call being put through.

Two rings later Andrea answered. “Miranda, hi.” She sounded breathless and there was a definitely smile in her voice.

“Good evening, darling.” Miranda closed her eyes and sighed. Finally, her Andrea.

“How were the shows today? See anything ground breaking?”

The truth was she’d barely been able to concentrate on the shows. Her mind had kept wandering back to Andrea as models walked past. Nothing was holding attention like it had before. Though that had started long before Andrea had showed up, she had spent a great deal of time in the industry and little surprised her. However, after Andrea it was even worse. She thought it would take something of almost world changing proportions to actually catch her attention now when before something mildly surprising would have pleased her.

“Gods no, I believe this year might just be a rather large waste of time. And yet, I’m still here. I suppose I should just live on hope that something will change.”

Andrea laughed. “Well, no matter how disappointing, I hope you find enough to work with for the September issue.”

Miranda hoped that too. Not having enough material for that issue would be catastrophic at best. “Yes, well, let us hope that some of the contingent who went to other shows had better luck than I.” She sighed. “How was your day, darling?”

“Eh.” She could practically hear the shrug in the words. “Same old, same old, really. Got up, went to work, got assigned an article to outline the president’s plan to pull the troops out of Iraq for the casual reader. Which should actually be interesting really, I’m excited to start researching. Then there were a couple other fluff pieces that won’t take long, a piece about a therapy dog at Children’s and one about a festival this weekend. I think I’ll take the twins with me, I think they’ll like it. There will be a bunch of different types of cuisine from different Latin countries and music and dancing and the like.”

Miranda smiled at the thought of her girls out for a day together. Andrea was really quite excellent with her girls. It had melted her heart on more than one occasion. “That sounds wonderful, I’m sure they’ll love it.” She chuckled. “Cassidy would be on board just for the food aspect.”

“Yeah, I figured.” She laughed quietly.

They lapsed into silence, just listening to the other breathing for a long few minutes. Miranda managed to strip out of her clothes and remove her makeup while keeping the phone pinned to her face. She didn’t want to miss a moment of even just silently coexisting with Andrea.

“I miss you already,” Andrea said after a few minutes.

Miranda slipped into her night ware and climbed into bed. “I miss you too, Andrea.” She sighed out the other woman’s name like a prayer, and maybe it was, as another wave of longing washed over her. She felt like she was starving and the only thing that would save her was Andrea. “I love you.” She leaned her head back against the head board. Her eyes were so heavy. She was not looking forward to the next morning’s wake up call.

“I love you too.” There was rustling on the other end of the line. “You should go to sleep. It has to be crazy late there.”

“Oh, it is, but I find that calling you is much more important than sleep.”

“The people who call you Ice Queen have no idea how mushy you can be,” Andrea teased. “But seriously, Miranda, I know you aren’t getting enough sleep and haven’t for the last week and half. Get what rest you can. I don’t want you getting sick or any more stressed than you have to be.”

Miranda smiled at that. How she ended up with someone so caring she didn’t know. “Fine, I’ll lie down, but stay on the line with me until I’m asleep?”

“That’s a fair compromise.”

“I thought so.” Miranda settled down in bed and groaned. It felt obscene to lay down after the day she had and even though the bed wasn’t her own, she didn’t think that would matter tonight. “Goodnight, darling.”

“Night, Miranda. Sweet dreams.”

Miranda smiled and fell asleep clutching her phone a moment later.

 London Fashion Week: Andy

 A week later Andy was sitting in her car, waiting for Cassidy and Caroline to finish saying goodbye to their friend. Some girl that a week prior had been a sworn enemy, this week was a friend week though, and the twins had animatedly begged Andy for permission to go to this girl’s house to “hang out. Play dates are for babies, Andy, we’re 13”.

It was a good thing Miranda had such an excellent cell-phone plan for her trips abroad. While communication was a bit scant due to the five hour time difference between New York and London and Miranda’s busy schedule, Andy had been able to get the “OK” for the girls to go on their playdate—sorry, hang out with their frenemy.

Though that had been the extent of their texting yesterday, Andy disparaged as she looked over their text messages.

7:31AM: Girls want to “hang out” with Cindy S. after school tomorrow.

7:40AM: Details?

7:42AM: Cindy’s mom will pick them all up from school—you’ve met her before. Knock-off Jimmy Choos @ parent-teacher night. I’ll pick them up from Cindy’s after work—5:30, and take them for dinner, or dessert if they’ve already eaten.

7:59AM: OK

8:00AM: I love you

9:45 PM: <3

There were no new messages yet today. Andy planned to text Miranda once she had the girls. She looked up and saw the girls still chattering away with Cindy and her mother on the front stoop of their home, and decided to let them go on. The girls hadn’t wanted to do much outside of home since Miranda had left—they were around Andy as much as possible so they wouldn’t miss a chance at talking to their mother whenever Miranda had the time to call, and occasionally when Miranda couldn’t call but had time to text, Andy would hand off her phone to the girls for a while. Their previous phone conversation from the day before was still strong in Andy’s mind, though she felt like it had taken place a lifetime ago. Miranda could be quite the hopeless romantic when the mood struck her.

She backed out of her messages and checked her Facebook. Miranda thought Andy having a Facebook was amusing, but everyone at the Mirror had one, it was just another way to stay in touch, as well as another source for leads. It was also nice because Andy could see how things were going back in Cincinnati. And if she happened to come across an elitist bitch or two from High School who had gotten fat, or ended up working fast-food for their career, that was just an added bonus, though she kept those little smug victories to herself.

Her mom had just gotten herself a Facebook recently. That had amused Miranda more than anything—the first thing Andy’s mother did was upload the pictures she’d scanned, most of them Andy’s baby pictures. That had been…embarrassing to say the least, Miranda had positively roared with laughter when she saw those pictures, all of which had been accompanied by the description, in which Andy’s mother wrote “LOL”, which her mom was sure meant “Lots of Love” not matter how many times Andy assured her, it didn’t. Not to mention her mother often posted statuses that she’d meant to be private messages to Andy. Thankfully Andy had talked her mother into giving Andy her Facebook log-in information, so when something too catastrophic was posted, Andy could delete it.

She didn’t have to scroll through her NewsFeed very far before she saw one of her mother’s more recent statuses

Dorothy Sachs: ANDY MIRANDA LOOKS GREAT AT LONDON FASHION WEEK. TELL HER YOUR FATHER AND I SAY HELLO. LOL.

“Jesus,” Andy muttered before hitting Safari and looking up Miranda Priestly London Fashion Week.

The very first thing that popped up was Google Images, right at the very top was Miranda, sitting off to the side of the runway, to most the look on her face would appear to be neutral, but to Andy, her disapproval was obvious as she watched a particularly atrocious outfit be strutted down the catwalk.

She looked beautiful. So in her element, like she was where she was supposed to be, though the thought felt like it burned Andy’s mind. Miranda was supposed to be at Fashion Week. With the work she did, she more than deserved it. But what Andy wanted, more than anything, was for Miranda to be home. With her. She craved that more than she had anything in her life. She wanted to see, hear, smell, touch, taste Miranda with a hunger that grew with each passing day. And here she sat, almost 3500 miles away, despairingly scrolling through pictures that taunted her with what she could not have.

Andy scrolled down and clicked on one of the first articles, and immediately wished she was a reporter for the London Evening Standard’s fashion beat. There were multiple pictures of Miranda at different Fashion Week events, entering different showcases, one was her leaving a restaurant down the street from her Hotel, and there was a particularly breathtaking one of her speaking with a few designers at the Designer’s party that had apparently taken place last night.

Andy’s mouth went dry, and she swallowed multiple times in quick succession as she zoomed in on the photograph.

Miranda had prepared her outfits for all of the Fashion Weeks the week before New York’s. She’d tried a few on for Andy to examine…this particular gown Miranda wore to the Designer’s party, was rather a memorable one.

The floor-length gown was made of a shimmery, midnight-blue material that looked like stars and felt like silk between Andy’s fingers. The draped neckline came just four finger-widths beneath Miranda’s collarbone, showing off the glorious curve of her neck. But the back. God, the back of this dress was a plunging V that stopped just a few inches above her tailbone, and the photographer, God bless that photographer because Jesus damn, they’d caught the perfect angle—showing what Miranda dictated as her “Good Side”, and how the dress emphasized the perfect curve of her lower back that sloped to meet the lines of her amazing ass.

That dress. Andy would do many an inappropriate thing with Miranda in that dress.

The second door on the driver’s side of her car was flung open and as the twins clambered into their seats. Andy’s face went bright red and she dropped her phone immediately, afraid the girls would see the picture and would somehow know the exact nature of her thoughts.

Of course, if the girls had the vocabulary to do so…perhaps Andy and Miranda should be more strict with what they watch on the television.

“Whatcha doin’?” Cassidy asked, leaning forward and resting her chin on Andy’s seat, her head beside the headrest.

“Nothing!” Andy insisted, trying to brush it off, “I’m just, you know, chilling. Waiting for you girls. How was your play—hanging out with Cindy?”

“It was dumb,” Caroline said, putting her seatbelt on.

“Yeah, we hate Cindy,” said Cassidy, plopping into her seat and copied her twin’s action.

“We only hung out because she was bragging about her new flat screen TV,” Caroline said in explanation.

While it was perfectly normal behavior for the girls to go over to someone’s home even though they dislike them, their reasoning this time gave her pause. “Um…we have a flat screen at home. In the living room?”

“Yeah, duh Andy, we know that.” Cassidy rolled her eyes.

“We just wanted to make sure that hers wasn’t better than ours,” Caroline explained.

“It isn’t.”

“We have to be able to defend our sleep-over dibs.”

“Yeah. We have to make sure our classmates don’t want to start having sleepovers at Cindy’s place.”

“Now when she invites people over, we can tell them she has a crappy TV.”

“No wonder.” Cassidy scoffed. “Her mom wears knock off Jimmy Choos.”

“And tries to play them off like the real deal,” Cassidy added.

“Pathetic.”

“Can we have ice cream?”

“Yeah, please?”

Andy smiled at them through the rear-view mirror. “Sure. Let’s go get ice cream, and I’ll see if your mom is available to talk later.”

“Yeah!” both girls enthused, “Have you heard from her?”

“Not yet today, but I’ll text her now to let her know you survived your dumb playdate.”

“Hang out,” the girls insisted.

Andy reached between her feet for her cell phone, and with a lingering look to the photograph from the Designer’s Party, she backed out of Safari and opened her Messages with Miranda.

Just picked up the girl’s from Cindy’s. They had fun. Let me know if you can call later. Have a great day, knock ‘em dead! Love you

She pressed send, and then decided to send just one more message.

I hope that dress you wore to the London Designer’s Party isn’t a rental. I’d like to see it again, in person, and I can promise you it will not be returned in the most pristine condition.

She watched her phone for a moment but there was no immediate reply, so she tucked her cell away and headed for the girl’s favorite ice cream parlor.

It was only when they arrived back home later that evening that Andy received a reply.

Andrea. You must know how very problematic it is for me to reply to a text about my children, and to your…rather erotic sentiments at the same time. I am glad the girls had fun. I am also rather pressed for time this evening so I cannot text for long, but I will try my best to call tomorrow, text me when you are back from the festival. I will endeavor to, as you say “knock ‘em dead”.

And then, a moment later.

The dress is not a rental, why ever would it be? But I intend to hold you to your word, Andrea.

You’d better. I’ll text you tomorrow then, I love you.

And I, you.

 Milan Fashion Week:

Miranda’s eyes blinked open at a luxurious eight a.m. She thanked god that Italians were so much more lax about time than the rest of the world was. She had needed the extra sleep for sure after seven days of ridiculousness in New York and five in London and another two here in Milan. She pushed herself out of bed with a grunt.

She still had an hour before she really had to start getting ready. There was no Book to check over today, the issue having gone to print the day before. Now it was brain storming day and the people left at Runway would send her the ideas by day’s end for approval. The next day the process of checking everything over would start over again, but for now she had time to relax. She cursed that it was too early to call Andrea. She could use a long conversation with her, but at two in the morning Andrea would be sound asleep.

Miranda settled instead for digging around in her things and pulling her laptop out. She booted it up and smiled at the picture of Andrea and the twins that was set as her background. They were covered in flour and so was her kitchen, but the smiles on their faces had been worth it. So had the subsequent flour fight that she had lost horribly. They were still finding bits of white in nooks and crannies and that had been months ago. Every time that happened Miranda chuckled quietly to herself and wiped it up, remembering the fight fondly.

She clicked on her browser and brought up her home page. She had changed it ages ago from Runway’s pathetic little side venture of a website to The Mirror’s website. She scrolled for a second on the front page and found Andrea’s article on the President’s plan to withdrawal the troops about midway down. She scanned over the words, not really taking in the information so much as imagining Andrea sitting in their shared study to write the piece. She wrote the fluff pieces at work and did most of her research there, but the important pieces, the ones she was truly excited about, got written at home when there wasn’t the distraction of the bullpen around her. She could practically see Andrea’s adorable concentrated scowl as she thought of just the right word to describe what was happening, that little moue her mouth made when she was editing.

Miranda glanced away from the article. The amount that she missed Andrea in that moment was almost overwhelming. Her body needed the other woman like it needed food, craved her like chocolate, drank her down like fine wine. To be deprived of that was painful in so many, many ways.

She clicked another of Andrea’s articles when she reached the end of the new one. Reading the words she wrote, remembering the other woman and what they were doing while she was writing the articles in front of her, it soothed her just a bit. She would take what comfort she could get four thousand miles away.

Her heart stopped at the picture a Mirror photographer had taken of the girls and Andrea dancing at one of the concerts Andrea had covered for her fluff pieces. She had approached Miranda hesitantly about the use of the picture. The girls had been fine with it; after all, it had been a flattering picture of them. Andrea, however, had not known how Miranda would react to the question of having the photo published since she was so adamant about the press not going anywhere near her girls. It was only because it was a beautiful photo of her girls that she allowed it to be printed. Miranda had no doubt it was the best picture the photographer had taken that day. It showcased the concert perfectly in bright, vibrant color and looked as if it was about to move, it was so full of life.

Miranda had subsequently reminded every single publisher in the City that her girls were off limits and one photograph did not change that. The only reason it had been allowed was because her significant other was the one who asked. A few tried after that, Miranda had cut them down, and now people understood that Andrea Sachs was the only one who could publish about the girls in any shape or form, which was how Miranda preferred it.

She missed them all. She wondered how the twins were doing. She knew they always missed her when she was gone for the three weeks of fashion weeks. She missed them too, of course, even before Andrea, but it seemed more intense in light of her relationship with the other woman. Perhaps because she pulled them together as a family in ways that no one else had. They were closer now than ever before. And so now the old excuses of ‘she had to for work’ didn’t cut it anymore.

An hour passed in the blink of an eye and hundreds of her lover’s words. She quietly shut the lid of her laptop. She didn’t want to, but she had to get ready for the day. At least she was secure in the knowledge that when she got through this day she was one closer to seeing her girls again.

 Milan Fashion Week: Andy

 London Fashion Week had been…rough, but fine in terms of missing Miranda, for Andy, and the girls. They’d had lots to keep them busy, with the girl’s playdates and Andy’s fluff pieces giving them all sorts of fun activities to get into. The festival had been such a fun experience with the girls—Cassidy and Caroline had rushed around from booth to booth, dragging Andy along as fast as they could, trying out the best cuisine the festival had to offer. That, of course, had turned into a competition of who could handle the spiciest food. While Caroline was more a fan of spicy food, Cassidy’s stubbornness won out and she toughed through food that Andy was worried would burn a hole in the girl’s mouth. The music and dancing had been a blast.

This week, however, was less eventful, and marked the second week Miranda had been gone from the States. She was in Milan now, and the time difference was a bit greater than London’s.

When Andy got home after work, at 5:30, like clockwork, she came home to silence. The girls weren’t bickering, nor were they being terrors for Cara, when Andy entered the kitchen, Cara was quietly preparing dinner, and the girls were sitting at the counter doing their homework in silence.

“Hey guys,” Andy greeted them, coming up behind them to press a kiss to each of their heads as she placed a hand on their shoulders and rubbed them. “Did you have a good day at school?”

Cassidy nodded, while Caroline made a noncommittal noise.

Andy looked to Cara and mouthed, “Are they sick?”

Cara shook her head and shrugged as she finished plating their food and began taking them to the dinner table.

“Thank you for everything, Cara, I can take it from here,” Andy said as she pulled away from the girls and hoisted her work bag onto her shoulder.

“Not a problem, Andy, have a great evening ladies,” Cara said, smiling to Andy and the girls before she disappeared to gather her things and leave for the evening.

“Wow, dinner smells great, doesn’t it girls?” Andy asked awkwardly, trying to make conversation.

The girls shrugged. Andy dropped her work bag off once more and went around the counter to stand in front of the girls.

“What’s wrong? Are you sick? Did something happen at school?” If some bully or trifling teacher had done something to the twins, Andy would track down their number, and place an unpleasant phone call to them or their parents’ phone in the dead of night. And if it wasn’t righted then and there, she would be making herself a thorn in whoever’s side at the school tomorrow. Andy Sachs did not mess around, not when it came to the kids.

And she knew Miranda would follow up with this when she returned home. There would be hell to pay.

“Have you heard from mom?” Caroline asked.

“We’ve texted today, things are going well in Milan. She’s having a nice time…she misses you. Very, very much.”

The girls nodded.

“Andy,” Cassidy spoke up, “When’s mommy coming home?”

Oh God, she said mommy. Oh Jesus in a jumpsuit, Cassidy’s eyes were shiny with unshed tears, and Andy could feel the sting of her own welling with the salty moisture, a lump rising in her throat, and her desire for Miranda to walk through the front door increased exponentially.

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s not going to be much longer now, I promise,” she said, laying her arms across the counter to take Cassidy’s hand into her own, rubbing the back of it with her thumb, she then reached with the other to take up one of Caroline’s and give it a squeeze. “Your mother will be home in less than nine days, okay? Milan will be over tomorrow, and then she just has the week of Paris, and then she’ll be home.”

But a week sounded like a century, felt like infinity, and tasted of eternity.

“We know,” Caroline spoke up quietly, “We just miss her.”

“We miss her a whole lot,” Cassidy added, a few tears spilling over and onto her cheeks.

“Whoa now,” Andy said, letting go of Cassidy’s hand to wipe the tears off of her cheeks, “Don’t go making me cry—your mother turned me on to this mascara I’m wearing, it’s La Christ-on Door, and it’s expensive.”

Cassidy sniffled while Caroline snorted and the twins laughed at her mispronunciation.

“It’s Le Christian Dior,” they corrected.

Andy grinned, put her hands on her hips and wrinkled her nose, shaking her head at them. “That’s what I said,” she spoke in a put-on smarmy tone.

“I’m going to go put my stuff away and clean up a bit, okay girls?” Andy said once the girls had stopped giggling and they continued to smile.

“Okay,” the girls said, hopping down from the counter, they went to one of the downstairs bathrooms to wash their faces and hands while Andy collected her work bag and jaunted up the stairs.

She closed the bedroom door, sat down on the half-empty bed, and took in a shaky breath.          

 Paris Fashion Week:

Miranda braced for it every year. Place de la Concorde was unavoidable, really, at least in the parts of the city that the shows were in. All she could ever see was Andrea walking away from her three years ago. The disappointment that had punched her in the gut when she had turned to find that Andrea was not behind her had almost crippled her. The despair in the days afterward had been worse. She had known the girl had meant more to her than any other assistant she had ever had, but she wasn’t quite aware of how much until that moment.

Her hands itched to dig into her purse and call Andrea. She needed to know that everything in the last three years since then had happened, that the woman was sitting at home, or at work and would be coming back to the townhouse later, would be having silly flour fights with the twins and lighting up their lives. But she didn’t reach for the phone. She trusted Andrea. Andrea would be at home like she had been every day since she moved in a year ago. She just had to make herself trust her perception of reality and hope it all hadn’t been a dream.

But no, it hadn’t been a dream. Her mind was one for practicality and not one for idle dreams that weren’t about innovative fashion designs. She couldn’t come up with something like this on its own. Invariably if she had come up with this scenario it would’ve ended in flames by now. Not that it hadn’t had its bumps, their coming out had been a particularly rough period, but they were still together and perhaps stronger for it.

She looked out the window again as Place de la Concorde faded into the distance and she breathed again. As much as she trusted Andrea and what they had built, that didn’t mean that she had to like being reminded that it had almost all blown up in her face. They would pass the place again later switching shows again. And again. She didn’t care to think about how many times really. And every single time she would have the same reaction. She wondered if the reaction would ever fade with time. Knowing her mind and it’s capability to remember things in crystal clear detail she doubted it.

Her phone buzzed in her purse.  Miranda reached down and smiled at the notification on her screen. A text message from Andrea. Whatever tension she’d been holding in her after passing Place de la Concorde bled away.

Good morning, beautiful. Well, afternoon, but the sentiment remains.

It was just after noon in Paris. Andrea had just woken up a few minutes ago and the first thing that she had done was text Miranda. Her heart swelled with love. God, the woman was a perfect as anyone could be.

Good morning, darling. Have a nice day at work.

She put her phone back into her purse as the car slowed down in front of their next destination. She huffed out a breath at the amount of paparazzi on the steps leading up to the venue. She really hated this part of fashion week. But still, no matter the crowd, it didn’t dim the little spark of good mood that Andrea’s text message had engendered.

She would be home in three days. The absolute need to see Andrea was growing stronger and stronger by the day, but she would be home soon. And then she would be home to Andrea who sent her good morning text messages minutes after she’d woken for the day, who made her breakfast every weekend without fail, who put up with her long hours better than any of her husbands ever had. She would get to take the woman into her arms and finally satiate the need she had for the other woman. Her mouth watered at the thought of kissing the other woman senseless as soon as she walked through the door.

The smile she gave the paparazzi as she stepped out of the car wasn’t as fake as normal, a little bit of warmth from her feelings about Andrea infused into the expression. Yes, she loved an absolute marvel of a woman, and she hated being away from her. She might depend on her a bit more than she would have ever wanted in another partner, but she was completely fine with it now and would always be.

She walked into the show and could surprisingly concentrate on the designs and maybe everything wasn’t horrible, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t counting the hours until she was home in the back of her mind where the memory of Andrea’s smile resided.

 Paris Fashion Week: Andy

  Andy had almost made it. She’d almost made it through the entirety of all the Fashion Weeks without crying. She’d had some close calls, of course, but not a tear had been spilt, not on her behalf. She’d held it together through Miranda leaving, seeing all the articles and photos of her lover online, through the twin’s own despair at their mother’s absence—which had hurt Andy’s heart more than her own longings for Miranda. She’d not shed a single tear, not one.

That winning streak had been cut short in the Eleventh Hour, half way through Pairs Fashion week, by a pillow.

Miranda’s pillow, to be exact.

Andy had contented herself with falling asleep, only as long as she had Miranda’s pillow clutched tightly in her arms as she slept. Being able to hold something, something that smelled deeply of Miranda, had been a great comfort to her these past few weeks.

But now that scent was gone, replaced by Andy’s own and she hated herself for it.

Hot, angry, fat tears rolled down her face, her face felt warm, her nose was running and red, and the skin at the end of it had begun to flake from Andy’s vigorous nose blowing. Her throat ached from the feeling as if a rock was lodged in it, and her stomach hurt, and she was almost certain she would be sick if she didn’t stop crying soon as she sucked in a harsh breath past a body wracking sob.

Stupid. Fucking. Pillow.

She sniffled, and heard the door creak open behind her.

“Andy?”

The voice was quiet, concerned, and Caroline’s, followed shortly after by Cassidy’s.

“Are you alright?”

Andy nodded, her back was to the door where she sat on her side of the bed, Miranda’s pillow in her lap.

“I’m fine girls; I was just getting ready for bed.”

Instead of verbally calling her out on her lie, bare feet padded across wood floors and the twins, clad in soft silk jammies came to sit on either side of Andy on the bed, and leaned their heads against her shoulders.

A loud sob broke past Andy’s clenching teeth, and her hands flung to her mouth to try and block the sound, but there wasn’t much point to it really. The girls knew, and Andy knew they understood.

They let Andy cry for a while, before Cassidy, who sat to Andy’s left, scooted back on the bed, and lifted the covers, snuggling into Miranda’s side of the bed. She patted the spot next to her, bidding Andy take the space in the middle. Andy smiled and slid under the covers and lay next to the girl, Caroline followed suit, taking up the space to Andy’s right, both the twins snuggling up to Andy, each taking one of Andy’s hands, and then using their free arm to lay across Andy’s waist, semi-hugging her until they all fell asleep.

Andy smiled as her final tears slipped slowly down her cheeks, and she held tight to the two pieces of Miranda the older woman had left behind.

 Coming home:

When Miranda had boarded the plane home, she had been positively giddy, not that her staff had known it. She had driven them as she normally did, working them even after a three week whirlwind tour of the fashion hubs of the world. But they didn’t know that she was taking a long weekend after they got back and wanted as much lead as she could on all the work that must be done now that fashion week was over. Neither did Andrea or the twins for that matter, but they would know soon enough. She was thankful that Andrea hardly ever used her vacation time and could really work from anywhere if need be. Not that Miranda really wanted her to work during this vacation, but she understood.

When the plane had finally landed at JFK eight hours later she was positively ecstatic. If it weren’t for the gifts that she had stashed away in her luggage she would have just left it for some Runway minion to collect and bring back to the office with them. She would’ve found it amusing to see the look on their face certainly, and it would have allowed her to leave just a few minutes earlier. She was so close to Andrea now that she could taste it, taste her on her lips. She licked them in anticipation as she waited at the baggage claim for the imbeciles unloading the plane to get their act together. Honestly, how long did it take to carry a few bags off a plane? Didn’t they know that she had much better things to be doing than standing there waiting on their glacial pace?

When the conveyor belt started moving and bags started to come out of the little hole in the center of the belt Miranda almost jumped for joy, but she really didn’t want her employees to faint dead on the spot. They had work to do, after all, while she was gone. Miranda was thankful that her bags were some of the first out. She grabbed them both and glared at her staff.

“Tomorrow, eleven a.m. be ready to work. Your performance that last few weeks hasn’t been abysmal. That’s all.”

And with that she swept out of the airport where Roy was waiting for her, the car parked where it always was when she returned from business trips. Roy bustled out to meet her and took her bags. Miranda felt as if she was about to crawl out of her skin as she slid into the back seat. The anticipation was killing her now that only a few miles of traffic clogged road stood between her and her love. Roy, however, seemed to realize she was in a hurry and in no time flat they were cruising away from the airport in silence. She really had to see that the man got a bonus for all his hard work for her and always knowing what she wanted, at least when it came to driving.

Miranda tried not to squirm in her seat as the streets flashed past. She knew that Roy was driving as fast as he could given the traffic conditions, but she wanted to be there now. Shame they hadn’t perfected teleportation yet, she could’ve used it right then. But she sat and put up with the slow pace of the car, watching the minutes tick past inching towards nine o’clock. Andrea would be home curled up in the study. The girls would be up in their rooms either finishing up homework they had put off or playing video games, or reading, or a million other things that teenagers did. She tried to keep abreast of their interests but sometimes they changed so quickly Miranda found herself at a loss. She was glad Andrea had a handle on it constantly when she failed.

She sat forward as they entered Manhattan. She watched the street numbers count up slowly. Her hands clenched into fists. She unclenched them slightly when her nails dug into her palms. She wouldn’t injure herself because she was that anxious. That would be a completely foolish move. Andrea wouldn’t be happy with her, and frankly she wouldn’t be happy with herself. She wanted to be have her hands perfectly functional for later. Miranda licked her lips again at the images of what she could do to Andrea tonight after three weeks of nothing. She wanted anything and everything.

They were finally in the sixties street number wise. Roy weaved in and out of traffic like the pro he was. She wondered how the girls would like their gifts from this round of fashion weeks. Cassidy now had a new art set that was the finest Paris could offer and a fashionable tote big enough to carry it around. Caroline had several different books all in different languages and a new book bag. There was a pile of clothing that would arrive in the next two days that the two of them could sort through and divvy up as they wanted as well, but the gifts she had now would be the ones they really wanted. Their passions at the moment were very easy to buy things for at least.

70th street. She sat up straighter and kept from tapping her heeled foot. 71st street. She felt a smile forming on her face. 72nd street. She turned and prepared to exit the car as soon as it was stopped in front of the town house. They inched down the blocks a little faster now that they were in a mostly residential area. Miranda saw the block that the townhouse was on come into view. She felt her breathing pick up just slightly. Her heart beat out the rhythm of I’m home, I’m home, I’m home. She pulled her keys from her purse and separated her home key from everything else.

Roy pulled up to the curb and Miranda was out of the car. She had her key in the front door in a second and was opening it a second afterward. Roy would leave her luggage by the front door and then show himself out unobtrusively as always, not disturbing their reunion. She really had to reward the man for being such a good employee.

And then the door was open and she was stepping through, the anxiety fading from her system as she saw what was waiting for her.

“Andrea,” she whispered.

 Miranda’s Home:

“Andrea.”

Andy had been lighting the very last of the round, cream colored candles when the door swung open, she immediately put the lighter down, prayed to ever god—real, fictional, or otherwise—that she still looked as fantastic as she had in the mirror just a few minutes ago, and that the tall black heels she’d fearfully shoved her feet into earlier would not twist beneath her and make her fall as she turned around.

Miranda was standing in the doorway, live and in glorious flesh, and she looked as if she were trying to pick her jaw up off of the floor.

Well, as much as Miranda Priestly could possibly look like that—as it was, her mouth was parted a bit and she was staring at Andy as if she were the only person in the world.

“What is…” Miranda gestured to their foyer.

Andy blushed and immediately felt stupid, embarrassed. Insecure, was the core of those feelings, as she looked around at her and the twin’s handiwork.

The entire house was filled with candles setting on all the tables that lined their halls, and from the ceiling, there hung white Christmas lights. The house lights were off, and it created the illusion as if they were alone in an endless night.

At least, that was what Andy had been going for as she silently prayed that the fire alarms did not go off.

“The twin’s idea. They decided to spend the night at Cindy’s house, something about her TV not being as crappy as they thought,” Andy explained, nervously. She licked her lips. “I would have OK’d it with you…but that would have given the game away, you see.”

Miranda’s eyes trailed up and down Andy’s body.

“Oh yes, Andrea. I do see,” the older woman spoke very softly.

Andy had spent all day yesterday in the Closet, picking out the perfect outfit for Miranda’s welcome home.

She’d decided on a black number, with a plunging neckline that stopped just above her navel, which revealed to Miranda the fact that Andy was very much bra-less underneath. The hem fell just a few inches shy of her knees, and in the back, the fabric crisscrossed to meet the top of the dress’s skirt at tail-bone level, leaving a large portion of her back bare. All in all, it seemed to have the desired effect on Miranda, as the older woman stared her younger counterpart down, her expression the very definition of hunger.

“Welcome home,” Andy offered with a shrug and a smiled.

The front door swung shut and Miranda’s heels steadily clicked against the hardwood floors like the second-hand on the clock, click, click, click, click, click, until she stood before Andrea, taking the brunette’s hands into her own.

“Andrea, while I appreciate the beautiful decorations, the girls are out for the evening, and we have not seen each other properly, in well over a month,” Miranda leaned in closer, “and now that I have seen you properly, I wish to see you improperly.”

Andy grinned, and leaned forward to breathe a whisper of words against Miranda’s ear, “Then it’s a good thing that my underwear matches my bra,” before pulling back and meeting Miranda’s gaze.

Miranda took Andy then, into her arms, and pressed her lips to her younger soul mate’s. Kissing Miranda again, after the long weeks of Fashion-Month, was like water to a dying woman. And Andy drank her, as if she would gladly drown. As they ascended the stairs, pieces of clothing flying, Andy knew that she would wait for this woman forever if she had to, she just hoped she didn’t have to. The look in Miranda’s eyes as they finally hit their bed told her that wouldn’t ever be a problem.

Miranda turned her chair around to stare out the windows of her office. There wasn’t a great deal to see seventeen floors up, mostly just the windows of other office buildings and the occasional disgusting pigeon flying by, but it provided a blank canvas for her to paint her thoughts. The divorce with Stephen had gone horribly. The best lawyers that money could buy couldn’t combat an unforgiving system. No one had any love for a woman called the Dragon Lady. Most days she bore that cross like a martyr. Someone had to be the Dragon Lady in order for the fashion world to truly thrive. But this last time through the mud hole that was divorce had weakened her resolve. The twins had almost been taken from her. She had given Stephen a great deal more than she ever planned to in order to stop him from spouting lies about what a horrible mother she was. She would get him back of course. She always did, but for now she was just so very tired.

And now Andrea. Miranda closed her eyes and massaged her temples. She had just fended off Irv less than a year ago in Paris, but he was circling her again, looking for weaknesses. Andrea would give him a perfect opportunity to go for her throat. God knew that a man could fuck his assistant into oblivion and back and the company would bend over backwards to protect him, but if she so much as looked at Andrea wrong she would be thrown out onto the street for Page Six to snatch up in a millisecond.

She couldn’t put her girls through that again. They were heading into their teenage years now, more aware than ever of the press and the things they said about their mother, and about them no matter how many journalists Miranda had blacklisted for the mention of her precious girls. Dating an assistant, a woman half her age no less, Page Six would be the worst they had been yet. She couldn’t let it happen. She couldn’t.

A plan formed in her mind. She hated it from the second she even thought of it, but no matter how long she sat there staring at reflective windows and stupid birds, she thought of nothing else that would work. As a businesswoman she had learned to head problems off at the pass, before they even became problems. And this was the only way she was going to stop this. And it might kill her, she was sure.

She waited for a long time, gathering up the courage to call Andrea into her office. Once this was done it could not be undone. She knew that. Even if she could explain it to the girl some time down the line Andrea wouldn’t forgive her. She knew Andrea well enough to know that. Picking the twins over her, Andrea would understand, but everything else, picking her job and her reputation over the girl, that’s what she wouldn’t forgive. Miranda didn’t blame her. In her shoes she would feel the same way. But Miranda hadn’t been an assistant in a very, very long time and the shoes she had to fill were much bigger.

She took a deep breath. If she didn’t do this now she wasn’t going to do it at all, and if hellfire and damnation rained down on the girls because of her indecision she would never forgive herself. She steeled herself again and turned her chair around. Her posture straightened and she felt herself slipping into the dragon persona. She would need it. It was her sword, most assuredly, but more importantly her shield. Her shield against big brown eyes that would wound her almost as effectively as twin pairs of bright blue.

“Andrea,” she whispered out, even quieter than normal. She hoped the girl wouldn’t hear. At least then she could tell herself that she had tried when things came crashing down around her.

But no, Andrea was attuned to her as ever. She was in front of Miranda, notepad at the ready, waiting for instruction.

“Close the door, Andrea, and have a seat.” There was steel in her voice, cold and unforgiving. She had not put it there, but perhaps it was for the best.

Andrea’s eyes widened slightly, but she scurried to do as Miranda said. Emily would no doubt be curious as to what was going on behind the closed door. Miranda hardly ever closed her office doors, but she couldn’t bring herself to humiliate Andrea in front of anyone else. It was the one small mercy that she could give her. Emily could be put off with lies. No one needed to know what went on behind these doors but the two already in the office.

Then Andrea was seated and staring at her, posture stiff. She could sense something was wrong. The girl bore her bad moods with a smile, but this was different. Miranda would almost laugh at the fact that she was driving the one person who seemed to actually understand her away, but she had a feeling once she started she might actually start to tear up. The last thing that she needed a was repeat of Paris.

She swallowed again and started in on her own death march. “Andrea, I’ve just gotten the most interesting call from Nigel, do you know what it was about?”

She saw the instant of confusion cross Andrea’s face before the girl shook her head. “No, Miranda.”

“Strangely enough it was about you. A new, exciting position in an international fashion house, the job of his dreams, really, and yet what he wanted to speak to me about was you. Needless to say I found it quite odd.” Nigel was going to hate her later when Andrea called him in tears. She prayed that her friend could forgive her. This is not what he had intended to provoke when he had informed her of the girl’s affections, and she knew it. He was more than a bit of a romantic. He wanted her to be happy, to go after Andrea. But that wasn’t who she was and after all these years he should know that.

Andrea paled just a little, perhaps catching onto the game that was afoot. “Oh, um—”

Miranda cut her off before she could continue with whatever excuse she was going to placate her with. “I found it quite…disturbing what he had to tell me.” She looked Andrea up and down with fire in her eyes, burning the girl to a crisp. “It’s not uncommon for the people who work for me to develop crushes on me. After all, I am a woman in power and that draws so many people, as many as it repulses, really. I tolerate it, because if I didn’t I would have very few employees, and because crushes fade quickly when faced with the real dragon. A few weeks of snippy comments and the crush is gone. I become just the bitchy boss that they all have a very grudging respect for. But you, Andrea, seem determined to be different in all ways.”

Andrea was whiter than a ghost now and trying not to shake. Miranda could see the slight tremors in her hands. She had to hold herself back from going around the desk and taking those hands in hers and turning this talk around into something that both of them would enjoy, if only for a few fleeting moments until the press got wind of everything. She was stronger than her impulses, though, and for once she cursed that.

“Miranda, I—” Andrea started.

“No, no. I’m not quite done yet.” Miranda picked up a pen, bent over just slightly, and withdrew a form from one of her desk drawers. She truly hated this shade of pink, a sickly bubblegum that absolutely no one above the age of seven looked good in. Andrea shook harder as she saw it and figured out exactly where this was all going. Miranda started to fill out the form with a steady hand, though everything else inside her was shaking.

“The smart, fat girl, the one who doesn’t care about fashion, the one who can perform even the most impossible of tasks, you are the one, who despite everything I have ever thrown at you, has had the stupidity to fall in love with me.” She snorted derisively and crossed a t with a little more force than necessary. “Foolish, but then again you’ve done many foolish things in your tenure here. Tell me, what in the world ever possessed you to come up the stairs of the townhouse? Were the instructions that Emily gave you not clear enough? Or were you just that desperate to get a glimpse into my life, even then?”

Miranda almost prayed that Andrea threw the twins under the bus, that would make this so much easier. It hadn’t taken much after the original fury had faded from that incident to figure out just why Andrea had been stupid enough to ascend the stairs. The twins had readily fessed up when asked, still knee deep in their Harry Potter manuscripts, with smiles and a mischievous giggle. Miranda had rolled her eyes and told the twins in no uncertain circumstances were they to pull such a stunt again, but had otherwise done nothing to them. If grown women fell for children’s tricks, well that was their fault really.

“No, I, uh.” Andrea closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes again her resolve had firmed. “I misunderstood the directions Emily gave me and I was nervous about delivering the Book for the first time. It was my fault and an honest mistake.”

Miranda’s heart thumped painfully. Why in the world had she protected the twins? Why? “Ah, so the smart, fat girl is not so smart after all is she?” Miranda signed her name at the bottom of the form with a flourish. Anyone around Runway knew that if she completed the paperwork for firing you herself you had done something so heinous that the odds of a blacklisting following were good. She pushed the paperwork forward. Andrea didn’t take it, she just stared at Miranda.

“Then again, since you fell in love with me, you must be very, very stupid. Did you honestly think you had a chance, Andrea? Really? What in your deluded little brain thought I would be interested in you?” She sneered the last part, lip curling upward. “Why would I want a fashion blind idiot from Ohio of all places? I could have anyone I wanted, if I so chose. God knows if I wanted a woman I could just say the word and models would fall at my feet begging. And you are most certainly not a model. I think some of them might have more brain cells than you after this little stunt.”

Miranda could feel herself dying just a bit with every vitriol coated word she spewed. But she couldn’t stop herself. The Andrea in front of her was still intact, hurt, but she would walk away from this in one piece. The girl knew her too well for that to happen. She might puzzle together just why Miranda had done this. She couldn’t have that. Andrea was too noble. She would try some stupid plan to get Miranda to see that no matter what they could make it work, press be damned. Miranda couldn’t trust herself not to fall for it.

And so she went in for the kill. “It’s no wonder that all of your friends left you with your break up with the cook. They were probably only his friends and just included you out of pity. You are by far the biggest disappointment I have ever allowed to come through this office. Everyone else must see it too; it’s so obvious after all. You’ll never be anything in life but the fat girl who’s so very eager to please but just can’t cut it. Everything you get will be out of pity and not because of your actual worth, because you have none. You’re worthless, Andrea Sachs. You should just move back to Ohio. Perhaps then amongst all those mediocre people you might actually be worth something, but even then I doubt it.”

She saw the moment Andrea allowed herself to break under the words. Miranda choked back a sob, choked back the words of apology that were desperate to come out. This was what she wanted. She had to repeat it to herself over and over, but she wasn’t convinced. Still, she continued.

“Take that down to HR after you clean out your desk. I want you and your pathetic little affections out of this building in an hour or I’ll have security drag you out. You wouldn’t want to be any more pitiful than you already are, now would you? That’s all.” She waved her away like she was some sort of pest.

Andrea stood on shaky legs and picked up the paperwork Miranda had pushed forward. It shook like a leaf as she drew it closer to her chest. Andrea took one last look at her, tears in her eyes. She blinked, and finally a drop fell right onto the pink slip. She took a deep breath and nodded before turning and starting to walk from the office.

Miranda could let it end like this. She was breaking right then and there. She had to do something, anything before she fell to her knees and begged Andrea to stay. She couldn’t do that.

“And Andrea?” Miranda said, wondering just how in the world she managed to keep her voice steady.

Andrea turned around, more tears flowing down her face. Miranda wondered if the girl even knew she was still crying. She blinked her own burning eyes. No, she thought, she probably didn’t.

“I can only think of one publication in this entire city that would take such a…” She looked Andrea up and down again, making a disgusted noise, “person as you. Try the New York Mirror. That rag isn’t worth anything. They’re desperate. I’m sure they’ll take you on, even if it is out of pity. It’s not even worth blacklisting you. You’ll do that well enough yourself.”

Andrea held back a sob and walked from the room, letting Miranda’s office door close quietly behind her.

Miranda swallowed. She felt completely and utterly gutted. She had done it. She had worn her armor well enough to force Andrea from her life, but she wondered at what cost. Her reputation as the Ice Queen had just been confirmed. After all, who in the world would destroy someone with just a kind soul but someone who was unfeeling and absolutely horrible? She was absolutely horrible. There was no way around it.

She sat back in her chair, letting the pen drop from her fingers. But it was done and could not be taken back. She had to live with it, as she had to live with every other horrible choice she had made in her forty-eight years of life. She had grown used to regret as a constant companion.

Miranda watched the clock as it counted the hour down that she had given Andrea to leave her life forever. Every second felt like needles digging into her skin one by one. And yet she sat still, face stoic, just waiting for the end to come, for a needle to go too deep and pierce something vital.

They never did. And the hour ended. Miranda knew Andrea was already long gone. She stood from her desk and walked towards the doors of her office. She pushed them open slowly, securing them so they stayed open once more. She looked over at Emily who had perked up the second Miranda’s doors had inched open.

“Call HR and find me another assistant. The farther she is from Andrea the better.” Miranda walked towards the coat closet and grabbed her own items from the space, much to Emily’s complete surprise. She was just too tired to be demanding. Too tired for anything at all really. “Cancel the rest of my day. I don’t care what you have to do to make it so, just do it. Hold the Book tonight. If there’s anything urgent let Jocelyn handle it. We’ll see if she truly earned her promotion.” She slipped on her coat. “I expect Roy to be here by the time I’m downstairs. That’s all.”

Miranda walked slowly down the hall and towards the elevators, head held high and gaze full of ice that she didn’t feel. To appear weak now would be suicide. All the conditioning over the years had done her well, it seemed.

Roy was there by the time she got to the lobby of Elias-Clarke. She strode out, taking none of her usual pleasure in the crowds parting around her. There was no assistant trailing her out radiating helpful energy and smiles enough to soothe even the testiest of people. She missed her already as foolish as it was.

And there it was. She had called Andrea, but it was really her who was pathetic. She was the one who couldn’t stand the thought of being dragged through the mud again, being ousted from a job she loved and also hated. She wouldn’t risk it all for a girl that she knew she was in love with. Head over heels, defended your honor in a fight love. And yet that wasn’t enough for her. She wasn’t even human. Perhaps she was the Ice Queen that everyone thought her to be.

She managed to hold the tears at bay until Roy had dropped her off at the townhouse. As soon as the door was closed behind her, she collapsed to the floor, a sob ripping from her throat. One after the other until she could make no more noise, cry no more tears. She curled into a ball and laid on the wooden floors of her home that didn’t feel like home at all. If she wasn’t going to risk it all for a girl who deserved everything from her, then perhaps this was how it should be. Andrea deserved someone who bent heaven and earth to get her what she wanted and needed, who loved her more than anything else in the world. And that person was not Miranda. She had just proved that.

Miranda pulled herself from the floor slowly, bones aching after such a long time on a hard surface. She relished the pain. It was what she should feel after what she’d just done. She swallowed and dragged herself into her room. She looked into the mirror of her bathroom after washing off her ruined makeup. No, this wasn’t the person that Andrea should love. She was old, washed up, cruel, a million other things Andrea should never experience. It was better this way.

She took a deep breath and started to put herself back together again for the arrival of the twins, but no matter what she did there was a piece missing.

Miranda froze at those words. Can we talk never led to anywhere good. She had heard those words before every bad event in her life, both divorces had seen that phrase used more than once, every break up, every time she was fired. She swallowed hard. Andrea couldn’t be breaking up with her, could she? She thought they were happy. Miranda herself was the happiest she could ever remember being short of the day the twins were born. Did Andrea not feel the same?

Andrea’s hands stroking gently along her calves brought her back from her dark thoughts. “It’s nothing like that, Miranda, I love you. I never want to leave, at least as long as you don’t want me to.”

Miranda leaned forward and kissed the top of Andrea’s head. “Never.” She felt Andrea swallow against her leg.

“Um, maybe save that until after this, ok?”

Miranda closed her eyes. Andrea was cheating then. Or had cheated, which of course she would call an accident if it was only one time, but Miranda had been through this song and dance before, it never was truly just once. Miranda had known that her husbands would cheat again, had started preparing for the end, and most assuredly hadn’t ever forgiven them even though she said she had. Andrea, however, would be forgiven. As with all things she was special in Miranda’s heart. Goodness knew, the girl might actually mean it when she said never again. Then again, Miranda did live on hope as blind as it sometimes made her.

She waited and waited for Andrea to go on, knowing that if pushed before she was ready the other woman would spook and bolt from the room before she had gotten a chance to speak. They breathed together in silence for tense moments. And still, as tense as it was Miranda had never been this relaxed around a lover. Her husbands always had her back up. She was always on guard with them. Even sitting in this moment waiting for Andrea to destroy her heart she was more open. She had a feeling she would regret that immensely in a few moments.

“You said a couple years back that Caroline and Cassidy are my daughters as much as they are yours.”

Miranda was taken aback. That was not how she had thought this conversation would start. Her face scrunched just the tiniest bit. Perhaps she was wrong about where this was going?

She sat back. But if she wasn’t wrong then she would not hesitate to murder Andrea. Her girls. They were the ones that ranked above all others, including Andrea. The other woman knew that and was completely fine with it, but if she had so much as touched a hair on either of the twins heads inappropriately she would spare no quarter.

“And that’s true, and I feel like they’re my own, I really do.” She sniffled. “I love them to death and would literally kill for them, but…” She trailed off and didn’t go on for a few minutes leaving Miranda on the precipice. The more Andrea spoke the more Miranda thought she was wrong, but she still wasn’t sure where this was going and she hated surprises.

“But I didn’t really get to raise the girls. I missed out on the first ten years of their lives and I regret that more than you know. And as selfish as it is, I want that. I want to raise a kid from birth until whenever I die. But I know that’s unfair to you and I know that’s unfair to the twins. I don’t ever, ever want them to think that I don’t think of them as enough. They are. They really, really, are. And if I had been with you when they had been born this wouldn’t even be a thought of mine, but it is and—” Andrea drew in a shaky breath. “I’ve tried to convince myself out of it a hundred times, every time I see you and the girls, really, but some part of me won’t listen to reason.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe it’s just my biological clock going off and maybe it will fade with time if I just ignore it, but right now, more than anything, what I want is to have a baby. And I knew I had to tell you since we talk to each other about everything important, but I really didn’t want to hurt you either and I just…I’m a selfish idiot.”

Andrea collapsed against her knee, completely spent now that her confession was out in the open.

Miranda thought for a long moment, keeping her hand moving through Andrea’s hair steadily, never pausing once. She needed the other woman to know that she was not rejecting her, only that she needed time to think. Unbidden, an image of a tiny little girl with Andrea’s big brown eyes popped into her mind. Her heart ached at the picture. Oh, a little girl like that would be worth everything in the world, just as the twins were.

Then terror rose up and consumed her. What if Andrea—she couldn’t even think it. There was too much pain there, choking her, making her dizzy. She had barely survived. She didn’t want her love to go through that. She didn’t think she could go through that again either.

She breathed deeply and released it slowly. She knew she had to tell Andrea. The other woman was right, they told each other everything important, and in this context, it was extremely important to explain any and all reticence she might have about the proposal of another child. But where to even begin? She didn’t know. She’d never told anyone before. No one had been worth the story.

“When I was about three years younger than you are now I had a short relationship with a man in London while I was Art Director there. I don’t even really remember his name, but it is unimportant, really. Two months after we had broken it off, not that there was much to break off, I learned that I was pregnant. I was making enough at the time that I knew even as a single parent I could handle a child and continue working with the help of a nanny. I had no one else to help, but that didn’t matter. I wanted the child from the moment I found out. No one would’ve believed at the time, but I had always wanted to be a mother for as long as I could remember, I just knew in order to get where I wanted I had to wait a bit longer than most.”

Andrea turned to look up at her, brown eyes still watery, and so very questioning. Miranda tried to smile at her, but she couldn’t manage. She could fake every single emotion on the spectrum, but not now, not when she was about to be laid completely bare.

“And so I proceeded with the pregnancy alone. The father had wanted nothing to do with the child, which was what I wanted in the first place, so I was pleased. Everyone at work was surprised when they found out. Even then I had much the same reputation as I have now.” Miranda laughed, but it wasn’t exactly a happy one. “I just glared them all into submission again and everything proceeded as normal.”

She looked away from Andrea, unable to keep the eye contact going. The urge to curl in on herself was overwhelming. She resisted, as she had every time she thought back to these memories for the last twenty-five years.

“Everything with the pregnancy went well. I followed every single guideline that was given to me, I changed my diet, avoided everything I should’ve, exercised, got enough sleep for once in my life, anything they told me to I did because I wanted this child more than anything. By the time the ninth month rolled around I was ready for anything. My flat was stuffed to the gills with anything a baby could ever need. The nursery was almost a work of art in its own right.”

She smiled despite herself. She had spent many hours in that room, making sure it was all perfect for her baby. It had been wonderful, a beautiful, soothing shade of blue with white furniture and murals she had painted by hand of baby animals of all shapes and sizes. During the last month of her pregnancy it was the only place that she could go where the baby would stop kicking enough for her to sleep. She hadn’t minded since she enjoyed the room so much.

“I thought I had done everything right.” Miranda closed her eyes and turned her face to the ceiling. “I went into labor right in the middle of Runway UK. I finished up the layout I had been working on before I headed down to the hospital. Everything checked out fine with me and we waited and waited. Labor,” she shook her head. “It takes so long, mostly just sitting around and cursing when contractions hit. Such an odd biological process.”

She blinked her eyes open to find the room blurred with tears. She wiped them away agitatedly. She had to get through the rest of the story before she could cry or she would never get through the story.

“But by the time I dilated enough, something had gone wrong. They rushed me into surgery, but it was too late. Somewhere in the twenty minutes between checkups the baby had died. They never did figure out why. They told me sometimes it just happens no matter how well everything went before. Needless to say, that answer wasn’t good enough for me, but yelling and screaming didn’t help my case much. She was buried a few days later in a cemetery outside of London in the prettiest place I could find. I couldn’t go back to my apartment after that. I sent my assistant over to pack all of my things, found a hotel for the interim, and then moved clear across town, but the pain still followed me everywhere for an ungodly amount of time. It still does, I think.”

She sighed and relaxed back into her seat. The hardest part was over now. Andrea stood up and climbed into the chair with Miranda, curling around her and wrapping her up tight in long arms. Miranda laid her head on Andrea’s shoulder and blinked back another round of tears.

“When I found out I was pregnant with the twins eight years later I was terrified it would happen again. I almost ended it right there and then just so I wouldn’t have to go through the pain again, but I couldn’t. I still desperately wanted to be a mother, perhaps more after everything I’d been through. When they were born and each one cried almost the minute they were out of the womb I cried. No one thought it odd, of course. They thought they were happy tears. And to an extent they were, but they were more relief than anything and perhaps more that little sadness that the previous time hadn’t ended in a positive way as well.”

She kissed Andrea’s collarbone underneath her lips. She wanted to go to sleep now, but there was more to say, not to mention the Book still lay on the floor now, half-finished. Maybe Andrea would take the Book away from her and lead her to bed, she had before on bad nights. She was always taking care of Miranda in ways that no one had thought to before, driven off by her prickly personality and the fear that she would snap at them.

“The thought of a small version of you running around the townhouse is an attractive thought. I would like that if you would. We would have to talk to the twins, but they are mature young women now, and I’m sure they would understand easily. In a year they will be off to college and out on their own. They aren’t small children who would begrudge attention being taken away from them. If anything they might enjoy a bit less scrutiny.” Miranda smirked. “Not that they will get it, but they might think they will. And we have more than enough love to go around, don’t we, darling?”

“Of course we do. God, I love them so much, Miranda. I love you so much.” She leaned down and kissed Miranda gently. “I’m so sorry that happened to you and the little baby.”

“As am I, as am I.” Miranda looked into Andrea’s eyes again. “Any and all reservations I would have about this would be because I don’t want you to ever have to go through that pain. I want to protect you from everything that I can, but I also understand that somethings are worth the risk. You most certainly were and so were the twins. I can promise you I will be here for you no matter what happens. But god do I hope I never have to go through that again, and that does scare me. I might break under the pain. And I don’t think if that happened I could be with you in the way that you need.”

Andrea pushed her forelock off her head gently and kissed the forehead revealed by the action. “I think you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for, and also I know that the two of us will support the other no matter what and no matter how much pain we’re in. That’s what we’ve done the past six years and that’s what we’ll continue to do no matter what.”

They sat in silence for a while, hugging each other tightly. The tears that Miranda had held back for so long managed to break free. They soaked into Andrea’s shirt, but the other woman didn’t pull away. She made soothing circles on Miranda’s back while the other woman cried until no tears would come. She felt completely drained when she was done, but she felt lighter than she had in years. She snuggled further into Andrea and relaxed.

“You really want to do this?” Andrea asked later.

“If you want to, then yes, I do. I can’t promise at some point I won’t snap because of everything, but I do.”

Andrea fell silent for another minute. “Miranda?”

“Yes, darling?”

“What would you have named her?”

Miranda swallowed hard. “Hanna, I would have named her Hanna.” She swallowed. “It’s tradition in Jewish families to name your children after a deceased relative in their honor. She was my favorite aunt growing up, and so I was going to name the baby after her.”

“Miranda…”Andrea trailed off, obviously not sure if she should continue.

“Yes?”

“If we had a daughter, would you be opposed to naming her after Hanna? As a memorial to both your aunt and the little girl?”

Miranda thought about it for a second, thought about having to think about that day every time she called her daughter’s name, having to explain where the name came from eventually. She took a deep breath. Could she really do that? She wasn’t sure, but at the same time the name sounded right for a brown eyes little girl with a smile bright enough to light up the room. She would be as loving as her mother and as the aunt who was her namesake. She could live on and perhaps then the memory wouldn’t hurt so much.

“Yes, I think I would like that.”

But that didn’t matter. Couldn’t matter. She was Miranda Priestly and couldn’t have a relationship with someone much younger than her, who had been her former assistant and was most assuredly female. The press would rip her to shreds and that thought hurt her almost as much as the thought of the press having their wicked way with her girls. Beside the point, Andrea was straight. Her relationship with that scruffy cook boy more than proved it. Why would you fall for something like that otherwise? Then again, she could ask the same thing of herself, she supposed. At least for herself being with men was easier in the public light. Not that long ago she hadn’t had some trysts with the fairer sex, but those had stopped when the media had latched onto her like a dog and wouldn’t let go.

No, she wouldn’t do that to the girl. She knew the press and how horrible they could be. A girl from the Midwest wouldn’t stand a chance. She was too raw yet, hardened by city some, but she was still…wholly Andrea and that meant she was still a girl who cried over failure and trembled at Miranda’s worst tirades. Even if Miranda would gladly endure the media circus for her, it didn’t matter.

So, why exactly was she still ruminating on the subject? She cursed herself for her lack of focus and went back to the photographs before her. Choosing the cover of Runway was an art form. It set the tone for the whole issue. It was a task that deserved her whole attention. She put Andrea, and jealousy over spoons, to the side and stared straight ahead, but still could only see Andrea’s mouth wrapping around the eating utensil. She groaned inwardly, it was going to be an exceptionally long day.

 ---

 Andy was a calm and rational woman. She thought jealousy was the pettiest, stupidest emotion there was. If there was trust, there was no real jealousy, at least anything less fleeting than an instant. She was human after all and she realized that. Therefore jealousy over an inanimate object should not even be a consideration on her radar. And yet it was. She swallowed hard and typed a bit harder on her computer than necessary. Emily glared over at her and rolled her eyes. Andy ignored her as she always did.

The fact was she really couldn’t focus on anything other than the fact that Miranda was trailing her glasses along her bottom lip. Again. As she seemed to every day when she was concentrating. It drove Andy to the point of insanity. She wanted to stomp in Miranda’s office, throw those glasses away and replace them with her lips and proceed to kiss Miranda senseless. She was sure her lips would be so soft; god knew how many moisturizers Miranda had at home for her skin. And she was sure she would smell just as good. Andy groaned silently. She really shouldn’t taunt herself with things she couldn’t have.

Because, let’s face it, Andy wasn’t anywhere in Miranda Priestly’s league. And Miranda wouldn’t want to be dragged through the press just for a relationship with a girl from Ohio. And Miranda was straight. She had two ex-husbands to prove it. And if she wasn’t straight then why even end up with Stephen if there was another option. She shivered. Nate, as bad as he had been as the end, hadn’t even been a fraction of what Stephen had.

She answered another email, praying that the words she typed made sense. If it didn’t well, at least she could say later that she’d been hurrying because of something Miranda demanded. It always worked as an excuse. Everyone in the industry realized how demanding Miranda was as a boss.

Andy wondered if Miranda was as demanding in bed. She blushed brightly and immediately backed away from the thought. That was even worse than being jealous over glasses. She really just had to stop thinking right now. Really, she did. And she had to stop staring because eventually no matter how subtle she thought she was being Miranda would notice eventually, but she couldn’t just bring herself to rip her eyes away from the other woman and those stupid glasses.

A throat cleared beside her and she jumped and turned in one fluid motion. Nigel stood beside her with a smirk painted on his face.

“Like the view, Six?” He teased.

She blushed furiously no matter how hard she was trying not to. “I was just spaced out, Nigel, not staring or anything.”

Nigel shot her a disbelieving look. “Uh huh.” He shook his head. “Anyway, here’s the proofs she wanted and tell her I’ll give her a full report about the meeting with Testino when I get back.”

Andy nodded. “Ok.” She took the folder of proofs from him.

With another long, knowing look at her, Nigel shook his head before he walked out the door, coat in hand. Sufficiently chastened, Andy managed to walk into Miranda’s office and put down the folder Nigel had given her without really even looking at Miranda. She was sure if she looked she would get caught in bright blue eyes and then she would be doomed.

Miranda shifted just slightly, drawing Andy’s eyes up. She managed to stop herself before she got past calf level, freezing for a long moment just staring at shapely muscles. She managed to shake herself quickly and scurried back to her desk. It really was going to be a long, long day of not staring. She groaned quietly and set to answering another email.

---

Miranda walked into the outer office, stripped off her coat and threw it on Emily’s desk. Andrea turned around and looked at the noise Miranda’s heels made on the tile floor. She swallowed visibly and Miranda instantly wanted to worship that long column of pale skin with her mouth. She shook herself and started her normal firing off of orders.

Emily scurried after her into her office to catch every single quiet word that Miranda said. She walked around her desk and perused the magazines laid out in perfect fashion and the cup of Starbucks that was already waiting for her. She picked it up and enjoyed the heat of it warming her hand. Perfect temperature as always. Andrea never did cease to amaze.

She glanced out to the girl who was now bent over her desk to grab something. Her words petered off as she took in the sight. My god it was unfair for a girl to have such a luscious figure. She felt Emily staring at her waiting for Miranda to go on or dismiss her. Miranda turned her eyes on the girl and glared hard enough that it was obvious that she needed to leave the office right this instant. Honestly, did the girl have no sense of critical thinking?

Miranda watched as Andrea sat back in her seat, the thing she needed to get acquired. She sighed at the loss, envious of the chair that now held the girl’s delicious backside. What she wouldn’t give to have Andrea sitting on her instead. She shook herself. What kind of absolutely lecherous thought was that? She was not some grimy old businessman. She was above that. But god Andrea drove her to madness sometimes. So the odd thought wasn’t so surprising.

She sat down and tried to focus on her work. They had another photo shoot that went wrong and she was required to fix it once again. She needed to concentrate on that. The next issue could not go to print with four blank pages. She would not allow that to happen.

But her eyes kept drifting up to Andrea. And glaring at the chair that the girl was sitting in. And thinking about a great many things that were not appropriate for work. Ever.  She really had to stop staring. No matter how oblivious the girl could be at some points when she was working she would notice Miranda staring eventually. The last thing she wanted was a suit from human resources about sexual harassment. If Andrea was brave enough to file one, that was, but really losing her best assistant because she couldn’t control herself was ridiculous.

Miranda sighed, looked down again, and went over photograph after photograph trying to find something, anything at all, that was usable. But then there weren’t enough photos now that she could actually do the spread no matter how they worked it. She shoved them aside and called for Emily again. Another rapid fire round of orders and the ball was set rolling to schedule another shoot. They would be pushing it, but they would get it done.

And finally, with the amount of work that was now on her plate, Miranda forgot about chair and Andrea’s firm assets and finally managed to actually concentrate for once. Miranda massaged her temples as a headache started to form. It was going to be a very long day.

---

Andy stared at the very, very toned butt in front of her. And she was again supremely jealous of an inanimate object because the pencil skirt Miranda was wearing not only got to touch Miranda’s butt, but it got to touch it very, very intimately. It should be a sin how tight it was, how tight most of Miranda’s skirts were really. The woman knew she had a fantastic body and dressed to show it, much to Andy’s torment.

She sighed and glared a hole into her desk. She thought it would get better with a long weekend away from Miranda between the actual weekend and the two days Miranda had spent on sight at the reshoot of the winter coats layout. Of course it hadn’t. If anything Andy’s tolerance had waned and now she was more prone to staring than she had been before. She wanted to look her fill to make up for all she missed.

She groaned silently as Miranda stepped back just a half a step. She could see the muscles flexing under the fabric in front of her. Dear god above with a skirt that tight in order to avoid panty lines Miranda had to be wearing a thong or nothing at all. Andy went bright red and had to clench her legs together to stop a bolt of arousal from flowing through her. She had to get ahold of herself. Miranda had just walked in the door ten minutes ago. She had at least eight hours left on her work day. She couldn’t be squirming in her chair this early or Miranda would surely notice. And she would totally ruin what she had on and really, she didn’t want to have to explain to Nigel why in the world she couldn’t return the pants she was wearing.

Miranda took another step back and there was nowhere that Andy could look on her desk without seeing Miranda’s ass from her peripheral vision. Which meant that as soon as she saw it on the periphery she was staring again. God she hoped Emily didn’t look up from her obsessive note taking to see Andy staring right at Miranda in a very inappropriate place. The last thing she wanted was to get fired because of a sexual harassment charge. The ache that started in her chest at the thought of being fired took her breath away. She’d never see Miranda again. She didn’t know if she could stand that.

She took a deep breath and managed to look away. It was a nice view, but not nice enough to get fired for it. She liked being around Miranda more than she liked staring at attractive pieces of Miranda. She sighed and went back to arranging appointments for next week for Miranda. Scheduling for her was always an art. Some people called later for appointments but were important enough to skip the line and some called weeks and weeks ago but kept getting pushed back. Then she had to balance everything to give Miranda enough time to work, which was almost impossible, but she managed.

Eventually Miranda finally walked away from ordering Emily around. Andy sighed in relief and sat back. She could resist with the best of them, but not having the temptation was better. Emily attacked her with a list of things for her to do a minute later and she was gone in the swirl of the day, working with no time to give into rather interesting desires.

---

Miranda frowned out at the outer office. Andrea was sitting at her desk with Serena standing beside her, chatting amiably with the girl. Standing over the girl like that Miranda just knew that Serena had a very, very clear view down Andrea’s shirt. Really, with the few inches she had on Andrea she could probably see down the girl’s shirt rather easily even without hovering over her. Miranda was envious of that extra height. Even with five inch heels she was not taller than Andrea even when she wore relatively low three inch heels. She was sure the view would be delicious.

She shook herself. More and more frequently in the last few weeks she was having to remind herself that she did not have those sort of thoughts. They were more suited to Irv Ravitz than herself and the day that she accepted that she thought in any way, shape, or form like that rat of a man was the day she stepped in front of a bus. But it was getting harder and harder for her to refrain from staring when she could feel Andrea’s eyes on her more and more as of late. Catching the girl glancing hurriedly away from her with a blush high on her cheeks made that little bead of hope that she lived on swell inside her. Could perhaps the girl be interested in her as well?

Miranda sighed and turned so she was facing the windows. She was deluding herself, surely. She repeated the litany of reasons that Andrea would never be interested in her, but all it took was one look that was longer than socially acceptable between boss and employee for Miranda’s brain to shut out all those reasons and it wouldn’t see reason again for hours on end.

The truth of the matter was Andrea would leave like every other assistant before her and then Miranda would be alone again, at least romantically. The twins could do so very much for her and they made her happier than anyone else in the world, but there was still the part of her that wanted to be loved as a partner, an equal to someone, and being a mother did not fulfill those wants, as much as she wished it did most days.

She heard the clicking of heels as Serena and Emily went off to lunch together, laughing loudly as was their norm. God only knew what sort of office gossip they filled their free time with. She couldn’t be concerned with such things unless it affected the running of her magazine and, most often it didn’t. With the two of them gone it left her alone in the office with Andrea. Miranda gripped the arms of her chair. That should not be a thought that sent butterflies scuttling around her stomach. They had work to do, they had no time for foolishness. A magazine would not run itself and she would be damned if she let the magazine slip in quality on her watch. There was a reason it was the number one fashion magazine in the world, and that was her own iron will.

So why in the world was a girl from Ohio weakening that resolve. Why did she want to get out of her seat, walk to Andrea’s desk and stand where Serena had just been and talk to the other girl while looking her fill. Though, she wasn’t exactly sure that she would ever have her fill. It was a rather troubling thought.

The day continued on for a few long minutes. She heard Andrea’s every move acutely. Her extremely good hearing had helped her in the past, but right now it was driving her to insanity. She was always hyper aware of Andrea. She wondered idly if she should take Emily to the preview she had later today instead of Andrea just so she could concentrate, but then immediately dismissed the thought. She would focus even less if Andrea wasn’t there. She would just spend the whole time thinking of what the other woman could be doing.

She massaged her temples. She truly did have it bad if she was reduced to being as bad as a lovesick teenager. Honestly, she couldn’t remember ever being this bad even years ago when she had been a teenager and hormonally crazed. God, when the twins hit that age she was going to have her hands full.

Emily returned exactly twenty minutes later and dismissed Andrea for her short lunch. She heard Andrea’s heels clicking and then the hiss of the door as it closed behind her. Only then did Miranda allow herself to turn and get back to work again. Once the glaring errors in the layout captured her attention she relaxed into her seat with an evil little smile on her face. Someone was about to have just as bad a time as she was.

---

Andy swallowed hard once, then again. Her mouth and throat still felt like a desert. Miranda’s shirt was unbuttoned one more than usual today and it was giving Andy the most teasing glimpse of cleavage that ever existed. She was dying to see more. Like she was sure she was going to keel over in the next twenty seconds or so from heart palpitations. But what a way to go, staring at Miranda’s breasts. It was akin to drowning in chocolate or something else so completely decadent.

She shook herself. She was really letting this crush get out of hand. But then Miranda shifted half an inch and Andy could see just a bare inch more of Miranda’s chest and she forgot about the fact that now was when she was supposed to turn away and berate herself for ever objectifying Miranda in such a way. Because she had an infinite amount of respect for the woman, she wouldn’t have this giant crush on her if she didn’t, but as a bisexual woman sometimes you just had to blatantly ogle the hottest woman in the room. And Miranda was probably the hottest person in the world right now, so really, she should give herself at least some free passes on super hormonal days. Now was one of those times.

She heard the door open and the distinctive gate of Nigel walk into the room. Andy still couldn’t rip her gaze from Miranda. She would get that stupid freaking knowing look from the man, but she really didn’t care all that much. It was totally worth it today. As long as she didn’t get fired, anyway.

“Hey, Six, is she free for ten minutes or so? I need her opinion on this layout before I give the go ahead. I’m torn, I can’t figure if I love it or hate it.”

“Yeah, she’s free for the next hour or so. She’s going over shoot location choices for the September issue.”

She felt Nigel staring at her. Now she wasn’t going to look at him just out of spite. She wasn’t in the mood to see that look again. She was in much too good a mood to have it ruined by know it all art department directors.

Eventually she could practically hear Nigel shrug before he walked into Miranda’s office and started the discussion on the layout he had in hand. Andy was perfectly content with that development until Nigel walked right up in front of Miranda and blocked the view she had. She almost got out of her chair and physically moved him out of the way, but knew that was taking it way too far.

She sighed heavily and managed to turn back to her computer screen and get back to work, but not without a bit of grumbling in her mind. Nigel was gayer than a rainbow and he wouldn’t appreciate the view at all. It was more than a little unfair that it was being wasted on him.

Andy took a deep breath. She really was letting this crush get to her way too much. She needed to chill, maybe get laid or at least work off some of the tension herself, maybe then she would stop staring like some horn dog old man. She ran her hand through her hair and answered the email that had been on her screen for at least thirty minutes. Maybe she would take Lilly up on that offer to set her up on some blind date. At least it might get her mind off of Miranda for a little while if nothing else.

She glanced in the room where Nigel had just shifted a bit so Andy could see just a bit of Miranda. The breath left her for just a second at the way the light from the windows hit Miranda’s hair, making the silver-white glow ethereally. Or maybe not. Maybe not ever. And maybe she was more ok with that than she should be, but she really didn’t care.

---

A week later she was in the car again with Miranda riding back from a local shoot in the middle of Central Park. Andy was still shivering after being out in the cold for so long. She wasn’t sure how the models did it. Or Miranda for that matter. She’d held the woman’s coat earlier in the day and knew it wasn’t warm in the slightest with how thin it was. Yet, Miranda was sitting beside her not showing any signs of discomfort at all. Andy had learned the subtle cues that told her Miranda was not completely physically comfortable, but there were none on her face or in her body language at the moment. Maybe she truly was the Dragon Lady and had a heart full of fire that was keeping her warm. Andy almost snorted at the image, but managed to hold it in.

Miranda sighed and sat forward. “Roy, is there any possible way that we could move within the next century?”

Roy glanced over his shoulder and shrugged. “It’s gridlocked. If I could get over to one of the side lanes I could maybe take another way around, but every time someone moves the hole closes up in a second. I’ve been trying, Miranda, believe me, but it’s ten times worse than usual.”

Andy nodded along with his assessment. It was probably because of holiday traffic that they were trapped at the moment on 59th street. Andy didn’t really have a problem with this delay. With nothing really to do she could relax in the car and spend some time with Miranda, even if it was in silence. Miranda, on the other hand, was going to be a bear when they got back because she had to wait when she had better things to do. She prayed for everyone’s souls back at the office and sat back for the ride.

Miranda huffed after a few more minutes of inching forward through Manhattan before she settled back against her seat again and put on her glasses and dug out her notes from the shoot to reread, making little notations in the margins where she found them lacking. Andy groaned internally. It should be a crime for attractive women to wear glasses, it made them exponentially hotter and no one could really handle it. She knew she definitely couldn’t. Especially now that she was imaging taking those glasses off and kissing Miranda delicately on the mouth and making this little delay worth their while.

She sighed and dug around in her purse. She pulled out her cell phone, checked Miranda’s email where there was nothing since Emily was on top of everything since they were out of the office, and then went to play a few games of solitaire. She thought she could walk faster to Elias-Clarke than the car would get them there, but then again the car was warm and it was thirty degrees out and Miranda was here, so it didn’t really matter.

When she looked up from her fifth game Miranda had the glasses tracing her bottom lip again. Andy couldn’t help it, the words slipped from her mouth. “Stupid god damn glasses.” Her eyes widened to dinner plates in a second. Shit. There was no way Miranda hadn’t heard that.

Miranda turned to her, looking at her with deep blue eyes, sharp with impatience. “What did you say, Andrea?”

“Um, I said stupid god damn glasses. I was just looking for my sunglasses, but they aren’t in my purse. I always seem to be losing them.” She shrugged hoping against hope the other woman would buy the excuse.

“Andrea, what is the real reason? You haven’t dug in your purse for anything in the last fifteen minutes and even then you withdrew your cell phone, and it is December, sunglasses are hardly needed.” She gestured to the outcast sky that was barely light now that evening was approaching.

Andy swallowed. Now that Miranda was hyper alert trying to detect a lie, there was no way that she wouldn’t catch Andy if she tried another innocuous fib. She’d seen the woman do it enough times with people she barely even knew, and Miranda knew her better than a great many of the people she did business with. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard, throat bobbing visibly. If she was Catholic this was when she’d start saying her Hail Mary’s. But she wasn’t Catholic, so she just panicked instead.

“I, um, your glasses.” She took another deep breath. There wasn’t any other way to say this than all in one big rush to get it over with, something like ripping off a Band-Aid. “I may be a little jealous of your glasses when you do that thing where you rub the ear piece along your bottom lip. I kind of want to take them out of your hands and replace them with my lips instead.”

Oh here it was, she was going to be fired right then and there and it would be a long cold ride on the subway back to the Lower East Side. Then it would be a cold life after that what with the absence of Miranda in her life and the subsequent blacklisting. She was an absolute fucking idiot who couldn’t keep her mouth shut. She would beat herself up for years to come over this moment, she knew. She just hoped Miranda wasn’t too horrible, nothing of the Cerulean lecture proportions again. She wanted to snort, if Miranda was on form the Cerulean lecture would have nothing on this.

“Andrea, this is one of the few times I’m going to ask you to elaborate on what you said. Spare me no detail.”

Andy wanted to scream. She didn’t want to tell Miranda more than she already had, Miranda would just have more ammo to use against her. However, what Miranda asked for Miranda got. “I want to kiss you, Miranda. I really want to do a lot more than that, but I realize that it’s completely inappropriate to have feelings for your boss, and you’re completely out of my league anyway, but it seems I’m unable to help it, no matter how many times I mentally slap myself. Believe me, I’ve tried about everything, but…” She shrugged. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, and I really hope you don’t fire me because I really do think I’m learning a lot in this job and as hectic as it is I enjoy it, that might just be because you’re there, but I guess it doesn’t really matter as long as I like being there.” She gulped in a breath after saying all that in almost one go.

“Explicitly stated you are romantically attracted to me and wish to pursue a relationship.” Miranda blinked slowly.

“Yeah, that’s what I just said, though I guess it could have been stated a hundred times better.”

Miranda relaxed just the slightest bit. “Oh thank god I don’t have to be jealous of a spoon anymore.”

But Andy didn’t have a chance to question what that odd statement meant before Miranda was dragging her across the seat and crushing their lips together. Andy’s world exploded in a shower of sparks and the dark taste of Miranda’s lips. They were totally as soft as she had imagined. And when Miranda’s tongue sought entrance, she allowed it, only to almost pass out from the feeling a second later. Oh, she hoped that this kiss meant everything she thought it did because she wasn’t about to live without this again; she didn’t know if she could.

Miranda drew away what felt like seconds later, but Andy saw they’d moved at least three blocks further. She swallowed. She’d never lost that much time in a kiss. Oh holy hell.

“Wow,” Andy said for lack of anything better to say.

Miranda smiled genuinely and for the first time in the year and a half that Andy knew her, laughed long and loud. Andy wanted to hear that noise again and again, wanted to be the cause of that laugh, wanted so much. And just maybe, she’d get to have it. Andy grinned back and scooted a bit closer to Miranda.

“Wow, indeed.” Miranda wrapped her arm around Andy’s shoulders and drew her in for another kiss.