Saying that Miranda Priestly is blessed with a vivid imagination is both a waste of breath and time; her livelihood depends upon it. Saying that Miranda has never been with a woman before is basically a waste of breath and time too, so it's a given that in many ways, she has no idea what to expect or even do other than act on instinct and Andrea's instruction.
She doesn't have to be instructed though. From the first touch, Miranda knows what to do. She knows her hand, moving slowly and gently, sometimes with only the very tips of her fingers, will give Andrea exactly what she needs.
Even though they are in a tub full of warm water, the place where Andrea needs Miranda's touch this most is hot, slick with arousal and hard. And there is a definite change in the rest of Andrea's body. Tension… Not the kind that is associated with hesitation or dread, but a tension made from… Well, Miranda isn't sure if that's right word or not. Tension might not even be what this is.
In her mind, as Miranda's hand continues to move and Andrea continues to trust, all the energy in the room is pulled inward. Miranda can literally see currents of energy, brightly colored, being pulled into the center of them, of what they are, together in this bathtub. The quiet moans and slight whimpers that escape the woman in her arms are echoing throughout the electrical current, only to bounce off the walls and come right back. Everything is being pulled inside and Andrea's body is storing it all, waiting for a release that is slowly coming. In the absence of shame, Miranda spreads her legs wider to gain more contact; her own release is not very far away. With Andrea pressed against her so tightly, not much more is needed.
It's barely noticeable but Miranda feels pressure applied to her hand. Her brain is in a million pieces but she is able to comply. A desperate gasp for air and the faintest cry from Andrea's lips is all that is heard, yet the intensity of it is profound; more energy is created and bound up inside. Miranda can see it in the air and feel it in the woman she holds. Kissing Andrea's cheek, then along her ear, Miranda whispers, "This is so beautiful. You are so beautiful, Andrea." She moves her hand down just a little then and back up quickly.
The sob stuck inside Andrea's throat is easily located. Miranda kisses the side of her neck and bites down gently, right where it ought to be…and she is right. Andrea opens her mouth and finally, the cry is released and with it, Miranda's hands. She is now trusted, in this at least, to give Andrea what she needs.
But, with her left hand free to wander, Miranda's own desires start to make her forget about what Andrea needs. Or so she thinks. When she begins to touch and tease the breasts that have been torturing her for two straight days—probably longer than that—Andrea's nails dig into the skin of Miranda's thighs and she guesses that their desires are in sync after all.
Andrea hastily adds her mouth into the equation, kissing whatever parts of Miranda she can reach with her head tipped back…and then, with an arm thrown back around Miranda's neck Andrea pulls her in. Her eyes are closed when they kiss but Miranda can still see the electrical currents, flowing through the room and building up inside Andrea. She can see everything.
Miranda isn't sure how Andrea has held back this long but finally, her body starts to move ever so slightly against Miranda's hand. Just as a few moments ago, Miranda slides her fingers down then quickly back up, producing that same gasp and sob, which is no longer muted but fully given to Miranda in another deep kiss. Since it seems to be an approved action, Miranda keeps on, never entering but moving down far enough for the anticipation of it to be present, then slowly upward in a swirling motion. If Andrea is close…then Miranda is even more so.
Taking that into consideration, it is no shock to her that she begins to lose herself in the movement of Andrea's body. Even though they're still kissing and Miranda's eyes are still closed, she becomes a quick study on how to make Andrea move in just the right way. Every time Miranda allows the fingers of her right hand to slip down just so…and the fingers of her left to tease and pinch Andrea's breasts…she moves in just the right way. And the sounds she makes… Miranda can't hold on any longer, and amazingly enough, Andrea knows it.
Ripping her mouth away, Andrea tells Miranda exactly what she wants her to do. "Come," she says, taking Miranda's left hand up again, holding it there where it has been teasing and playing with her breasts for who knows how long. "I know you want to," she whispers in Miranda's ear. The feeling of her breath on Miranda's skin and gentle movement of Andrea's hips is more than enough.
Miranda isn't quiet at all and if she had the brainpower left to comprehend anything, it would scare her. This has never happened before. This incredibly loud expression—most of which makes no sense—has never happened before. In fact, she can barely hear Andrea, who is still whispering words of encouragement that aren't really needed, but sound so seductive.
Trying to catch her breath on the other side is a wasted effort. Andrea's right hand has rejoined hers under the water and the movement is quicker now, forceful even. And she is so wet, full of electricity; her release is so close. But something is keeping her from it. Miranda can sense it and automatically knows words of seduction aren't what are needed. Maybe later. But not this time.
"I won't let go of you, Andrea." Miranda tells her, trying to sound as serious as possible—which is a little hard since she can't breathe. "I'm staying right here with you. I'm staying…"
Those are the words that bring release.
Everything in the room is pulled in as Andrea lets out the softest whimper. This soft sound is breathtaking but what happens next is even more so. That sound is still hanging in the air but it is quickly taken back and returned as a scream. The kind of scream Miranda had been thinking about earlier today, wondering if she could cause it…
All the electricity stored up in Andrea's body is released along with it, and to Miranda it appears as a shockwave, rippling out with such a tremendous force that everything around them is left shattered and broken. She fully expects the tub to crack, right along with the marble flooring.
The wave continues on. Miranda does not stop, even though Andrea's hands have let her go, in favor of clutching the sides of the tub, Miranda does not stop. She stays right where she is, sliding her fingers up and down so quickly, adding more pressure at the end of each wave, just so another one can be created.
Finally, when the woman in her arms has all but ceased to breathe, Miranda wraps both arms around Andrea's waist and buries her face in her neck. It is a long time before either of them speaks. No words are even spoken when Andrea regains the strength required to scoot around—sloshing water everywhere in the process—until she is sitting sideways with her legs draped over Miranda's thighs. The tub is certainly large enough for it. And of course, Miranda still has not let go of her. They both stay and ironically, that's the topic Andrea chooses to finally speak about first. Out of everything else that could be said about what has just happened…that is what she chooses.
"You didn't let go," she says, kissing Miranda's left shoulder several times in the process.
Miranda can't think of anything else to say besides, "I told you I wouldn't."
"But?" Miranda asks because it's only natural that a 'but' be in here somewhere. Hopefully it is one she can negotiate around quickly.
"You could…you know." Andrea's voice sounds small and untrusting. "You could send me away now. You could say this was a mistake."
Miranda takes a deep breath. In fact, she takes several. This girl is like a yo-yo. But of course she is… And Miranda's held the string for a very, very long time, causing all sorts of damage along the way. She just never noticed how much damage until now.
"I did not let go of you because I couldn't, Andrea." Miranda pulls Andrea firmly to her to prove the point. "I cannot send you away or tell you this is a mistake, either. I simply can't. Even if you wanted me too…I can't let go. All I can do is ask you to stay."
"But you don't ask anyone to stay."
Miranda can't help but smile, remembering Caroline's words and the look on Andrea's face when she repeated them in the elevator. No, Miranda never asks anyone to stay.
"But you," Miranda kisses her softly, "are not just anyone, Andrea. I asked you to stay that night because the thought of you leaving wasn't something I could tolerate. And you stayed," Miranda continues. "Since then… I haven't been right." Andrea looks at her, clearly puzzled so Miranda goes on to clarify things. "You're all I can think about. I can't sleep. I read that stupid blog so I can blame it on anything else but you. But it is you, darling. You are what keeps me awake at night. Not Arianna Huffington."
Andrea immediately laughs, "All of me?" She laughs some more. "Or just my breasts?"
Glaring hard to keep from laughing too, Miranda says, "All of you."
"Oh, well that's nice," she says, smiling sweetly, turning the 'innocence' factor on high.
It's hard to resist but Miranda does her best by huffing and puffing a little, and rolling her eyes of course. Andrea takes care of that right away though by running her wet hands through Miranda's hair. She can't help but sigh. "I like that," she sighs again.
"I do too. Sometimes… I barely stop myself in time."
"From?" Miranda tries to raise an eyebrow but forgets how as soon as Andrea's hands are in her hair again.
"Touching your hair. At work. Touching any part of you."
A frown instantly appears on Miranda's face. They aren't supposed to talk about work. Cassidy said so.
"I know," Andrea says, reading Miranda's mind. "We're not supposed to talk about work. Cassidy said so."
"Right." That's all Miranda can say.
Andrea leans in and rests her head against Miranda. "But it's inevitable. Don't you think?"
"Well, yes." Miranda closes her eyes and leans her head against the tile, unwilling to contemplate that Andrea just might falter when they start talking about this topic. There's no way Miranda can bare that right now. "She probably just wanted us to get through…tonight."
"She's very smart," Andrea says and it is clear she is being serious. "They both are."
"Too smart." Miranda replies.
"But with good intentions."
Miranda begins to chuckle but her breath catches in her throat when Andrea's hand comes to rest on her sternum. For a moment they stare at each other in complete silence. Everything is so quiet and still; you can hear water dripping from the faucet. Miranda's never noticed that before. The faucet dripping. Then again she hardly has time for baths. But the girls do. With neon bubble bath and nail polish and…
Suddenly, Miranda can only think of one thing she'd like to say. And it's dumb. Truly it is the dumbest thing and she honestly can't remember the last time she has said this to anyone that isn't her child. But she just can't help herself.
"Happy Valentine's Day," Miranda says, ending the silence.
"It's probably passed midnight by now." Andrea states matter-of-factly, but with a warm smile on her lips. "Who cares, though, right?" That warm smile turns into a full-blown grin. "Happy Valentine's Day, Miranda."
Miranda tries to say something else, what it is, she doesn't even know because Andrea is kissing her and her hands are moving to all kinds of places that Miranda needs her to touch. Until this moment, Andrea's hands have been far better behaved than Miranda's…but now they are decadently not behaving. Even though she's sitting in a tub, her knees go weak when Andrea's hands roam over her breasts, down her sides and back up again. The way she traces over Miranda's nipples with her thumbnail as she teases her relentlessly is enough to flip some sort of unknown about switch inside Miranda's head.
"Come here," she growls and pulls at Andrea's hips until the girl is straddling her lap. More water goes over the side, but isn't that what towels are for?
It wasn't her intention but turning her around like this means all thoughts of Andrea's hands on her are pretty much blown right out the window. In the blink of an eye, Andrea's hands aren't so important anymore. With one look Andrea seems to know what Miranda wants now and brings a hand to the back of her neck, pulling her forward as she sits up a little straighter.
Miranda's brain is absolutely nowhere to be found as she holds Andrea firmly by the hips and flicks her tongue out lightly to tease and taste Andrea's breasts…her mouth is dying to taste Andrea's skin. Andrea, however, is apparently not in the mood for teasing. She threads her fingers through Miranda's hair again and directs her.
"I need your mouth, Miranda," she's panting already. "Please..."
Miranda would like very much to state that there is absolutely no need to ever make the request once, much less beg for it, but forgets to as Andrea pulls at her again, clearly in need. Who is Miranda to refuse? She is in just as much need.
If staring at and touching Andrea's breasts turns Miranda into a burnt up mess, then finally putting her mouth there causes even more brain damage. And the sounds Andrea makes... In this, she is very vocal in her praise, which only serves to turn Miranda into some kind of crazed animal. Suddenly, she is hungry in a way she never thought possible.
While Andrea rocks against her and holds her head, guiding Miranda, all she can focus on are the different textures, tastes and sounds. And like so many other things, fear of going too far, becoming overzealous, or handling Andrea too roughly, are unwarranted now. It is apparent Miranda has been given the freedom to do whatever she wants.
There will definitely be physical evidence in the morning of all the things Miranda is finally getting to try out. It's even likely that there will be handprints on Andrea's hips since Miranda can't seem to let go. There will probably be handprints on Miranda's shoulders too—maybe even one on the back of her neck—since Andrea can't seem to let go either. She can't imagine complaining about it in the morning though. Whenever morning comes. They might miss it all together.
In the middle of all this mind-blowing fun, Miranda's is unexpectedly pulled back. Not in admonishment, but to be kissed hard and deep. And so much for not getting Andrea's hair wet. Miranda has no trouble undoing it and Andrea's luxurious, long, dark hair spills down her back and into the water. From there, Miranda's hands return to Andrea's breasts and then it happens. Without a single touch, Andrea comes. The whimper and scream that follow are muffled by their kiss but still, it shatters everything around them as the waves of electricity make their escape. And this time, water escapes the bathtub as well.
At this point, Miranda probably doesn't have enough towels to take care of it but couldn't care less. At this point, water could flow into the bedroom, down the stairs and out the front door, and Miranda wouldn't care. Having to possibly rip out miles of soaked carpet is nothing.
When the waves—both figuratively and literally—finally cease, Andrea isn't able to do anything but lay heavily against Miranda. She is all that is holding Andrea together and Andrea is all that is keeping Miranda from sliding straight down into the water. They stay like this for a while, catching their breath, allowing their hearts the chance to remember how to beat regularly.
One thing is clear. Miranda will never forget this night. She will never forget that busy week, the sinus infections; being robbed months later, then given the most precious thing in return—two colorful boxes of candy. It is the best money Miranda has ever lost.
Eventually the woman in her arms stirs but Miranda is in some other place; lightly running her hands up and down Andrea's back has put her under a spell. Kisses across her face bring Miranda to the surface though, and she can't help but smile.
"You're awake," Andrea says.
"Of course I'm awake." Miranda opens her eyes and for a second her mind goes blank. Andrea has never looked more beautiful. Before she can say so, Andrea takes the words right out of her mouth.
"You have no idea how beautiful you are; do you?"
Miranda rolls her eyes. "It's all in your head." Because she is not. Just as Miranda has never been enough, she is not beautiful either. People tell her that to kiss her ass. Not because it is true.
"People would never guess how little you think of yourself." Andrea says as she puts her hands on either side of Miranda's face.
This, of course, prevents Miranda from looking away. It prevents her from even frowning, rolling her eyes or saying something awful to deflect what is happening. Yet again, it is obvious that Andrea has solved far more puzzles than Miranda could have ever expected.
"I'll just have to show you how much you're worth. Just like you'll have to show me how my feelings aren't nothing."
Miranda manages to shake her head in agreement. It's as if a deal has been struck and she imagines that they will teach each other many things. Mainly—how to be better to themselves. Because let's face it; Miranda treats herself worst of all and until now, no one has caught on. This has never happened before. No one has ever pinned her down, correctly labeling all the pieces. Not until Andrea came along.
Somewhere close by there is a tear just waiting to escape. To push it away, Miranda says the first thing that comes to mind.
"I'm sorry I got your hair wet."
"That's okay." Andrea smirks and surprise, surprise—it turns Miranda on like crazy and that tear is the last thing on her mind.
"Let's get out of here," Miranda says with a smirk of her own as she kisses Andrea's palm.
A year goes by.
Not all of it plays out smoothly and refusing to let go certainly helps when the Press eventually finds out about Miranda and a woman that is half her age. Ironically enough, it's not the fact that Andrea is a former employee—having moved on several months after their first date in a bathtub—or that she is even a woman that they chose to focus on. It is the age difference. The reason this is so ironic? Well, in all the months of conversation that happen over take-out, or late at night in bed, they've discussed just about every facet of their relationship except this—the age difference. There always seemed to be more important things to discuss than their ages. It's not as if either of them can do anything about it so why discuss it?
Andrea moves in while the media has their fun…and their parents flip out. That in its self is pretty weird for Miranda. Her parents. Flipping out. Especially her father, whom she loves so much… It feels like she is a teenager all over again; skipping school and making bad grades. He is angry and disappointed. And of course it's just as bad for Andrea.
According to both sets of parents, the world is coming to an end and Hell is only a short distance away.
But Miranda and Andrea manage to hold on through all the scrutiny and so do Caroline and Cassidy. After all, the whole damn thing is their fault anyway, right? In fact, sometimes it is Caroline and Cassidy themselves—and those two boxes made of pink and red card-stock with silver hearts glued all over—that keep them from letting go.
It was decided early in their relationship to display the boxes on the table where the Book goes, so Miranda and Andrea would always see them. That turns out to be one of the best ideas ever because it constantly reminds them of what they stand to lose and how they got here in the first place. Above all else, two little redheads are counting on them to stay. So they stay.
Months later, their parents feelings on the matter aren't improving as fast as either of them hoped for. Miranda's father and Andrea's mother have lightened up a bit but things are still rocky. Cassidy says not to worry though because being a lesbian is becoming more and more popular every day. Caroline's only contribution to the issue is to buy everyone in her class a gift to celebrate gay pride when the time comes around for it.
But frankly, today Miranda couldn't care less what either set of parents thinks of them because she's too busy being a parent herself. And hey, it's her anniversary, too. Which isn't going at all like she thought it would.
A year ago, they agreed that every Valentine's Day would be spent exactly the same way as their first. In the bathtub. But, Miranda has a pretty good feeling that that is not going to happen and she is absolutely correct.
Since it falls on a weekend this year, Caroline and Cassidy are supposed to be with their father. Yet, at two o'clock on Friday morning, two very sick girls wake them, crawling into their bed burning up with fever. Today, Valentine's Day, is no better and Miranda calls the doctor. Thirty minutes after his arrival, it is evident that sinus infections seem to be making a visit yet again. This makes the third one in a year.
The doctor is still there when Andrea comes up behind Miranda, who is sitting on the couch with the girls while Dr. Russell continues his assessment. She leans down and kisses the top of Miranda's head then whispers, "I'll be back. Chinese food. Perfect cure."
Miranda turns her head quickly, searching Andrea's face for the disappointment that will surely be there since plans are obviously changing. Disappointment is the last thing she finds though. All there is an affectionate smile.
"Be careful," Miranda finally says while Cassidy, as sick as she is, informs Dr. Russell that his tie is outdated and so are his business cards. And Caroline, as sick as she is, begins to tell Dr. Russell exactly where he can find a better tie and better business cards. "Don't forget the crab puffs."
"Oh, I won't." Andrea winks at her then turns to go.
Not long after that, Dr. Russell leaves with notes on ties and business cards.
Miranda prepares the living room for a feast of movies, drugs and food while both girls apologize endlessly for ruining their anniversary. But even though Miranda is initially a little disappointed herself, she can't think of a better way they should be spending this time now. She can take a bath any night she wants to and does, having banned the girls from the master bathroom a year ago. Not only that, but since there is a beautiful woman to share the tub with—Miranda mysteriously finds herself with all sorts of time for such things now.
Once the girls are settled and a movie has been fought over, Miranda takes up residence at the front window. Finally spotting Andrea coming down the street with two heavy bags, Miranda goes out to meet her.
"Not gonna give me a chance to ring the doorbell this year?" Andrea says, leaning in to kiss Miranda in the open air as she takes a bag. They quit caring about the paparazzi a long time ago. There is no use in hiding; it gets them nowhere.
"Why bother?" Miranda sighs then smiles. "Cassidy's already got her neon walls, so it doesn't make a bit of difference. This is much nicer; don't you think? Meeting you out here?"
"Yes, much nicer. I still don't know how she figured out we fucked that up, though."
"Neither do I," Miranda sighs again as she opens the front door and tries hard not to think about what a sucker she is.
They sit the bags down on the floor once they're inside so Miranda can help Andrea out of her coat. Andrea is the one that hangs it up in the closet though, because Miranda has yet to learn how such tasks are completed without many failures in between very few successes. Mainly, it's just because she enjoys hearing Andrea bitch under her breath about how hopeless she is whenever the coats fall.
After closing the closet door, Andrea turns and wraps her arms around Miranda's neck. Nothing is said as they stare. This kind of silent 'hello' is odd but clearly a custom they are used to. They figured out a long time ago that in some things, words are seldom needed. Patricia, however, highly disagrees and begins to bark since Andrea has yet to acknowledge her.
Andrea barely turns her head enough to look down. "Will you shut up, please," she says playfully. "You'll get your turn in a minute."
"It's rude to keep her waiting," Miranda teases.
"I don't care."
"I really don't either."
There is more silence but it's only because they're kissing and not letting go. But as usual, when the girls are near, all good things must come to an end. Or at least good things of this nature.
"Mom!" Cassidy yells from the living room, sounding like death. "Stop kissing and hurry up! I want soup!"
They let out big breaths of air simultaneously and head toward the kitchen with the food. Duty calls but in reality, Valentine's Day is just beginning. Miranda is hopeful that once everyone is medicated, fed and tired out from a movie—they'll still get to celebrate as planned.
But even if they don't, even if they end up playing Scrabble all night and fall asleep on the couch later…it will be enough. Their level of happiness is not dependent upon the activities of the day or even the night. It is dependent upon the fact that they are simply here to begin with. And that they're both staying. That's all.
A/N: This story was only finished because of constant encouragement from Elliewrites on FFnet. Encouragement and shoves in the right direction are few and far between these days, and she arrived right on time. Naturally, it hardly needs to be said that this final chapter is hers. I just pray to God that she likes it!