By the Candle Lights at Smith & Wollensky

A MirAndy short story

By Gun Brooke

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. Other lucky people own these characters. I just play.

Pairing: Andy/Miranda

A/N: I'm still committed to finish my ongoing stories-all of them-but I've learned to go with the muse so I don't get writer's block. *shudder* I hope you'll like this two-part, one-shot.

Part 2

Miranda's study was located on the second floor. Andy had been there twice before, very short stints delivering the Book to Miranda when she had sprained an ankle and was home alone. Andy remembered Miranda sitting in a plush armchair, very annoyed and exasperated. At the time, Andy had found it mildly ironic that those lethal Prada shoes Miranda loved so much had been the cause of her injury. Her heel had got caught in something outside a restaurant and only the fact that Roy was by her side had kept Miranda from going down completely. Roy had told Andy the whole story and made her swear not to repeat it. Andy had kept her word.

Now she looked around the cozy room with its cherry wood built-in bookshelves and desk, the same couch and armchair as before, and the thick curtains Miranda just closed. Andy forced back a hysterical laughter at the sudden idea that Miranda was making sure the neighbors didn't witness Andy being throttled.

"Want some more wine?" Miranda nodded toward the small bar area.

"No, thank you. I have a feeling adding alcohol to this is a mistake."

"This?" Miranda stopped in mid-step and raised an eyebrow.

"Our conversation. Talking with you…surely you know it's like navigating a minefield."

To Andy's surprise, this made Miranda chuckle. "I haven't heard that, actually," she said and sat down on the couch, patting the cushion next to her. "Join me. I can't keep tilting my head back to look at you. It'll give me a migraine."

"Heaven forbid." Andy sat down, half turned toward Miranda. Their knees were almost touching.

"Better." Miranda adjusted her statement necklace and it seemed she wasn't quite sure how to begin. This unusual uncertainty tore at Andy's heart. Very rarely had she seen Miranda vulnerable. The memory of a pale, teary-eyed woman she'd come across in Paris when that idiot Stephen had over-night sent Miranda divorce papers in the middle of Paris Fashion Week, floated to the surface. It still broke her heart thinking about it, which is why Andy had kept this deeply buried. Twenty-four hours after seeing Miranda like that, Andy had left her without so much as a word.

Groaning, Andy covered her eyes as if to slap the burning tears back into the tear ducts. How was it this still pained her so? Miranda had treated her so badly, so many times, during the eight months she'd worked for her. Taken her for granted, made her feel like an idiot, and fat.

"What are you thinking?" Miranda pulled Andy's hand down from her eyes.

Andy gasped at the gentle touch. When Miranda didn't let go of her hand, she stared at it as if it belonged to someone else. Now all she could think of was the multitude of times their hands had met, accidentally. How often their bodies had brushed against each other in doorways. The rides in the town car when Miranda's perfume, that seductive, clean scent, tinged with something dark and deep. It was her scent alone, created for her by one of the finest perfume makers in the world working for Givenchy. Warmed by Miranda's skin, it became part of what made her so dangerous. Not thinking of the consequences, Andy whispered exactly that. "You're dangerous."

Miranda's hand squeezed her gently. "And why is that?"

"You know why." Andy smiled wryly. "You're used to power. Getting what you want."

"And how does that make me dangerous?" Miranda frowned. "Unless you suggest I use my power to deliberately hurt people?"

Andy shook her head. "I'm not talking about 'people'. I'm being purely selfish here. I'm, talking about how you affect me. You have the ability to go deep beneath my skin—and I let you. It's as if I can't ignore you no matter how I try. Hell, who am I kidding? I don't even try. I eagerly gain you entrance to that part of me I keep locked to other people." Andy was out of breath and trembling.

Miranda studied her closely, still holding her hand. "You're possibly the bravest person I've ever met." She rubbed her thumb against the back of Andy's hand. It sent tingles up Andy's arm and she closed her eyes briefly. The innocent touch made her press her thighs together and all she could think in that moment was to kiss Miranda. Her eyes locked on the pale, pink lips before her. Perhaps her staring made Miranda unsettled as she licked her lips a couple of times and shifted where she sat on the couch.

"I'd hate to disappoint you, or for your to regret your words," Andy said, murmuring as she leaned in. This had to happen. She might crash and burn, but she had to know. As she closed the distance between them, she cupped Miranda's soft cheek with her free hand and gently pulled her closer.

Miranda had the softest lips Andy had ever kissed. The texture of them, the taste, even the powdery feel of her high end lipstick, all combined to drive Andy crazy. She kept the kisses light and even if she at first half expected Miranda to push her away in utter shock, it didn't take her long to realize how Miranda trembled against her.

"Mm. Shh," Andy murmured against Miranda's mouth. "You're fine. I'm not going to jump your bones."

"No?" Miranda's left hand snuck in below Andy's hair, cupping her neck. "You're certain of that?"

"Well…" Andy gently tugged at Miranda's lower lip with her teeth. "Unless you want to be jumped."

Miranda's other arm wrapped around Andy's waist. "You're very accommodating." She pressed her lips hard on Andy's, as if she'd been holding back, but had enough of restraining herself. Bending Andy backward, she pushed her against the backrest. "Andrea, part your lips for me."

Andy's heart thundered as she complied. Miranda's tongue pushed slowly into her mouth. Shy, all of a sudden, Andy met it slowly with her own tongue, only to have it taken hostage in a deep, passionate kiss. Forgetting all about any bashfulness, Andy drowned in the ocean that was Miranda. She gripped at any body part to stay afloat, shoulders, upper arms, waist, and eventually her hands were cupping Miranda's breasts through the dress. "Damn, Miranda, I'm going to ruin the dress."

"Then by all means, lets disrobe and go upstairs."

Andy stood, eagerly at first, but something made her halt. "Wait, Miranda. This is going a bit fast."

Miranda's eyes narrowed as she stood as well. "You're having regrets?"

"No. No!" Struggling to push her raging hormones aside, to make sense through the mist of desire, Andy tried again. "I want you more than I've ever wanted anyone. I'm crazy for you, but…"

"But you fear I'll regret everything in the morning and send you packing." Miranda sighed and her body went still. "You don't trust me, and why should you?"

"I want to." Andy whispered the words and wished she could say that she did and let go of her trepidations.

"I however trust you implicitly. Ironic, isn't it?" Miranda turned her back. "Unzip me, please."

Andy blinked repeatedly, but pulled down the long, hidden zipper with unsteady hands. Why was Miranda undressing when she knew how Andy felt? Was she doing it to seduce Andy? Or…Andy shivered. Was she showing her trust by making herself vulnerable before Andy? For all Miranda knew, Andy might decide this was too much and leave. Then again, she'd said she trusted Andy implicitly. So, this might be a show of faith. If Andy let Miranda down now, she knew, knew for a fact, there'd be no second chances.

Why had she gone home with Miranda? Had supper with her and talked about sensitive things that mattered? If it wasn't to take the biggest chance on potential happiness, then why? If she crashed and burned, the recovery would be steep, but if she chickened out, she'd always regret it.

Andy pushed the dress down Miranda's body and hung it carefully across the desk chair. Keeping the initiative, she repeated the maneuver with her own dress. She stood motionless for a moment, wearing only her strapless bra, stockings and thin, lace boy-briefs. Holding out her hand to Miranda, her heart began to beat faster, each contraction bordering on pain. Miranda, dressed similarly to Andy, but where Andy's lingerie was burgundy, hers were stark white.

"Couch? Bedroom?" Andy took Miranda's hand and kissed her palm.

"Bedroom. I want to be comfortable and have plenty of room. " Miranda's voice was matter of fact and sure as always. The fact she sounded raspy still gave some onset of nerves away. Miranda led Andy toward a bedroom, clearly hers, Andy figured as she stepped over the threshold. Pale blue, ivory, and gold, made for a serene and beautiful room. A white four poster bed sat center stage, it's ocean blue bedspread folded down on the right side for the night. Two nightstand lamps created a soft, muted light.

Miranda tugged at Andy's hand, pulling her toward the bed. "Come."

Stopping by the bed, Miranda removed her own bra and then reached around Andy and unclasped hers. Their breasts pressed together, and it was wonderful, but Andy wanted to look at Miranda. She had never in a million years thought she'd see Miranda in any form of undress, but here she was, disrobing further right before her.

"Let me help you." Andy knelt before Miranda and rolled down her stockings, revealing perfect, smooth legs. Now all that remained was the lace panties and before she lost her nerve, Andy slid them slowly down Miranda's legs.

"Oh, my God," Miranda whispered, pushing her fingers into Andy's hair. Her voice trembled and so did her legs.

"You're beautiful." Andy pressed her lips to Miranda's thighs, kissing and inhaling. Miranda's scent was muskier here, and sweet and tangy and…She wanted to taste her. More than that, she wanted to hold Miranda so tight, so close, they merged more than their bodies. Her fears and doubts were still there, but pushed to the background and silenced by the overwhelming arousal.

Miranda slid her fingers inside Andy's panties and pushed them down her legs, following them until she was down on one knee before her. Andy could hardly breathe and it was as if her brain was about to explode at the sight of the white head at the level of her hips. Miranda peeled down Andy's thigh-high stockings and tossed them aside. "Very sexy, but I want to feel your skin." Miranda's voice, hoarse and barely audible made Andy whimper.

"Please, Miranda." Andy reached down for Miranda, but instead the other woman gripped her hips and nuzzled her inner thighs. "Oh, sweet Jesus," Andy moaned. "You're going to be the death of me, aren't you?"

"La petite mort? I promise you'll live." Miranda chuckled and seemed to regain some of her usual assertiveness. She kissed her way up Andy's abdomen until she reached her lips.

Never before had Andy been kissed in such a way. So deep and probing, so tenderly and yet with such forcefulness it stole her breath away. She fell and then she was on her back on the bed. Miranda was on top of her, resting on her elbows, now placing open-mouth kisses along her jawline and down her neck.

"Miranda. Oh, God." Andy arched, and before she even thought about it, her body responded to the intimate caresses by wrapping her legs around Miranda's body. She couldn't care less that she exposed herself completely this way, all she knew was how much she wanted to keep Miranda where she was.

Miranda began moving her hips, undulating against Andy and causing such sweet friction against her exposed folds. "Andrea!" She jerked and ground down harder with her hips. "Y-you're so wet. So wet." Shivering, she pushed one hand down between them. She slid them in between Andy's legs, rubbing gently back and forth, stopping every now and then to circle her clitoris.

Sobbing now, Andy was ready to explode. When Miranda dipped her head and closed her mouth around Andy's right nipple, sucking it deep in her mouth where she massaged it with her lethal tongue.

Sparks ignited, setting little fires ablaze in the center of Andy's belly. From there they travelled down between her legs, warmed her thighs and made her sex swell further.

"That's it," Miranda murmured around the rock hard nipple. "You're drenching me. You need me." She emphasized the 'me' and let go of the nipple. Staring down into Andy's eyes, Miranda looked possessive and spoke as if her words were non-negotiable. "You need this. From me."

"I do!" Andy sobbed and found Miranda's breasts. Soft and round, they belied Miranda's age and merely were tremendously beautiful and velvety in her hands. Rubbing the rosy pink nipples with her thumbs, Andy couldn't wait to have them in her moth.

"Pinch them." Miranda groaned. "I need…more."

Oh, certainly. Andy gripped the nipples between her thumb and forefinger, tugging gently.


Daring to increase the pressure, avoiding using her nails, Andy did as Miranda wanted, noticing how this increased her own arousal. Miranda halted at Andy's entrance, locking her eyes on hers, as if to make sure.

"Go inside," Andy whispered. "It's what I've wanted for so long."

When Miranda filled her with two, then three, fingers, Andy cried out before biting her lower lip. "Oh, yes, yes, yes…"

"Oh, my. So tight and hot," Miranda said with a moan. "Andrea…" She curled her fingers inside Andy and this was more than she could take. Not even trying to keep the orgasm at bay, Andy called out Miranda's name as she locked her legs around her. Rocking underneath her lover, Andy sobbed and wailed, unable to do anything but cling to the woman she loved. If she didn't, she'd explode into those tiny sparks that originated from her core and permeated her body. Not sure how it happened, Andy rolled them over, clearly taking Miranda by surprise. Pressing Miranda's breasts together, she went back and forth between her nipples, licking, biting gently, and tugging with her lips.

It was Miranda's turn to spread her legs and give Andy room. She was shaking so hard, her teeth actually clattered. "I need you." Miranda sounded like she forced the words out. "Andrea."

Not about to let Miranda suffer, Andy kissed a trail down her stomach until she reached the trimmed tuft of silky, white hair between her legs. Shouldering herself in place between Miranda's thighs, she parted the soaked folds and without hesitating, slid her tongue from her perineum to her clit. Miranda froze, then pulled her legs up by holding onto her knees. Andy now had all the access she needed and began her exploration of the engorged folds against her mouth.

Miranda groaned and whimpered as Andy flattened her tongue against the sensitive tissues. "An—Andrea. Oh, yes. Oh!" Andy circled Miranda's clitoris, never touching it directly, knowing full well how much this could drive a woman crazy. Miranda pushed her fingers into Andy's hair and pulled. It probably hurt, but Andy didn't care. She followed Miranda's not-so-gentle directions and sucked the swollen clit into her mouth, lavishing it with her tongue.

Miranda screamed. Arching off the bed, her voice rose to unheard heights as she wailed and sobbed. Miranda's sex pulsated against her tongue and lips and pressed two fingers into her, not wanting to miss any of the strong orgasm. She hadn't counted on Miranda coming again, but she did. Clasping Andy's fingers hard, she shook so violently, Andy had to hold on hard not to be dislodged. She kept her fingers still inside Miranda, in awe at how the tremors came and went. Eventually, they dissipated, allowing for Andy to pull out and move up to kiss a teary-eyed Miranda.

"Hey. You all right?" Andy pulled Miranda onto her shoulder and tugged at the sheet. "Shh."

"I'm fine." Miranda hugged her close and hid her hot, damp face against Andy's neck. "Just…overwhelmed."

"Me too, a bit."

"It's been a long time for me." Miranda murmured the words against Andy's skin.


"Yes. I haven't had a relationship since the divorce and even before then…" She whispered something inaudible.

"Even before then?" Andy coaxed.

"No orgasms other than self-induced, for quite sometimes."

Andy didn't respond as there was nothing to say. Miranda hated platitudes anyway. Something else, which Andy sincerely hoped wasn't going to be received as a platitude, burned on the tip of Andy's tongue. She shifted next to Miranda and hid her face in the fragrant, white hair, now mussed beyond recognition.

"Andrea? What's wrong?" Miranda lifted her head, but Andy pulled her back down.

"Please, hear me out, okay? I have to tell you the truth."

Going rigid, Miranda nodded briskly. "If you must."

Andy swallowed against the dryness of her throat. "I meant to tell you before we, uhm, made lo—had sex." Clearing her throat, she noticed Miranda holding on harder to her. "If we're going to stand a chance to, you know, make this work, we should be honest. Please don't feel you have to reciprocate if this isn't how you feel, I mean. I—I love you, Miranda. You're the one."

Miranda slowly, slowly relaxed. "And you say I don't have to reciprocate?"

"Of course not. You can't help how you feel." Despite her brave words, Andy died a little with each second. She'd had her hopes up no matter how she tried to tell herself differently.

"I disagree."

"What?" Confused, Andy looked down at Miranda's beautiful face. Her eyes were opaque and didn't give anything away."

"I said, I disagree. I do have to reciprocate for this to work."

What did that mean? That Miranda couldn't and thus it wouldn't? Andy swallowed against salty tears. "So this is it?" she asked, her voice thick.

Miranda frowned. "What? No. I just told you I love you too, silly girl."

Andy slumped back against her pillow, staring at Miranda, her mouth agape.

"Now there's an intelligent look for you," Miranda teased and kissed her. "Of course I love you. I love you more than I'll ever be able to say or show, and no doubt, you'll go crazy since loving me is not easy—I've been told several times that it's actually impossible.

"Not true." Andy spoke through her tears, this time tears of unbridled joy. "Loving you is…is everything."

"Andrea." Miranda wrapped her arms around her and rocked her gently. "I'm not certain how we'll make it work, but I know we will. Do you trust me enough to believe that?"


Blinking, perhaps at the prompt answer, Miranda looked stunned.

"Do you trust me enough to know I'll fight for you no matter what?" Andy continued.

"Yes." Miranda reply was as certain as Andy's, only so much more quiet.

"Good." Andy grinned, suddenly so happy. "Then, can I interest you in some more, uhm, exploration? Perhaps in a nautical setting?" She winked.

"Nautical setting?" Miranda raised her eyebrows, but a tiny smile placed at the corners of her mind.

"A shower. You and me. Exploring. Get it?" Andy pressed her lips against Miranda's and rejoiced in the way her lover immediately responded by parting hers and deepening the caress.

Pulling back a fraction of an inch, Miranda rubbed the tip of her nose against Andy's. "Of course I 'get it'." She rolled off the bed and held out her hand. "Come on, then."

"Oh, goodie." Andy got up and took Miranda's hand. "I can't wait to go exploring again. So much to do, so little time."

Stopping inside the doorway to the bathroom, Miranda turned to Andy and shook her head. "Oh, we have time, Andrea. Lots and lots of time."

Andy's heart did a happy little jig in her chest. If Miranda said they had plenty of time, then that was the truth. They had lots of time.