Why? It was such an adequate question that seemed to also harbor the traits of an untreatable virus. It ate away at Andy's body yet left no signs of its destruction.

Why? After everything it was still a question she could not answer. There was no explanation for why Miranda would once again use people and then decimate their remains.

Irv Ravitz was retiring and now Miranda Priestly reigned supreme. The facts were laid out in newspapers, blogs, newsfeeds, and a new Facebook page had even been created about the news of the millennium.

That was how Andy found out about the whole ordeal after all. Someone had sent her a request to become a part of "Miranda Priestly Controls the Universe" fan page. She had devoured the information given there and had sought out more precious knowledge offered up in whatever media outlet she could find.

It was the only way she would get any information since she knew that asking Miranda 'Why' would be about as helpful as asking a piece of glass the same question. Andy even reasoned that perhaps like the glass was incapable of speaking Miranda was just as incapable of it.

The glass could not tell her the answers she wanted, but it could give her hints about the contents held within. It could cry and call it condensation. It could tell so much yet not speak at all.

Miranda had said nothing, but Andy realized that the lack of Miranda's words was not synonymous with a lack of communication. Miranda had put all the pieces on the chess board. She had controlled them and moved them until it was time for her to move the King and declare herself the most important piece on the board--the Queen.

The documentary, the sway of public opinion, the timing of a downing economy and the effects it had on Runway's money conscious Board--Miranda had predicted, had watched, had waited and shown signs of accomplishing the impossible, and when everyone else was getting lost in their panic Miranda had made her final move.

Andy bet that Aquarius knew about it, and she was almost sure that Miranda hadn't been the one to tell her. Aquarius hadn't let herself become blinded by Miranda's humanity, but time and time again Andy found herself somehow closing her eyes every time Miranda cried and called it condensation.

They were friends. They interacted like friends. They were...something. Yet, something was not enough for Andy to see Miranda and was not enough for Miranda to confess her tightly held secrets.

Andy supposed that congratulations were in order. She had no right to be angry with Miranda. Miranda owed her no explanation even if she had used Andy's talent to oust Irv.

They owed each other nothing. They had made a concentrated effort to owe each other nothing. They made mistakes when things were owed and things were left undone between them.


Andy looked up from her feet to the woman standing in front of her holding the front door open. "Yeah?" She asked her voice hoarse.

Miranda leaned her head to the side. "You're the one that was knocking on my door."

Andy chuckled. "I was, wasn't I?"

"You've heard the news I take it."

Andy cleared her throat and then softly answered, "They're shouting it from the rooftops."

Miranda looked past Andy to the world beyond her front door. "I suppose they are."

"Why?" Andy asked though she had spent the last few hours reasoning out exactly how fruitless the question would be.

Miranda softly sighed. "Because it's what I do, Andrea. Because it's all I know how to do."

Andy had not expected that--honesty. She had expected a dismissal and at best an errant remark about Irv's incompetence.

"You could have told me about it."

"I could have," Miranda conceded. "But then again, I could do so many things. I could become an entirely different person, but I have chosen not to."

"Okay," Andy sighed. "Then at least invite me in for dinner. The New York Times offered me a job today, but I also got a very random phone call from Michael Moore."

Miranda stepped aside, giving Andy the needed room to enter. "Please tell me that you are joking. How did he even get your number?"

Andy shrugged. "I don't know." She entered Miranda's home and acknowledged to herself that entering now sealed an unspoken agreement. Things that had not been said would remain that way. Things between her and Miranda would not be changed.

Yet, Andy realized that Miranda found it within herself to give a reason as to why. Was it a satisfactory reason? No. But was it enough?

That was a question she hadn't bothered to ask herself in a long time. It had been a year since she had re-entered Miranda's life and in that year she had quit her job, ended a longstanding relationship, had one dramatic affair with Miranda Priestly, had another affair with a woman she had known for a long time yet had never really met, and had changed her life completely.

So, was it enough? Was this something between her and Miranda enough?

"What is it you feel like eating?" Miranda asked as she closed the front door. "The girls will be joining us of course since it is our night together. They'll be happy to have your company since they increasingly dislike mine. I cannot wait for them to reach adulthood."

"Shouldn't we ask them what they want, then?" Andy asked.

"Their suggestion was Pizza Hut," Miranda rolled her eyes. "They insist on trying my patience. As a guest they should understand your suggestion will supersede their own."

"I'm your scapegoat then?" Andy playfully asked.

Miranda raised her brow. "Was I not clear?"

Andy chuckled. "Then I guess I want whatever it is you want. Shouldn't we be celebrating anyway?"

"Celebrating?" Miranda sounded as if she were truly thrown by the concept. "What is there to celebrate?"

"Runway," Andy uncertainly answered.

"I do not celebrate my victories, Andrea." Miranda's eyes held Andy's. "They come at far too high a cost."

This was a lesson Andy realized she was still in the process of learning. The costs for her own victories were becoming higher and higher, but so were the costs of her failures. Her success had come to mean she didn't have the luxury for failure, and Andy knew that Miranda had never tried to shield her from this reality. Miranda had been grooming her for it since the moment Andy had been hired on at Runway and had continued to do so since she had returned.

"Who is taking your place?" Andy asked, knowing the answer but having to ask anyway.

"Jacqueline Follet is the natural choice of course."

Natural, Andy thought. Of course. "And Aquarius?"

"Has finished her studies and will return as my VP."

Andy rubbed at her eyes. "And does Aquarius know this yet?"

"No," Miranda succinctly replied. "But she will accept nevertheless."

"And me?" Andy kept her eyes closed.

"You?" Miranda softly laughed. "I suspect you'll be working at The New York Times."

So she was a chess piece that was used but not possessed. There was liberty in that that was accompanied by pangs of disappointment. Andy's hands fell away from her eyes. "I haven't accepted any position."

"But you will," Miranda's voice held the certainty that Andy wished she herself possessed. "And you'll do it because you don't want my life, and because I don't want you to have it."

"Well what about Aquarius?"

Miranda sighed. "Why are you two so obsessed with asking me about the other?" She gave Andy no time to respond before she added, "Aquarius is not you, Andrea. Though you and I have our similarities your possibilities surpass my own in ways that neither I nor Aquarius can grasp."

Miranda straightened. "That is all I wish to say about this, Andrea. It is all I will say."

Was it enough?

"Let's order the food." Andy rubbed her stomach to emphasize a false point. She wasn't hungry.


Andy knew that Miranda saw through her ruse, but since Miranda was done speaking she wouldn't address one tiny lie.

Like glass, Andy thought again. She could see through Miranda but never touch the contents that were housed within.

Why, she wondered, wasn't it enough?