Hey peeps, this isn't a house fic for the first time ever…don't worry I shall be updating all soon, work and this fic has been taking up all my time but I finish my temping job tomorrow so I have lots of free time again (unless I get more work).

This is the first Miranda/Andy fic I've ever written…oooo femslash!!, although I have a done two videos on youtube (look for flitterbug18) (house fans I will be doing a Huddy one soon!!).

Never done girl on girl before…be nice. But its kinda the same as het, just with more emotions n they both have boobs!! :D Hope its ok…I'm working on getting them into character Miranda is pretty hard as we hardly saw anything of her behind the scenes in the movie (I haven't read the book) and hence I'm basing it all on what I think she would be like…any pointers and ideas would be good!

I hope you all enjoy, please let me know what you think, reviews improve my writing which is what my ultimate aim is, so any advice is good advice….but no flaming. Cos yeah…I have a crazy mate who will hunt you down if ya do….i tell ya she is scary scary…crazy Scotsman!!

Hugs and Smiles

Scarlett (Flit if your reading this from LJ)

A Slip of the Wrist

Only a year ago Andrea Sachs had been blissfully ignorant of Runway and the world it represented. Many months later, a chance employment at a fashion magazine, ruined relationship, and abandonment of the dragon herself had led to the whirlwind she now found herself being whipped up in.

She hadn't seen Miranda for many months, burying herself under her work, enjoying her job and ignoring the pang in her heart every time she thought of Runway and everything she'd left behind.

She didn't miss the pressure, the impossible demands and difficult working hours. But she missed -as much as she'd loath to admit- the clothes, the glamour and the lifestyle. It had seduced her in a way she hadn't thought possible. She'd entered that world with little knowledge or interest and had left as passionate about it as most of the people within those walls. She couldn't help herself, sitting on the subway in the morning on her way to work, analysing peoples' outfits, judging what they should have put with what and all the fashion faux pas that happened on a daily basis. It kept her connected if only slightly to the world that had turned her life upside down…and indirectly to the woman whose hand had been the driving force.

But then her happy world had unravelled, her boss throwing her into the world she thought she'd never see again. A room full of rich people and empty conversation. Smiles hiding everyone's true intentions. The haze of drive and hate hovering over the room like poison. Almost everyone was out for personal gain, and would willingly shoot down anyone who got in their way. At the head of it all was the devil in disguise Miranda Priestly.

When Andy, had seen her for the first time, head thrown back, fake laughter bubbling up from her throat, she'd frozen. The light shimmering off Miranda's skin, graceful neck adorned in diamonds sparkling in the light, mesmerising. She couldn't help but stare. The woman she'd walked away from was drawing her in, absorbing all her attention. It was at that moment that Andy realised she'd never left any of this behind at all, she'd just forced it far away into her subconscious, and being here having it all thrown in her face. She realised the one thing she truly missed above all was the woman standing only a few inches away…

The woman who was now staring straight at her.

She watched the shock flicker over Miranda's face, the slight dip in the corner of her lips the only indicator of her reaction. If Andy hadn't spent many months of her life studying each and every subtle expression she wouldn't have noticed the change. Ice blue eyes bored into her own; fire replacing the surprise that had frozen within them only moments before. Miranda lifted her chin, gazing down her nose in distain at her ex-assistant, before turning away, attention returning to the conversation, smile breaking out again as she laughed at something the man had said, though it was obvious to Andy from this angle that Miranda hadn't heard a word of it.

Andy sighed, releasing a breath she hadn't been aware she'd been holding, the stress easing from her muscles if only for a moment. She had no desire to see or speak to Miranda Priestly ever again, the previous burns from the devils barbs having only just healed.

She knew Miranda never forgave and certainly never forgot. Andy's abandonment of her in Paris meant Miranda would be ripe for revenge. Andy valued her life, and regardless of the fact she been thrown into the lions den against her will, she would continue to flee for her life until the night was over.

Ripping her eyes away she turned her back to her old boss, darting through the crowd, centring in on a platter of glasses, snapping one up in each hand. The only way she was going to be able to get through this was alertness, speed and alcohol. And while the latter worked against everything else, it was by far the most important.

Four drinks later and several dashes away from the devil, Andy found herself propped up against the bar still attempting to do her job, asking the appropriate questions while keeping an eye out for approaching danger.

Silver hair flickered in the lighting, the sea of people parting as Andy watched her draw closer. Panic bubbled up, she was trapped, unable to escape from the man before her, needing his comment knowing now was the only time she'd be able to get it. She snaked round him, subtly shielding herself, hidden from Miranda's sight, watching, eyes flickering, attempting to maintain her attention on the interview, all the while fighting against the fact she wanted to stare over his shoulder.

Andy watched her crossing the floor, closing in, the charcoal silk flowing out behind her, as she glided forward, weightless, her entourage at her shoulders, whispering everything into Miranda's ears, enabling the woman to ensure everyone thought she was as incredible as ever, while the actual credit and awe should be given to the assistants aiding the editor in chief.

Emily was still there, unaware of Andy's presence, the sickly smile plastered on the red heads face, grinning and nodding at everyone as she wandered by, forever the puppy devoted to its owner no questions asked. Andy didn't know whether to detest or admire this quality within the young woman; she had served Miranda better than Andy ever had.

Frowning, Andy tried to ignore the sting of her own thoughts, for the first time ever registering the regret at abandoning Miranda those many months ago. She'd had to do it, although at the time she hadn't been sure of the reason. There were many which she gave, and most of her friends and family didn't even ask her for one knowing what the witch that worked within the walls of Elias-Clark was like from Andy's detailed description over many phone calls of complaint. But if Andy was honest, it wasn't Miranda that had made her quit….at least it hadn't been because of Miranda's behaviour.

Andy stood here now openly staring, mind jolting to a halt as it realised the reason that had evaded her many months ago. Her heart hammered, blood pumping as she realised the sensation of attraction and lust flooding her veins, forcing its way past the final dam of denial. She couldn't be here, body preparing to flee the scene. It was halted immediately. Andy frowned; convinced her mind had manufactured the glance Miranda had just fired in her direction. Watching, Andy's mouth fell open in shock, eyes descending as she watch a few thousand dollar bracelet fall from Miranda's wrist, tumbling unnoticed to the floor.

She watched as the editor turned to leave, exposing the creamy skin of her back to Andy's hungry eyes, almost distracting Andy from what she'd just witnessed. She had to hurry, wrapping up the conversation with the man in front of her, having no idea what he'd revealed in the last few minutes, (could be the answer to life itself for all she cared) she raced forward, diving to scoop up the priceless piece of jewellery now littering the floor, vulnerable to innocent feet. She snapped up, head whipping round hunting for any sign of the bracelets owner, but she'd been swallowed up by the sea of people, shielding her from Andy's eyes.

She stood, stunned, eyes trailing through the crowd slowly in vain. But to no avail, Andy knew how much time had passed; her eyes had been flicking to her watch every five minutes for the past hour and a half. Miranda had gone; leaving her with nothing but growing confusion, emotions in turmoil and a couple of thousand dollar bracelet dangling from her fingertips.

…………………

She tossed her keys onto the table, snapping the clip from her hair, dark brown locks flowing down over her shoulders. The chain was still clasped in her hand, not willing to let it out of her sight the whole way home.

She was tired, her mind in chaos, flashes of her thoughts and feelings flaring up every few minutes, images of Miranda breaking through her denial. Her skin, her smile, the way in which she walked, floating through the crowds, innocent but deadly.

Andy pulled the zip of her dress, the gown pooling around her feet. Her skin was on fire, her thoughts setting her alight, how Miranda's skin would feel beneath her lips, teeth grazing over the pale flesh, scoring into it. Would she whimper, moan, her desire leaking through her lips, a mumbled surrender. Would she relinquish control if Andy fucked her, lying on her back, legs spread, wet and glistening, writhing against Andy's tongue. Exposed, vulnerable, desperate. Andy could feel the wetness between her thighs, her core burning to be touched. As much as her mind didn't wish to face reality, the truth was screaming at her, clit throbbing, swollen painfully begging for relief as she pictured passionate ice blue eyes.

She collapsed on the bed, knees bent, breast now exposed to the cool air. Taking her index finger into her mouth she suckled on it, before bringing it down sliding the lubricated digit around the nipple before brushing it over the hardened bud. She swallowed, sensitive to touch.

Closing her eyes she let the fingertips of her right hand trail over her stomach, tickling. They hovered at the edge of her panties, unsure, knowing if she fingered herself to these thoughts she released all ability of denial. But she wanted it, needed it.

With a flare of determination she slipped her hand beneath the thin piece of lace, grazing her fingers through her juices, warm and wet, her desire coating her fingers. She started slowly at first, teasing, drawing them up and down before making small circles over her clit. Her mind was imagining how Miranda would kiss, hard and fast, soft and slow, lips tangling together, gasping allowing Andy's tongue entrance, letting her invade her mouth.

Skin warm, flushed, Andy's fingers ripping some thousand dollar item of clothing from her ex bosses body, exposing her breasts, covered in a frail layer of lace. She'd tongue the nipples through it, soaking the material with her saliva before dragging it down, hurried, passionate, taking Miranda's nipple into her mouth.

Andy groaned, slipping a finger into herself, she was soaking, finger plunging in and out smoothly, sliding through liquid heat.

Miranda would moan, clasping Andy to her chest, relishing in the attention of Andy's mouth. Andy's hands would roam, scrabbling at the edges of Miranda's skirt, hiking it up around her hips, forcing her hand between her thighs, cupping Miranda's sex, grinding her palm hard against it, Miranda's hips bucking forward desperate for Andy's touch.

Another finger, she ground her palm into her clit, thrusting frantically, covers rumpled beneath her as her body arched up desperate for release, Miranda was close in her mind, wet with want, Andy would pull the panel of lace aside, plunging her fingers inside, in her mind she knew what she was doing, fucking the woman brutally with her hand, fuelled by anger and desire, wanting to make the woman scream.

Andy's back arched, her muscles clamping down, her mind imagining Miranda's voice the way it would whisper her name, 'Andrea', as she came. With that Andy's orgasm hit, thudding through her body as every muscle contracted in pleasure. She cried out, to the empty air, eyes tight shut, fingers still inside her.

Collapsing, she withdrew her hand, wiping her juices on the duvet, clearing away the evidence of having just fucked herself with her fingers, cheeks blushing, feeling as though someone new her secret. The one woman who'd turned her world into turmoil, who demanded what couldn't be done, the woman she'd fled from, was the only woman Andy had ever wanted to fuck.

She sighed, taking a deep breath into her lungs, dragging the cover over her cooling skin, trying to settle her mind, ignore the lingering pulses thrumming through her body. In the morning it would all go away, the evening had messed with her head, bringing so many mixing emotions clashing to the surface, confusing her, making her feel things that weren't real. This was a one off; it was innocent, nothing too serious, her imagination having a bit of fun. Harmless.

She closed her eyes wishing for sleep to come…it refused.