This is a fic written from Miranda's POV about how she felt when Andy walked away...of course Miranda has feelings for the size six assistant :) (size 4 then of course lol). It's very very different to my usual stuff and the first none M rated thing I've ever written -takes a bow- I'm so proud of myself lol. Its ANGST but maybe some time in the very distant future I may write a sequal to this and get are wonderful twosom together who knows :). Um please review because thats the reason I write!! I hope you like it, it kinda just poured out unintentionally onto a blank page. I was meant to be updating everything else but this is what came out. I promise I will update all my other fics as soon as I can, i'm drowned atm and will be until the end of June. Sadly I won't get any time off until then its revision for my exams at the end of this month n then my finals now...sigh...i hate revision lol! my version of a nightmare...why did it take me three years to realise this :s..dammit!! (uh oh does dam make it PG or PG-13?? :s -scratches head- this is confusing...smut made it so simple!! lol). I hope Miranda is in character OOCness annoys me lots but writing the queen can be very complicated but I try my best. I've tried to delve a little deeper into her feelings here dunno if its worked or if its just a loada words without any meaning or feeling but I will soon find out because I'm sure you'll tell me!! nice!!

right I'm off to catch up on all the Mirandy I missed over the christmas holidays...slowly working my way through :D...its the few hours of relief from the revision I get gonna spend it in the most wonderful way mmmm.

hugs to you all,

Scarlett xx

p.s. I have read through it twice, so I pray there aren't any mistakes but some might have slipped under my sleepy eyes, for this I apologise.


On the Other Side

Images were fogging her mind, memory burning into her body. A darkened figure slowly disappearing into the distance, eyes frantically searching for her by her side knowing she wasn't near.

She'd gone.

The sound of the crowd had rushed into her ears, before dispersing, narrowing down into a pin prick of sound as though consumed by water. Her heart had crawled into her throat, choking her, air struggling to claw its way past the emotional blockage.

Her eyes had burned, blurring her vision unable to discern Andrea from the surrounding crowd, the many people mingling on the sidewalk unaware of the woman whose heart was being torn in two.

She'd turned away, her feet falling heavy on the steps, wanting to run and yet unable to escape from the nightmare consuming her. She'd refused to look back, denying her desire, wanting bring Andrea back, needing the woman by her side unable to admit she'd gone. She remembered entering the hallway, fingers fumbling for her phone, dashing away from the eyes of any onlookers, the sound of her heels mocking her as she'd stumbled forward.

No one to witness the Ice queen shatter.

She'd entered an empty room, unable to picture it in her minds eye, colours blurred within her memory. Her eyes had been so focused on her fingers punching in Andrea's number silently begging her to pick up. Her breath had rattled in her ears, gasping as her chest clamped down twisting tight as an all consuming ache tore into her.

Please pick up, please.

An empty mantra within her mind, a single wish denied as the line went dead. Her phone had fallen from her fingers, clattering at her feet the noise echoing out around her mixing with a stifled cry, a tremor from the depths of her heart. Her legs had given beneath her, weak and crumbling, body colliding with something hard, stinging against her skin as she'd collapsed. She didn't remember sliding down the wall, her mind empty of everything except the sound of stitches crying out in agony, the echo of pain within the fashion world, a noise to make her cringe in any other situation. But not then, she hadn't cared, her energy focusing on a single thought, scrabbling for control, dragging up the walls about to washed away by unshed tears.

Her body had shook as she'd forced herself to her feet, calm steady breaths, the demands of her day pressing in on her, unable to run as everything caved in. No moment of peace as people demanded her time and attention; nothing was her own.

She'd forced her head high, the make up covering any sign of her sadness and the metaphorical scars slowly scoring into her skin.

The pain had clung on, circling low in her abdomen, a constant reminder unable to be banished. She'd never experienced anything like it, her voice long gone, driven to her knees by the absence of her assistant. Andrea. She'd tossed her head high, fingers combing through her hair before forcing the icon forth, stepping out into the crowd, willing herself to drown within the world around her, refusing to let a single thought or feeling enter her mind.

The hours had passed in a whirlwind, unable to remember anything that had passed from her lips. The numbness had settled in, feet following a well know path, slipping into routine, a smile that never met her eyes, the colour as cold as her heart. The car had been a welcome recluse, the world shimmering as the tears welled up once more as she'd wondered where Andrea was, where'd she'd gone. She'd hunted for her anger, any fury at the woman who'd walked away to find she had none. She couldn't hurt her. Andrea had won, and without knowing it. The woman had walked away with a piece of her heart, the only person to ever having owned it and she'd torn it from the cavity of her chest.

She was now sat in her room, her emotions crashing in, a wave of all consuming sadness she'd never experienced. Overwhelming despair, all evidence of the icon washed away, leaving nothing but the lonely woman beneath; the woman who'd lived her life without love; everything just a fake replica of the real thing, filling her with emptiness. She'd given nothing to her marriages only to receive nothing in return. And she hadn't cared, she didn't want anything from the men who saw her as an object through their own eyes, a challenge to be ground down, another step up the ladder of their careers, a trophy on their arm, the untouchable willing to be held in their hands, no matter how much it had sickened her to have their possessiveness displayed for all to see. Andrea was different, Miranda mattered, it was her job and yet everything meant so much more. She'd pushed the young woman so hard, fearful of her feelings, her words like poison pouring over Andrea's innocence and yet her assistant had fought valiantly by her side, tried to comfort her when her world was failing around her, another husband walking away. There was no hidden agenda, helping Miranda because she cared, eyes open and honest, hunting her down to warn her. And yet Miranda had turned her away, unable to thank her for her loyalty, admit her love. She'd run as always, the woman who was the ruler of her industry, someone who people aspired to be, looked up to, who'd been brave enough to have a dream and fight for it, and she was a coward. Fleeing from the greatest test of courage, daring her to dive in head first and give her heart a chance, and she'd ignored it, content to cling onto an illusion, before the opportunity had walked away, leaving her side forever.

She sobbed, silently screaming from the inside, no sound leaking from her lips.

She hated herself for letting Andrea fall through her fingers, the beat of her heart draining away the last little bit of light slowly seeping from her soul. She'd pushed her truth away as always, clinging on the icon, the image, refusing to face up to facts. She'd developed into an unknown reflection, a mysterious mirror image she didn't recognise. And she'd let it happen, willingly slipping into her self made cage, hiding behind the bars refusing to give into her feelings. And now Andrea had left, her footsteps fading with the last lingering hope of happiness. The one person that was beginning to mean more to her than any man and she'd let her go.

She looked around the room blinded by her tears, for once shedding them willingly allowing the pain to engulf her, her many walls crumbling beneath it. The air was prickling against her skin but she didn't move, too lost in despair for once giving in, too tried to fight her feelings any longer. As the tears carved their way over her skin, a little realisation bubbled up. For the first time in memory she wasn't crying for her girls, she didn't cry for her work or the words of another, but for herself and the happiness she could have had and the woman she could have become.

If she'd just given love a chance.


Please review and let me know what you think. Am I any good at this stuff or shall I just stick to my mindless smut :) lol.