Title: Ready or Not
Author: Janine
Fandom: The Devil Wears Prada
Pairing: Miranda/Andy
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I don't own them.


Andy jerked to a stop as her gaze landed on Miranda, her eyes growing unnaturally wide for a moment as they took in the seemingly impossible sight before her, staring for a moment before she managed to get her features under control.

She knew she had gaped though and that she was lucky that Miranda hadn't been looking at her when she entered the room. In fact it hadn't seemed like Miranda had been looking at anything when she entered the room.

"Oh, there you are," Miranda said blandly looking up and over at Andy as the younger woman stood frozen in the same spot and same position she was in when her eyes found Miranda. "We … need to go over the … uh, seating chart. For the luncheon," Miranda continued a second later, fiddling with her glasses as her eyes drifted away from Andy, her voice halting as if she was having trouble remembering what it was she wanted to say.

Andy couldn't have been more shocked if she had walked in on a golden retriever in an apron making pancakes.

Miranda Priestly did not stumble.

She was pretty sure it was immutable truth, like 'that which goes up must come down' and "What's done is done".

Then again, she had been almost managed to convince herself that Miranda Priestly was born fully made up with her hair styled, yet the sight before her proved that to be a fallacy and Andy was forced to consider the fact that Miranda was a real human being after all.

Andy breathed in deeply, her heart clenching in sympathy. If Miranda was in such a state whatever happened must have been very serious.

"Okay. Yeah, sure," Andy replied hastily, shaking her head a little and spurring herself into movement, walking over to the chair in front of Miranda trying to ignore the more natural instinct to go over to Miranda and hug her. "I have it right here," she went on speaking just to have something to do as she dumped her bag on the chair in front of her and began to search through it.

And search through it.

And search through it.

Andy's hands began to shake lightly. Where was it? She continued to search not daring to look over at Miranda. She knew that she had been rummaging around for a while and could imagine, probably fairly accurately, what the older woman's face looked like.

"By all means, move at a glacial pace. You know how that thrills me," Miranda said, her voice cutting into the awkward silence of the room. Her tone was stronger now, sharp and critical.

She sounded like Andy was used to.

Some of the tension drained out of Andy's body, Miranda's return to form restoring her equilibrium and a second later her fingers brushed against the folder she was looking for and she yanked it out of her bag and handed it to Miranda.

"Okay," Miranda said seemingly in complete control once more, her glasses firmly in place as her sharp and focused grey eyes stared down intently at the chart she had just removed from the folder.

Andy quickly got out her notebook and took a seat, calm and collected. She understood how to do this.

"First of all, we need to move Snoop Dog to my table," Miranda began her attention focused on the chart.

Andy hated to do it, Emily's voice ringing in her mind telling her that no one ever questions Miranda Priestly, but she had to say something, even if it incurred Miranda's wrath because Andy knew that if anything went wrong at the luncheon that the fit Mirada would have about that would eclipse anything that would happen to her for speaking out of turn.

"But your table's full," Andy interjected careful to keep any trace of anything out of her voice.

Miranda looked up the sound of Andy's voice and for a moment that lost confused looked that Andy had seen on her face when she first walked into the room was back.

"Stephen isn't coming," Miranda responded, her tone indecipherable.

"Oh," Andy said not sure what to say in response to that. "Stephen isn't," she continued distractedly, reaching down into her bag for her other planner. It was possible of course that some sort of freak whether condition had occurred in New York and Stephen's plane had been cancelled, or that he been hit in the head with a ball playing racquetball and had a concussion and couldn't fly. It was possible … yet Andy knew that it wasn't anything so benign. "So I don't need to … fetch Stephen from the airport tomorrow?" she continued to babble finally pulling out her other planner.

"Well, if you speak to him and he decides to rethink the divorce," Miranda began removing her glasses, her tone aloof as always though her shambled appearance gave away everything one needed to know about her emotional state, "then by all means, fetch away," Miranda continued her eyes dropping to her lap and her voice falling as well. "You're very fetching so … go fetch," she finished.

She sounded impossibly tired and weary.

"And then when we get back to New York, we need to contact …um," Miranda continued as Andy sat still staring at her.

There it was again, 'um' and the lost, watery look in her eyes. "Leslie, to see what she can do to minimize the press … on all this," Miranda went on her eyes closing tightly for a moment before she managed to force them open once more.

There was silence for a moment as Andy continued to scribble. And then Miranda began to talk again.

"Another divorce … splashed across Page Six," Miranda said softly shaking her head, the words flowing out of her mouth helplessly. "Just imagine what they're going to write about me," she continued moving her head from side to side, her eyes closing again as if contemplating the possible articles was causing her physical pain.

"The Dragon Lady, career obsessed," Miranda drawled, an ironic twist coming to her lips before it disappeared just as quickly. "Snow Queen drives away another Mr. Priestly." The weariness was back in her voice. "Rupert Murdoch should cut me a check for all the papers I sell for him."

The cutting barb didn't hold any of sting Miranda's insults usually did, the lack of venom and conviction in the words actually making Andy's more worried for the other woman that her robed appearance did.

"Anyway, I don't … I don't really care what anyone writes about me," Miranda went on, her voice dropping to a whisper as she made eye contact with Andy, looking at her fully with her broken eyes for the first time that evening. "But my girls …" she continued her voice cracking for the first time as her blinked back tears. "I just … it's so unfair to the girls," she went on already seeming to pull herself together though the tears were still in her voice.

"It's just another disappointment. Another let down." A touch of frost returned to her voice with that statement. "Another father … figure," she went on laughing darkly.

Andy grimaced slightly at the pain that was clearly behind it.

"Gone. Anyway, the point is," Miranda said clearing her throat, "the point is," she repeated before sighing deeply. "The point is we really need to figure out what to do with Donatella because she's barely speaking to anyone."

Andy stared at the woman in front of her for a second – and in that time and place Miranda was a woman, not her boss, not the indomitable Ms. Priestly, but just Miranda. Miranda who had had her life so profoundly shaken that she had allowed herself to be seen in a bathrobe and had almost cried in front of her assistant.

"I," Andy began her voice shaking slightly as she hastily dumped the planners on her lap on top of her bag before standing and crossing the distance between them quickly, crouching in front of Miranda and moment later and after a seconds hesitation reaching out for her hand. "I'm so sorry Miranda," Andy continued holding Miranda's hand in hers tightly, both of her hands warmly clasped around the soft, delicate appendage.

Miranda's eyes flickered down, the normally bright orbs red and glassy as her eyes stared at their joined hands before she looked back at Andy's face.

"You are, aren't you?" Miranda murmured staring at Andy for a moment longer. And then her eyes drifted away again before Andy could even try to figure out the meaning behind the look.

"If you want me to cancel your evening, I can," Andy said her thumb unconsciously stroking the back of Miranda's hand trying to offer what little comfort she could.

"Don't be ridiculous, why would we do that?" Miranda asked forcing one of her 'you silly, stupid, incomprehensible thing' smiles on her face, though it was clear to Andy that Miranda was very aware of why she would ask the question. She was a wreck and they both knew it, but Andy knew that as vulnerable as Miranda was that to say so would be taking things too far.

"Um," Andy said, her voice cracked and was barely audible as she dropped her eyes from Miranda's face and began to pull her hands back. "Is there anything else I can do?" she asked now awkwardly crouched in front of the older woman, her position strange and uncomfortable without Miranda's hand in hers.

Miranda nodded silently, the movement going on for a moment too long as if she was trying to determine what her response should be.

"Your job," she replied finally holding out the folder Andy had given her back to the brunette.

Andy smiled the expression sad yet knowing as if she didn't really expect Miranda to let her help her. And then she was standing her hand outstretched to take the folder back before she moved back over to the chair where she had been sitting before and picked up her bag, packing everything back inside of it.

When all of that was done, she turned back to face Miranda once more, but the woman looked away from her.

"That's," Miranda began dismissively her eyes still averted before she paused, her eyes drifting over to Andy almost reluctantly to consider her once more. "A reasonably well put together ensemble," Miranda continued blinking as if her words surprised even her. They certainly surprised Andy. "It gives me hope that you'll be able to put together something as relatively unobjectionable in an hour. We leave at nine."

Andy blinked but otherwise remained routed where she was.

Miranda wanted her to go with her?

The party that Miranda was scheduled to attend was one of the biggest events of the season. Anyone who was anyone was going to be in attendance and Andy was fairly certain that there was some sort of stipulation in the small print that mandated that if you were even to be considered for the guest list that you had to own at least two houses on two different continents or at least own a yacht bigger than her apartment.

Miranda couldn't possibly mean for her to attend the event with her. It was ridiculous. It was inconceivable. It was … flattering.

She was supposed to be meeting Christian.

"Is there a problem, Andrea?" Miranda asked her voice sharp and clipped as her eyes found Andy's again. Her decision to add Andy to her accessories for the evening seemed to have calmed her somewhat, and for a fleeting second Andy entertained the possibly that Miranda was comforted by her presence.

"You're still standing in my room doing a remarkable impression of a particularly dim-witted guppy," Miranda continued with Andy made no response, "which leads me to believe that somehow my incredibly simple instructions have managed to confound you in some profound a way."

"No," Andy responded blinking rapidly, Miranda's icy response snapping her out of whatever haze she had fallen into. "No, I no … there's no problem. Not confused," she continued standing quickly. "I'll be here with …" she went on, her response trailing off as Miranda put her glasses back on and turned away from her without another word.

Well, Andy thought, as she made her way out of the room. At least she'd still be treated to good meal.


Six Hours Later …

Andy hesitated outside of the elevator as Miranda stepped in.

"Don't be ridiculous, Andrea," Miranda commented looking over her shoulder before leaning decadently against the mirrored back of the elevator cabin and lifting an eyebrow at Andy.

"Sorry," Andy responded smiling self-consciously before she stepped into the elevator as well. She found herself somewhat off balance, the nights developments making her feel tingly and uncertain. After all that had happened she found she wasn't really sure how she should act around Miranda.

Miranda had said very little when she arrived at her room forty-five minutes later in a new outfit that she hoped was acceptable. Miranda, looking impeccable as usual, had simply given her a once over and nodded before they exited the room to meet the car.

The car ride had started off as usual, which was to say in silence, though Andy had gotten used to that and no longer found being seated around Miranda for a half hour or so in complete silence uncomfortable anymore. In fact the return to routine comforted her a little bit after their oddly emotional interaction earlier and she settled herself down in the seat and tilted her head to look outside of the window and enjoy the lights and the sights visible through the tinted glass.

However, a few minutes after she had begun to gaze out of the window something surprising happened. As they drove by an ancient devastated building, Miranda - as if she did so all the time - commented that the building Andy was looking at used to be a Roman Bath. Andy had looked over at her surprised by the comment and by Miranda's apparent historical knowledge, but by the time she did Miranda had already turned away from her and didn't say anything else as Andy looked at her, so eventually Andy turned her attention back to the window.

And so they had continued in silence until Andy found herself staring in fascination at a cross illuminated by bright green lights. She had seen them all over the city and wondered what they indicated. She was silently contemplating it again when Miranda spoke once more and told her that they were pharmacies, and that France had more drug stores in it than any other nation. Andy looked over at her again at that and said, "Really?"

That time Miranda nodded in response and after that Andy spent the rest of the ride dividing her attention between Miranda and the window as the other woman made comments about where they were and what Andy was looking at.

"I didn't want to step over any boundaries or anything," Andy babbled drawing her mind back to the present as she moved across the cabin to stand beside Miranda.

"Boundaries," Miranda breathed out hrmphing lightly before shaking her head.

Andy smiled a little at the irritated expression, her head turning in Miranda's direction. Miranda's mood had improved considerably throughout the evening and she seemed quite back to her old self. Andy realized of course, that Miranda's problems hadn't vanished, but she had seemed to enjoy the party and she wasn't dwelling on a situation she couldn't change, and Andy was pleased to think that she had played a part in making Miranda feel a bit better.

Feeling Andy's gaze on her, Miranda turned her head to the side as well and met Andy's eyes before arching her eyebrow questioningly.

There was a time when Andy would have shivered with fear at Miranda directing such an arch look at her, but she found that she wasn't intimidated by it that time. She couldn't say how she knew really, but she was sure that Miranda wasn't upset or irritated by her. The look felt to Andy, almost teasing and she simply smiled wider in response.

"Well, I don't see why you're so amused. It seems as if you don't care for boundaries either," Miranda responded tilting her chin up and turning her head away from Andy, although before she did the brunette caught her lips twitching slightly.

"Actually," Andy drawled focusing her eyes forward once more, Miranda's response making her bold, "I quite enjoying pushing them."

"Yes, I've been made aware," Miranda replied glancing over at Andy as the elevator came to a stop on their floor. "Should I expect you to try and lead me by hand to my room?" she asked looking at Andy keenly.

Andy blushed; it seemed that the hand holding incident was not forgotten.

"Well," Andy said fighting down her embarrassment. "I am your assistant, so I'll assist," she continued quickly reaching out for and grasping Miranda's hand. Despite her teasing Miranda was surprised by the action, her disbelief showing in the tensing of her back, but she made no move to remove her hand from Andy's and didn't even jerk it back in alarm.

Andy realized that she'd probably consumed too much wine at the party, but she continued holding Miranda's hand as they stepped off of the elevator, assisting the silver-haired beauty off the elevator quite chivalrously.

Miranda dropped her gaze from Andy's face, which was focused forward intently almost as if she was marching into battle, and looked down at their joined hands. It was the second time in one night that she had found her hand nestled in Andrea's. She had been too … distracted to take much note of it earlier, but even though she had consumed quite a bit of wine – or perhaps because of it – she found herself noticing the feeling of Andrea's fingers entwined with her own.

It had been a long time since she had held anyone besides the twins' hands, and even that was extremely rare. She and Stephen had not been the type to walk around with their hands attached together as if they couldn't function independent of each other, and when she had had casual friends, when she was Miranda instead of "Miranda Priestly", she had never been one to stroll around with them randomly holding hands.

So she found herself holding the hand of an adult for the first time in years, and the hand of a female adult for possibly the first time.

It felt nice.

Andrea's hands were slender and delicate, long fingers wrapped around hers in a way that was more comfortable then holding a man's hand had been since they fit together more seamlessly. Mostly however, she found herself focusing on the warmth of Andrea's hand. Andrea was a warm person and the observation made Miranda think of symbolism and how Andrea charging ahead protecting her from any problems while surrounding her with warmth as she tried to comfort her could be a symbol of their relationship.

Before she could entertain anymore painfully maudlin thoughts however, Andrea had stopped and was removing her hand from Miranda's so that she could rummage around in her purse for the key to Miranda's large, empty room.

"Thank you," Andy said as she opened the door, "for inviting me tonight. I had a good time," she continued genuinely meaning it.

The party had been full of self-important windbags who had been given the opportunity to make nauseatingly self-important speeches and normally that would have made Andy wish she had just spent the night poking herself in the eye with a q-tip. However, Miranda had seemed just as unimpressed with the majority of the speakers and after two glasses of champagne had spent most of the night whispering vicious comments and cutting barbs to Andy who had held her glass to her lips almost all night to hide her smile.

Halfway through the night Andy had decided that it probably would have been a lot of fun to be friends with Miranda in High School, and won over by Miranda's ease, she found herself adding a few comments here and there, at one point causing Miranda to turn to her and clink their glasses together when Andy made a particularly brutal and accurate remark.

Miranda stared at Andy for a long moment after she spoke, and then said, "Come in for a drink," and brushed by her into the room before Andy could say anything in response.

Andy was quite certain that she'd had enough to drink, and if Miranda's strange compliance with her holding her hand on the way to her room had been any indication the other woman had had quite enough to drink as well, and they both had to be up early the next morning, but instead of pointing any of that Andy followed Miranda into her room and shrugged her shoulders.

After all, Miranda was the boss.


Miranda placed her glass of wine of the small table beside the couch and leaned back, resting her head against the back of the couch before turning it towards the window, her eyes focused on Andrea who was gazing outside, her nose practically pushed against the pane of glass.

Too full of alcohol to care, Miranda let a smile spread across her face at the sight and shook her head. Andrea was ridiculous … and precious. Lord help her, she had actually become fond of the girl.

"Andrea, come over here," Miranda said a moment later. "Your staring has moved so far beyond tedious that the English language does not have a word to accurately describe it. Paris will still be there in the morning."

Andy turned her head at Miranda's words, a blush coming to her face. She had not become an old hat at traveling around the globe yet and everything fascinated her.

"Sorry," Andy murmured gazing over at Miranda as the woman lounged lazily on the couch.

Miranda was silent for a moment and then sighed softly before waving her hand. "Don't be sorry," she said a tiny smile touching her lips before she patted the cushion next to her on the couch. "Just sit."

Andy moved, the wine, champagne and events of the evening, removing any worry or apprehension she might have had about sitting so close to Miranda. Actually she was beginning to feel a little unsteady on her feet and thought that sitting down would probably be a good idea.

As she settled down beside Miranda, the gentle scent of her perfume began to tease Andy's senses and the warmth of Miranda's body began to seep into her filling Andy with an intense desire to lean over and snuggle into the body beside her, surrounding herself with the sweet smell and warmth before she drifted off to sleep.

Tensing slightly, Andy thought that maybe sitting wasn't such a good idea after all, and was tempted to stand again and leave the room post haste. However, before she could do more than sigh as she relieved her weary feet of the burden of her weight, Miranda turned her hawk-like eyes on her and Andy was caught.

"Have you been outside of the States before?" Miranda asked recognizing Andy's behavior as that of the new traveler.

"I've been to Canada, and we went to Mexico and the Caribbean a few times," Andy responded thoughtfully, surprised and pleased by the question. She couldn't be sure, but she thought that it might have been the first time Miranda had ever asked her anything about her personal life. "I've never been 'across the pond'. I've always wanted come though, I almost made it my last year of undergrad but the plans fell through," she continued certain that she was giving Miranda more information than the other woman was interested in receiving, but relaxed and pleased enough to attempt to turn it into an actual conversation.

"There's," Miranda began, pausing to stretch her back out, her chest arching forward slightly as she did drawing Andy's eyes to it. "There's a four hour break between my last appointment and our flight," she continued a few seconds later. "You should take the car and see Montmartre or whatever it is you hippies are interested in."

Andy frowned at the hippy remark when the rest of Miranda's statement registered with her. "Really?" she asked unable to hide her delight at the possibility.

"You keep asked me that, Andrea, as if I go around day and night saying things that I don't mean," Miranda responded staring at the brunette. "Yes, Andrea. Really," she went on holding Andrea's gaze before shaking her head and then looking away.

"Thank you," Andy said gratefully, tempted to try and take Miranda's hand again. "And I'm not a hippie," she added a few seconds later. "A hippie would never be caught dead in a V-Neck pullover," Andy continued smiling. "They're far too commercial."

Miranda stared at her for a moment after that, and then just when Andy began to feel like she was seconds away from curling up into a fetal position and dying of embarrassment, Miranda smiled.

"Well, in any case," Miranda said a moment later, a small smile still playing on her lips. "I still recommend Montmartre. There's a beautiful old church, Saint Pierre de Montmartre, not to mention the hill has one of the best views in the city."

"I'll definitely do that," Andy responded softly, gazing at Miranda, suddenly wishing that the other woman had said 'we' instead of 'you' when she suggested taking the car. "What else do you suggest?"

Miranda leaned forward and picked up her glass of wine, before tilting her head back contemplatively.

"Le Musée d'Orsay, I should think," Miranda began glancing at Andy before taking a sip from her glass. "You would also be doing yourself a disfavor if you didn't visit …"

Andy rested her head against the back of the couch and listened to Miranda talk. She didn't have her notebook with her, but she knew that she would not forget a thing the other woman suggested.


"You have a nice speaking voice," Andy said the words falling from her lips before she could think better of it, her comment drawing Miranda's eyes over to her. "I mean, it's really …" Andy continued trying to explain but having trouble focusing her thoughts. Her head was really spinning now, not moving and sitting down on the couch seemed to have given the alcohol in her system a chance to take over. "It's really … nice," she finally said, frowning at her lack of ability to think of another adjective. "Wait, no, no, it's really rich," she said her frown turning upside down as the word came to her.

"Most people shiver in terror when I speak," Miranda commented watching Andrea closely. People complimented her all of the time without ever actually meaning it, but she actually believed that Andrea meant it, just like she had believed her earlier when she told her she was sorry about the dissolution of her (not much of a) marriage.

"Well, it's not your voice really that does that," Andy responded thoughtfully, "it's more the thought of what might come out of your mouth that terrifies people," she went on before her eyes widened and a shocked and horrified look came over her face as she realized what she had just said and to whom.

"Are you afraid of what might come out of my mouth now?" Miranda asked watching Andrea as Andrea stared at her, the brunette's eyes rhythmically dropping to her lips before looking back up at her eyes. "Is that why you're staring? Are you frozen with terror?"

Andy shook her head and then muttered, "No," her eyes focusing on Miranda's again. "Your mouth is just really … pretty, you know. It's nice to look at," Andy continued a second later blinking rapidly as if trying to pull together some thought before she relaxed and let it go.

Miranda silently stared at Andrea after the brunette had finished speaking. Her gaze was open, her large brown eyes staring over at her as if she was the most fascinating thing Andrea had ever seen, her blood red lips ever so slightly turned upwards as if she was just in so pleasant a mood that her face couldn't help but reflect it.

It had been a very long time since Miranda had seen anyone look at her with such a satisfied and content look of their face.

Andy exhaled, blinking slowly as she felt Miranda's hand cup her cheek, her head automatically turning into the warmth of Miranda's hand, nuzzling it before her eyes sought out Miranda's again. Her powerful urge to snuggle was back and she felt herself begin to sway towards Miranda's body.

Miranda tensed, her hand stilling against Andrea's face as the young brunette began to lean into her. And then she sighed, and leaned forward herself, pressing her lips to Andrea's as the young woman wrapped her arms around Miranda's waist.

Andy sighed against Miranda's lips. She had just wanted to get a little closer to Miranda, but the lips and the kissing, and Miranda's body pressed firmly against hers was so much better than what she had in mind, and as Miranda's hand held her head in place Andy moaned with pleasure.

Miranda shivered as Andrea moaned against her lips, the sound sending an electric shock through her body, lighting her up like a live wire.

Deepening the kiss, her tongue forcing its way into Andrea's mouth, a small sound of pleasure came from her own lips as Andrea's tongue immediately began to dance with her own. Excited, and becoming more so every second, Miranda pushed on Andrea's shoulders insistently urging Andrea to lie back on the couch.

Andy watched, slightly dazed, as Miranda tore the two-inch thick cushions against the seatback away and tossed them onto the floor.

She now had enough room to straddle Andy, which is exactly what she did.

Andy's hips lifted up into the weight of Miranda's body, and a soft mewling sound that perhaps started out as Miranda's name but devolved into an incoherent sound need escaped from her lips instead.

Miranda pressed her hips down into Andrea's pelvis, her eyes fluttering closed as the brunette gave a responding push of her own hips.

Andrea was always so warm.

Miranda leaned down, her lips pressing against Andy's hungrily as her hands began to trail up the brunette's sides to cup her breasts.


Andy sighed softly her eyes closed, stretching her still sleep addled body luxuriously. There was nothing quite like the pleasant ache in your body after a night of terrific sex and smiling at the tightness in her body Andy knew it had been terrific. Purring contently Andy rolled over, throwing her hands over Nate's waist, her breasts pressing against his back as she trailed her hand up his stomach to cup his breast.

Cup his breast?

Andy blinked. That wasn't right. Nate didn't have the breasts, she did.

Andy moved her hand again, the appendage stilling again a second later as she confirmed that she was most definitely holding a breast in her hand.

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, Andy thought as she became aware of a slight pounding in her skull that she recognized as her long lost friend the hangover. The headache wasn't too bad, but she had clearly had a bit to drink the night before. What had seen been doing? Think, think, think, Andy mentally yelled at herself.

That's right, she had dinner with Christian.

But Christian didn't have breasts either.

And no, that was all wrong. She was supposed to have dinner with Christian, but she didn't because Miranda was upset and …


Miranda …


Andy's eyes flew open and she found her field of vision immediately filled with smooth creamy porcelain skin, and silver hair.

"Ohhh, fuuuuck," Andy mouthed freaking out as silently as she could while also remaining relatively immobile. She had sex with Miranda. She was still in bed with Miranda holding her breast in her hand. Sex … with Miranda. Really good, passionate, vigorous sex with Miranda … with multiple orgasms.

Andy bit her lip as images from the night before began to flood her brain.

She remembered her dress up around her hips as Miranda's fingers plunged inside of her again and again, her silver hair falling over her face as she stared down at Andy intently before lowering her head so that her teeth and lips could nip and suck at Andy's neck as Andy helplessly bucked and twisted and moaned beneath her.

She remembered Miranda sitting on the couch fully clothed, except for her underwear which dangled around her left ankle. She remembered her head under her dress licking frantically at Miranda's slit, one of her hands running feverishly up and down Miranda's thigh as her other hand worked Miranda's clit while her tongue moved over her again and again as she moaned into Miranda's sex because she smelled and tasted so good and she couldn't get enough.

She remembered being naked, finally, on the bed legs spread, Miranda moving towards her, positioning Andy's legs over her own and around her waist before pressing forward, her pussy rubbing wetly against Andy's. She remembered Miranda's head tilting back in pleasure as they ground into each other, and herself falling back against the mattress her hips lifting and thrusting against Miranda, Miranda's fists clenched in the bed-sheet as they came against each other.

And, oh god, she had spent minutes upon minutes sucking on Miranda's nipples. They were both exhausted but she was still so hot, and she had turned into Miranda's body and taken her nipple in her mouth, sucking on it like she was starving, her legs wrapped around Miranda's thigh as she rubbed herself against her, still sucking desperately on her nipple as she came all over Miranda's leg.

Andy dropped her head forward, embarrassment, shame and arousal coursing through her body, her forehead landing on Miranda's back.

Andy tensed realizing her mistake almost immediately, but it was too late and she felt Miranda shift against her.

Everything was silent for a moment and then …

"Andrea?" Miranda asked softly, her voice still tinged with sleep.

"Hmm," Andy responded, still nestled against Miranda's back, the other woman's breast still in her hand.

"What time is it?" Miranda asked as if there was nothing usual about waking up naked with her twenty-something assistants hand on her breast and her face pressed against her back.

"Uh," Andy said finally removing her hand from Miranda's chest so that she could twist around and look at the clock. "It's …" Andy squinted, "it's eight."

"I'm meeting with Irv in an hour," Miranda said sighing softly before sitting up and dropping her legs over the edge of the bed, her back to Andy. "I'll be heading over to the luncheon straight from there. You may take the car over, but make sure that it's back at the hotel by ten."

And with that Miranda stood, the sheets falling from her body leaving gloriously naked in front of Andy. Miranda then took two steps towards the bathroom and stopped, looking over her shoulder at the still dazed woman on the bed.

"And Andrea," Miranda began.

"Yes Miranda?" Andy asked operating on autopilot.

"I'd go with a scarf today," Miranda advised seriously, "If you neglected to bring some I have a rather extensive assortment in my Goyard case."

And with that she was gone.

"Oh. My. God," Andy moaned throwing her hand over her head once the bathroom door was shut, lying there for a few moments completely overwhelmed before she managed to force her legs over the edge of the bed and get to her feet.

She had to get dressed. She had to get out of the room before Miranda was finished in the bathroom. It was too much, she couldn't take notes and discuss the luncheon in a room that still smelt like sex and while memories of Miranda's tongue in her ass floated through her mind.

Andy looked around the bedroom. Clothes, she needed to find her clothes. Andy began to move through the room, pausing only when she passed the mirror. Turning back to it she stared at her reflection for a long moment.

Well, at least now she knew why Miranda had suggested the scarf.

Between Andy's neck and collarbone was one of the biggest hickey's Andy had ever had in her life.

She found herself smiling, and then shook her head.

Clothes, she had to find her clothes and get out of there. She could gloat or fret over the fact that she had aroused Miranda enough for the woman to mark her like a fifteen year old boy later.


Miranda tilted her head back letting the warm water trickle over her face, her body finally relaxing under the spray.

She knew that she had not dealt with the situation in the bedroom properly, but after the previous evening and night she simply did not have the energy to deal with the ramifications of what had transpired between herself and Andrea.

Reaching for her scented liquid gel, Miranda began to lather herself up. 'I certainly need the soap', she thought to herself, a smile coming to her face as her hands ran over her thighs, her thumb running over a red smudge Andrea had left behind before her finger ran over a sticky patch of skin on her thigh, rubbing it clean before her hands moved back up her torso to clean her breasts.

She hissed slightly as her fingers ran over her nipples. They were still sore from Andrea's enthusiastic attention.

Miranda sighed at the thought.

They had a good time the previous night, even before they had become intimate with each other. She was glad she had invited Andrea to come along with her. She enjoyed the young woman's company, much more than she had enjoyed anyone's company in a very long time; and … when they were intimate with each other … Miranda shivered and breathed in deeply at the thought. She was not a prude in the bedroom, but she could not remember the last time she had been as uninhibited as she was with Andrea. For god's sake she had even put her tongue … Miranda found herself blushing at the memory.

Miranda sighed again brushing back wet strands of silver hair off of her forehead.

As pleasant as the subject was she needed to get her mind off of Andrea and back on business.

Her personal life was already in shambles, and becoming more complicated by the minute, and if she didn't pull herself together and focus her professional life it would end up in a similarly shabby state.


After the Luncheon …

"So you're not speaking to me, is that it?" Miranda asked wearily.

Feelings were such a nuisance. She wasn't even divorced yet and already she had another lover judging her and finding her lacking.

"I just," Andy said shaking her head sadly, "I don't know what to say," she went on glancing briefly over at Miranda before turning away again. "Nigel was so happy when he came to see me yesterday and you … you crushed that, you crushed him in a room full of people," Andy finished shaking her head.

She supposed she shouldn't have been surprised. Most people wouldn't have been. But after what she had seen of Miranda the night before, after what they had shared, she had wanted to think more of the other woman.

"Would you prefer that it had been me?" Miranda asked pinching the bridge of her nose.

Andy looked over at her questioningly. "I don't understand."

"I'm not so heartless, Andrea," Miranda said softly looking over at the young woman beside her. "That I would 'crush' Nigel as you so quaintly put it, on a whim or for entertainment. They were going to take Runway from me."

"What?" Andy asked shocked, immediately turning in her seat to face Miranda, her hand moving to rest on Miranda's thigh. "Miranda, what do you mean?"

"Irv, as you know, has never been comfortable with the amount of power I exert over Runway. I make him millions of dollars a year, yet he has always resented that the credit for Runway's success falls solely upon me - as it should - instead of upon him," Miranda began wearily, acutely aware of the heat of Andrea's palm on her thigh. "He was planning to install Jacqueline Follet in my position, and your … friend, Christian Thompson was to work for her."

"My god," Andy breathed out, "I …" and suddenly Andy understood why Miranda had done what she had done at the luncheon. She didn't like it, and she hurt for Nigel, but she understood. Nigel had recovered from the news with admirable strength and he still had a respected position at Runway but if Miranda had lost the magazine … Andy shuddered at the thought. Runway was Miranda, and Miranda was Runway. She didn't even want to contemplate what a state Miranda would have been in if that had happened. "I understand," Andy said softly, her hand squeezing Miranda's thigh.

"I was happy for him," Miranda replied her eyes focused on Andy's. "I never would have stood in his way … I simply … I had no choice," she continued something fragile and yearning in her tone as her eyes held Andy's almost beseechingly.

"I know," Andy said softly, instinctually realizing that Miranda needed someone to believe her, to believe in her. That she needed someone to look at her and not see a monster. "So does Nigel," Andy added assuredly a second later taking Miranda's hand gently into hers.

Miranda breathed in deeply and then nodded, turning her head to look out the window. It would soon be time to paste on another series of smiles and charm a room full of sycophants that she couldn't stand. It was almost time to be "Miranda Priestly" again when all she wanted to do was sleep. Or, to her surprise, she realized that she would have been perfectly happy to continue riding in the car with Andrea to Montmartre or wherever else the girl wanted to go as long as there were no cameras and CEOs.

Andy stared at Miranda for a few moments, taking in her wilted shoulders and melancholy eyes and then leaned over pressing her lips against Miranda's cheek, keeping the silver haired woman's hand securely in hers.

Miranda sighed and turned to face Andrea, feeling stronger than she had a moment before, wanting the girl to kiss her again.

"Andrea," Miranda said softly, her hand moving to cover the brunette's.

However before she could say anything else the car pulled to a stop and the driver got out.

Miranda sighed and turned her head to look out the window, lifting her sunglasses to her face a second later, a look of determination coming to her features.

"Stay close," Miranda said turning to look at Andy once more through the dark lenses of her sunglasses. And then she was out of the car smiling and posing as Andy got out behind her, the brunette's features pinched and worried for Miranda who could not afford to let it show, following close behind her the whole way.


Andy knew Miranda was exhausted when the other woman got into an elevator occupied by two other people when they returned to the hotel in the early evening. Miranda quite peacefully tucked herself into the back corner upon finding the elevator occupied while Andy was the one agitated and glaring at the other passengers.

If the elevator had been empty she would have been able to hold Miranda's hand.

When they entered Miranda's room, the older woman carelessly tossed her coat and jacket to the side. By the time Andy made it into the other room after picking up the items and hanging them, Miranda had her hands braced on the edge of the table in front of a large brass framed mirror and was staring at her reflection intently.

Andy made her way over to Miranda and after only a seconds hesitation wrapped her arms around her waist, and rested her chin on Miranda's shoulder, hugging her into her body.

"I could cancel your evening if you want," Andy said thinking that she knew how this conversation was going to end but needing to make the offer anyway.

Miranda sighed and relaxed into Andy's embrace, her head dipping down as the warmth of Andy's body seeped into her back, doing the impossible and actually relaxing her a measure.

"Yes," Miranda said surprising them both with her response. "Cancel," she continued, "whatever it is," she went on turning around in Andy's arms so that they were face to face, Andy's arms still lightly looped around her.

Miranda lifted her hand to Andy's cheek and brushed the backs of her fingers gently down it.

"Thank you," she said softly, her fingers lingering for a moment, and then her hand dropped and she stepped to the side breaking the light hold Andy had on her. "I'll be in the other room."

When Andy finally made it into the other room after being on her phone for what felt like hours, she found Miranda curled up on the couch in the same robe she had found her in the day before, sleeping.

Andy stopped in the doorway and allowed her eyes to travel over Miranda's sleeping form. She had woken up with Miranda that morning, but her back had been turned to her and she had been too busy freaking out to really take stock of Miranda in slumber.

She looked peaceful asleep. Andy had thought that perhaps she would have a cute little frown on her lips, her mind planning and buzzing even in sleep, but she liked Miranda's actual tranquil expression more. She was glad that at least in sleep the older woman was able to find some peace.

Andy turned behind her to look at the front door, contemplating leaving Miranda to her rest, but she found that she really didn't want to leave the other woman's presence. They had been together almost constantly for twenty-four hours, and to her dismay and delight she found that that wasn't enough.

Moving over to the couch, Andy perched herself on the arm of the chair and reached over, her hand hovering above Miranda's head for a moment before she finally lowered it, sighing softly as she ran her fingers through Miranda's luxurious silver hair.

So soft, she thought to herself, her eyes closing as she continued to pet Miranda's hair.


Andy's eyes snapped open and she looked down at the softly uttered word.

"Sorry," Andy said lifting her hand, an apologetic look on her face. She hadn't meant to wake Miranda she had just wanted to be connected to her in some way.

"Don't be," Miranda replied, staring up into Andy's face for a long moment before shifting into a sitting position on the couch, clearing enough space so that Andy could move from the arm of the chair onto the cushion beside her.

Andy looked down at the space Miranda had cleared for her and blushed.

"A-are, um, are you hungry?" Andy asked quickly slipping into the space Miranda had cleared, trying to dislodge the memory of Miranda pining her down on the couch the night before as her fingers moved inside of her. "You barely ate anything at the luncheon. I could get you something from …"

Miranda placed a finger over Andy's lips silencing her.

"I'm not hungry," Miranda breathed out softly a moment later, her thumb tracing over Andy's bottom lip.

"No?" Andy breathed out, Miranda's thumb slipping between her lips momentarily as she spoke, causing a shiver to run through Andy's body.

"No," Miranda replied softly, and then slowly she leaned towards Andy, her finger falling away from the brunette's lips to be replaced by her mouth.

Andy gasped then sighed at the press of Miranda's lip against hers, her hand immediately reaching out for the silver-haired woman, cupping her neck, pulling Miranda closer to her as they continued to explore each others mouths.

The kiss was different from the ones they had shared the night before. It was softer and tender where they had been heated and passionate and frenzied the previous evening. The gentleness of the kiss made Andy's heart pound rapidly in her chest and she heard herself moan into Miranda's lips as she shifted on the couch, moving closer to the older woman, seeking more contact with her until she was practically sitting in Miranda's lap.

"Andrea," Miranda said, her voice quivering as she spoke, her fingers moving to trail over Andy's cheeks as they both breathed deeply, plastered against each other.

Miranda found that she was quite at a loss as to what to say after that however, and lapsed into an uncharacteristic silence. She never found herself at a loss for words, and yet one kiss from Andrea Sachs had rendered her mute. She wasn't really one for hand holding either, or someone who sought validation in the opinion of others or a number of other things that she found herself being and wanting around Andrea. When Andrea was around her, she felt quite unlike herself and yet in some strange and uncomfortable way more like herself than ever before.

Shivering a little as her fingers fell away from Andrea's cheek, Miranda realized that somewhere along the way she had come to not only depend on Andrea, but to genuinely like her. She … cared about Andrea's opinion of her. She … cared about Andrea's feelings. She … cared about Andrea.

Miranda's hands fell to rest limply on Andrea's hips, her eyes drifting away from the brunette as they did.

She was Miranda Priestly, the Demon Editor of the Garment District. She was indomitable, unstoppable, and unconquerable. She was always ready to face any challenge, to face anything. Only, she wasn't sure she was ready for this, she wasn't sure she was ready for Andrea Sachs and what Andrea Sachs seemed to be doing to her. She had lost her husband, she had nearly lost her job, she was certain that the twins were going to hate her for losing them yet another father (figure), and she wasn't sure how much more turmoil and change even she could handle.

"Hey," Andy said softly, her fingers moving up to rest under Miranda's chin which she then gently nudged up until she could see Miranda's eyes once more. "I'm not hungry either," Andy continued once Miranda was looking up at her, a playful smile ghosting across her lips before she leaned forward and pressed her lips against Miranda's once more, kissing her slowly, the caressing simmering with passion.

Miranda wrapped her arms around Andrea's body more tightly, returning the kiss, opening her mouth to Andrea a few moments later allowing the brunette to deepen the kiss.

She wasn't ready …

Andy's hands brushed up Miranda's sides as they kissed, her fingers trailing up her torso before lightly skimming over her breast, her lips curving up in a smile against Miranda's as her thumbs brushed over the silver-haired woman's rapidly hardening nipples.

"I could help you slip into something more comfortable, if you want," Andy whispered against Miranda's lips, her thumbs still moving across Miranda's nipples, teasing, as she spoke.

Miranda smirked, before pulling back from Andy's lips and leaning back giving the brunette better access to her body, her robe already parted giving Andy a tantalizing view of what lay beneath.

"By all means," Miranda began to drawl as Andy stared at her, biting down on her bottom lip as her eyes roamed over Miranda's body. "Move at a glacial pace," the older woman continued her lips quirking slightly as Andy peered over at her with an amused expression. "You know how that thrills me."

"I do," Andy responded smiling. "I do," she repeated again before leaning forward attaching her lips to Miranda's as her nimble fingers slipped beneath Miranda's robe and went to work at a pace that was anything but glacial.

Miranda didn't know if she was ready for Andrea Sachs and all that she promised, but it seemed that she was going to find out, ready or not.

The End