Pairing: Miranda/Andrea; The Devil Wears Prada
Author's Notes: A Spring Challenge was issued by mxrolkr on the LJ DWP board to write a story based upon one of the titles for a Meryl Streep movie.
The title I was assigned is—wait for it, wait for it—oh, right. You can see it above. In the title. Ha. Hope you all like it!
Author's Notes, Too: I MAY have fudged the timeline by a couple (or a few) years. Hope you don't mind.
Oh, and I should mention: This is a longer story than what I usually offer with a Prologue, 16 Parts and 3 Outtakes. I hope you enjoy it. Let me know whether you might be interested in a companion story or a sequel through Miranda's POV.
Rating: NC-17/M with a capital M. Lots of sex. Really. Feel the love. The big thaw has commenced, and spring is in the air. No kiddies allowed. It's the law.
Disclaimer: I was going to write a really technical, legal version here about how I am not earning any money off of this story and am merely offering it for entertainment value (in a much more impressive format, of course); forget that—you all know. Plus, I'm a real piss-ant, so if you are the owner of the characters, book, movie—whatever—and want to sue me, go ahead and try. Bring it on. I have a law degree, and I'm not afraid to use it.
Special Thanks: To the best beta around, law_nerd, for reading through this mess and helping me to clean it up. I always know I can depend on you for honest, helpful feedback.
Also to the pinch hitters who stepped in to lend their eagle eyes: mxrolkr, quiethearted, and shesgottaread.
mxrolkr, you are a great cheerleader and morale booster, not to mention spectacularly quick with the reviewing! Thank you for your support and feedback.
Quiethearted, you have proven once again what a wonderful writer you are with your insight and eye for detail. I am grateful for your help.
shesgottaread, I love your honesty and willingness to question why I characterized Andy the way I did. Also, I hate you a little bit for showing me why I had to change all the epithets. Nevertheless, I know readers will be less distracted by the silver-haired woman/fashion editor/older woman and the brunette/younger woman/reporter/journalist and better able to focus on Miranda and Andy.
I truly appreciated the extra support from all of you. After awhile I can't even see straight, so having fresh eyes to review the story is essential.
That said, after receiving feedback regarding what I needed to change and polish, I made some substantial changes. Therefore, any and all mistakes are mine. I apologize to my betas for daring to have any mistakes after all their hard work/kicks in the ass they provided.
spacegoose converted the story to an ePub format. If anyone wants a copy, let me know here or PM me with your e-mail address, and I will forward it to you. THANK YOU, SPACEGOOSE!
And So It Begins
Hurrying down the street, Andy tries not to think about the fact that the wind chill is ten degrees below zero, or that her last interview of the day isn't for three more hours, or that she is furtively looking around hoping to catch a glimpse of—no. She won't think the name. She won't.
Andy may not be able to control her dreams, but she can damn well control her wayward thoughts. It's been six fucking years, after all! When will these feelings fade? When will she be able to move on? When will she be able to walk down a New York street without hoping to somehow see—her?
So caught up in her thoughts, she nearly misses noting that she's striding by the Elias-Clarke building. Nearly. She can never pretend even to herself to be entirely oblivious to her surroundings, not whenever she is near here. Even as she navigates with head down and body huddled, Andy finds herself searching with her peripheral vision for a known face.
She finds one.
"Six!" Nigel exclaims as he grabs her arm.
Andy's head shoots up in surprise. "Nigel!" she responds as she is hauled close for a bear hug. She feels a wave of affection flow through her.
They had kept in touch when she'd left Runway, at first. But as time passed and deadlines dogged their heels, they had drifted away from each other. Nowadays, they exchange emails every so often. They haven't seen each other in about a year, though, and Andy feels guilt settle in her gut knowing she could have done more to keep their friendship alive.
"We have to catch up. Dinner tonight? Say 8:00 o'clock at that new Italian bistro on 47th and 7th?"
Andy quickly agrees, silently vowing to not allow their relationship to wane again. As she walks away, Andy swears she is being watched. The prickling sensation up her spine tells her so. She does not look back.