Part 5

Now

Andy sits at her desk writing another letter. She can't help but think that, although Gregory will no longer need these letters, Andy still needs to write them. She has been home for two hours since her humanitarian act of getting Gregory through Miranda's door, and Andy is consumed with jealousy. Of course, she has no one to blame but herself.

"A kiss. A vow made at closer range, a more precise promise, a confession that contains its own proof, a seal placed on a pact that has already been signed; it's a secret told to the mouth rather than to the ear, a fleeting moment filled with the hush of eternity, a communion that has the fragrance of a flower, a way of living by the beat of another heart, and tasting another soul on one's lips." Andy finishes reading her words and grimaces in agony.

Throwing down her pen, Andrea feels tears dripping off her face. Noting how they smudge her writings, Andy turns away. Gregory probably has shared many kisses with Miranda tonight. Maybe more. Andy blanches.

Turning back to the notebook, she rips out the pages, one at a time. As she does so she becomes more and more angry, even as her tears gather speed. Andy finally understands that she must let go of all the unrealistic hopes she's harbored. She will never be with Miranda.

Hearing a knock, Andy blindly stumbles to the door. Distraught, Andy flings the door wide before freezing in shock. Before her stands Miranda with the oddest expression on her face. Andy turns quickly, swiping at her tears uselessly.

"Andrea." The way Miranda says her name causes Andy to shiver.

"Why aren't you with Gregory?" Andy asks before she can think better of it.

Miranda tilts her head. "Why would I be with him? Our dinner concluded several hours ago."

Focusing on Miranda's face, Andy can practically feel the trap she is setting. "Oh. Well, I must have lost track of the time." She stands stiffly as Miranda touches Andy's hair softly. Miranda withdraws her hand and looks at a pine needle she has retrieved. Andy's eyes widen as Miranda smirks.

Hearing her cell phone ring, Andy walks to her desk, Miranda following closely. Looking at the call screen, Andy grimaces. It's Gregory. Miranda also sees who is calling.

"Aren't you going to answer that, Andrea?" Miranda drawls. It's clear that Gregory has messed up again and is calling for more advice. Or more letters. Andy realizes that all the rough drafts of the love letters are spread across her desk. Murphy's Law is in full effect, however, and before Andy can move Miranda away, she sees them.

In horror, Andy watches as Miranda picks them up and starts to scan them. "Hey!" she shouts and tries to pull them out of Miranda's hands. Miranda is stronger than she appears, though, and holds on tightly while continuing to read. Miranda focuses on the top page containing the words Andy has just written. "Don't read those. Please!" Andy cries, continuing to tug at the papers ineffectually.

Suddenly Miranda pivots and successfully breaks Andy's grasp. She takes several steps away from the desk and begins to read aloud. "A kiss.…a way of living by the beat of another heart, and tasting another soul on one's lips." Miranda looks up, fire in her eyes. "I haven't seen this one."

Andy gasps. Mutely, Andy watches Miranda gently move her thumb over tear stains gracing the pages before placing the letters on a nearby table.

"I knew the handwriting looked familiar," Miranda murmurs. She strides toward Andy, who backs up into the desk. In the blink of an eye, Miranda is so close that their breaths mingle. Before Andy can fathom what is occurring, Miranda has pulled her forward for a luscious, intense, extremely thorough kiss.

Andy wonders whether her grief over Gregory's pursuit of Miranda combined with her knowledge that Miranda could never, ever return her love have thrown her into some type of psychotic break. Certainly she is not kissing Miranda Priestly, the woman she has loved from afar for so, so long. It is not possible. Any moment now she will return to her lonely reality, crying over her broken heart.

Any moment now.

A tongue seeking entrance causes Andy to moan loudly. She practically swoons as Miranda takes her time exploring the contours of her mouth before stroking their tongues together gloriously. Andy realizes that she is bent backward, practically prostrate on the desk, as Miranda's hands hold her head steady. Miranda's single-minded focus on plundering Andy's mouth causes Andy's body to burn. Surely she shall combust from disbelief, heat, ecstasy, or some combination.

When Miranda finally ends the kiss, she does not release Andy's face. They stare at each other. Andy is mesmerized by Miranda's passion-darkened eyes and flushed face. She pants lightly, not knowing what will happen next. This is so outside of her imagination, she can do nothing but wait for Miranda to say something, do something.

Gently, Miranda moves her hands to Andy's upper arms and pulls her into an upright position. They become flush with each other, causing Andy to lose what little breath she has regained. Miranda smirks as she wraps her arms around Andy's waist. Reverently, Andy runs her hands over Miranda's shoulder blades, satisfaction blazing through her when she feels Miranda tremble.

"It never quite made sense to me how he knew me so well. Those letters," Miranda sighs. "Those letters. I wanted to be the woman described in those letters. I wanted to be loved the way those letters professed to love me."

Andy is fascinated. She feels an elegant hand cup her cheek.

"Yet at dinner tonight, Gregory proved tiresome." Andy cannot help but raise her eyebrows in surprise. She had spent more time than she cared to admit with the man, and although he isn't the most fascinating person she has ever met, he isn't the most boring either. Catching Andy's look, Miranda adds, "His behavior did not measure up to those letters in any way."

Although she isn't quite sure why, Andy feels tears lining up.

"You can imagine my surprise when he showed up at my door two hours later speaking so eloquently that it sounded as if he were reading poetry. Or being coached." Andy catches her breath and bites her bottom lip. "I still couldn't figure out how that could be until he mentioned what I wore at the charity event last month."

Miranda smiles fully, stroking Andy's cheek. "How could you think I would not recognize the same words you spoke that night to me?" Andy shakes her head mutely. "That coupled with his little speech about giving up his happiness for mine gave me cause to become suspicious. So, I pulled him inside and persuaded him to reveal the truth."

Andy is uncertain how to react. Perhaps recognizing her anxiety, Miranda smiles softly. "I have wanted to be closer to you for some time. I promised myself I would wait until your tenure was over and you were no longer my assistant. I've been grooming you for an assistant features editor position, or did you believe I allow all my assistants to write articles for Runway?" Ignoring Andy's gasp, Miranda continues. "And I realized something tonight. Every time I read those letters, I heard your voice. His voice and your words never meshed well." Miranda looks at Andy through lowered eyelashes. "Knowing that you return my feelings," Miranda shrugs gracefully, "how could I stay away?"

"But you were willing to be with him—you had dinner with him!" Andy says in despair.

"No, no. I had no intention of being with him, as you so eloquently characterize it. I wanted to put an end to the letters, as delicious as they were—I might not have quite figured out what was occurring, but I knew I had no intention of being with him."

"Miranda, oh, Miranda!" Andy says before pulling her into a tight embrace. "I never allowed myself to imagine you might return my feelings—the notion seemed so absurd. I am such an imperfect beast, clumsy and awkward while basking in your beauty," Andy whispers fervently. "The chance to see you happy, even at the expense of my pitiable heart, proved too great a temptation." Pulling away Andy searches Miranda's eyes. "You must know I only want you to be happy."

"I am happy. Now. And I will be even happier when I feel your kiss again, when I hear you profess your love to me—"

"Oh, I do, I do!" Andrea interrupts. "Miranda, I love you to such an extent my heart is sorely overworked. Each time I see you, it beats so rapidly that I am surprised you cannot see it pushing against my breast, trying to reach you."

"Hmm. I think this bears investigation," Miranda says thoughtfully. She watches Miranda look around the apartment before their eyes reunite. Andy feels herself guided toward the bedroom. "Pushing against your breast, you say?" Miranda propels Andy on the bed and follows, holding herself above Andy's body slightly.

Turning her head to the side, Miranda makes a show of pressing her head against Andy's breastbone. "Well. It certainly sounds as if it is trying to break free. However, with all these clothes covering you, I cannot determine adequately what your heart is attempting. After all," Andy is pinned by fiery eyes, "I have learned rather recently that sometimes all is not as it appears."

Unable to do nothing more than shudder and moan and plead and gasp as Miranda removes her blouse, Andy lets loose a long, guttural moan when Miranda begins nibbling on her collarbones once Andy's chest is bare. "Miranda, let me touch you," Andy begs. "Please, if you hold any affection for me in your heart, do not deny me any longer. I have lived for this day."

Andy flips them over and unceremoniously pulls Miranda's blouse off. Gazing at the filmy lingerie taunting Andy, she rubs her cheek against Miranda's chest. She feels emboldened by Miranda's groan of pleasure.

"Miranda," Andy murmurs in awe. "Each whisper of your voice breathes life into me. I live each moment on the precipice of death, brought back from destruction by your words."

"Andrea," Miranda moans obligingly as Andy removes Miranda's skirt. Once she leans on her side with her eyes level to Miranda's belly button, Andy reverently strokes Miranda's hip, exploring the indentations with fascination. Andy runs her fingertips lightly over a slightly rounded belly, smiling as the muscles ripple in response. "Come here," Miranda pleads.

Andy has never heard that tone of voice. Shivering with anticipation, she crawls up the bed, held captive by intense blue eyes. Arms reach up to hold her closely as their lips melt together. Andy feels hands exploring her back before lowering to her hips. Andy surges forward as those wicked hands begin wandering over her buttocks. "Tell me what you are feeling," Miranda whispers into Andy's ear, nipping the lobe teasingly. As she lays claim to Andy's neck, she struggles to think.

"Ah!" Andy cries as teeth nibble a sensitive spot. "I am overcome by your magnificence, deconstructed and rebuilt with your affection. I am water transformed to steam by your heat, accumulating clouds ready to burst forth their liquid." Hands removing Andy's jeans cause her to lose her train of thought. With shaking hands, Andy unclasps Miranda's bra, revealing mouth-watering breasts. Strong fingers knead Andy's buttocks in a rhythm that guides her hips. Andy grinds forcefully against Miranda's thigh while her lips search and find a hardened bud. While sucking on a succulent nipple, Andy's eyes close in ecstasy.

Not taking the time to remove Miranda's panties, Andy pushes aside the filmy material to feel swollen, dripping lips. Andy's name is ripped from Miranda's throat as she slips two fingers inside. Thrusting steadily, Andy flicks her thumb over the protruding clitoris. Fingers pull her head away from Miranda's breast roughly, threading through her hair as they kiss again and again. Andy undulates in time with her finger strokes as they both struggle to maintain their lip lock.

Andy doesn't try to verbalize her feelings now. She is lost in the physicality of their closeness, unable to think. When she feels Miranda's fingers wiggling between their bodies and finding their way to Andy's bundle of nerves, she loses all semblance of control.

Ripping her mouth away from Miranda's lips, Andy howls her pleasure into the night. Miranda's long, drawn-out moan signifies her own climax is upon her. Their bodies gyrate frantically, moving sinuously against each other.

It is glorious.

Andy has the presence of mind to slow down her finger thrusts and rub around Miranda's clitoris gently as she feels the afterglow take hold of her lover.

"Now you listen to me, Andrea Sachs," Miranda whispers throatily. Andy gazes into glistening eyes, loving how out-of-control and flushed Miranda appears. "I feel as if I have stared into the sun too long, and when I close my eyes, all I can see is you again and again and again. Your eyes, twin pools of light illuminating my soul, serve as a beacon my heart shall always willingly follow. Vow to me you will never extinguish such radiance, that you will never direct such brilliance elsewhere."

"Oh, Miranda, you must know I am yours. The first time I met you, I felt like a flower soaking in your radiance. After that day, my only nourishment could be found in you." Andy leans in to kiss Miranda slowly. One kiss becomes two, then several.

"Let us speak in a more fundamental language than that which words afford us," Andy murmurs suggestively before pulling off Miranda's ruined panties, then her own. "Let me communicate, my lips to yours," Andy continues as she opens Miranda's legs and shimmies downward, "using sweeping strokes to convey my meaning."

Miranda's incoherent cries soon fill the silence as Andy makes sure Miranda understands what words can never express.

The End.