Disclaimer: Miranda Priestly and Andrea 'Andy' Sachs are the property of Twentieth Century Fox and Lauren Weisberger, and I am just borrowing them and taking them for a spin. No copyright infringement intended.

Pairing: Miranda/Andy (MirAndy)

Rating: A/U Alternate Universe. PG—NC-17 depending on chapter.

Summary: Miranda Priestly is a resistance leader in the Danish countryside during WW2 with Andrea Sachs as her aide-de-camp. Every new assignment means putting their lives on the line, but other events forcing them closer together on a personal level prove to be just as lethal - to their hearts.

Dark Horizon

By Gun Brooke

MirAndy A/U Fan Fiction


Part 10

Miranda stood in the doorway, watching the bundle curled up in her bed in the half-darkened room. Andrea had slept for two whole days after waking up shortly the same morning she brought her home. Now it was evening on the third day, and Andrea had been a little more awake, even sitting at the kitchen table while having her dinner. Miranda had come up from her office at Nordia to check on her several times, and though Andrea had been awake twice, the young woman seemed remote, as if she wasn't quite there.

Dr. Andersen had seen Andrea every day and he reminded Miranda to be patient, a trait she admitted wasn't one of her more prominent ones.

"Andrea is in mourning, of sorts," the doctor said. "She has to come to terms with not being able to save the skipper of her boat. After risking her life to save him, all she can think about right now is that she failed."

"Failed?" Miranda said, aghast. "She helped save thousands."

"And lost one of the heroes in the process. She is second-guessing her actions, her ability. Give her time."

"She can have time, but I can't watch her suffer like this." Miranda paced behind her desk. "I can't sit idly by and watch her blame herself for what was clearly not her fault."

"Intellectually she knows that." Dr. Anderson pinched the bridge of his nose. "She agrees that being attacked at sea by the Luftwaffe's planes are not ideal circumstances, but in her heart, she feels she should have held her breath longer, acted swifter, and done more."

"So, in your opinion, what will help her the most? And don't give me that loosely phrased 'give her time' concept, I realize it won't happen overnight, but I need a clear course of action here."

"All right. Don't contradict her too much, even if you want to. Let her mull it over, but if she gets too agitated or shows sign of self-destructive tendencies, then you have to distract her. Be loving and affectionate."

Miranda's head snapped up at the last comment. How much did Dr. Andersen know, or guess?

"Miranda," he said, looking tired, but not unkind. "I don't mean to overstep any personal boundaries, but it's clear that you care for the girl. You have hardly eaten, nor getting enough sleep, I suspect, and if she was just another employee, you'd be acting much differently. I take the doctor-patient confidentiality very seriously, so you need not fear anything you tell me, or anything I observe, becoming common knowledge."

Miranda relaxed marginally. The doctor was a good man. She knew this, and he'd been turning a blind eye to gunshot wounds and other injuries sustained by resistance fighters over the last years, no questions asked. "Thank you, Åge," she said quietly. "I appreciate that. I will try to be patient and give her time. When will you need to see her next time?"

"I'll come by after the weekend. She's physically out of the woods, but I think her mental state of mind needs monitoring still."

Miranda had thanked him again, quite forgetting for a moment that 'thank you' were not words she usually bestowed upon people.

Andrea shifted in bed, breaking Miranda out of her reverie. "Miranda?" Her voice was husky, but stronger than just a day ago. "You all right?"

"I think that's my line, Andrea." Miranda sat down on the bed. "Did you have a nice nap?"

"I did, actually." Andrea sat up, rubbing her eyes. "No nightmares for once."

"That is wonderful. You do look more rested. Hungry?"

"No. Thirsty though."

Miranda poured some water from a pitcher sitting on the nightstand into a glass. "Here you go."

"Thanks." Andrea drank it all with thirsty gulps, some of the water spilling down her throat. The pink cotton nightgown absorbed the water. "Oh. Sorry."

"It's just water." Miranda watched the moist trail on Andy's skin. Her own mouth suddenly dry, she poured a glass for herself as well. Sipping it, she avoided Andrea's curious glance for a moment.

"You going back to the office?" Andrea asked carefully.

"No. It's six-thirty. We're closed." Miranda placed her glass on the nightstand and did the same with Andrea's. "So you're not hungry, and you've had some water. Anything else I can get for you?"

"You don't need to wait on me, Miranda." Andrea blushed faintly. "It's not…not right, somehow. I mean, I work for you."

"And…" Miranda narrowed her eyes. Was that it? Had Andrea's ordeal shed light on the fact that Miranda was old enough to be her mother, and that Andrea wanted, no, deserved, better?

"And, even if we've been intimate, you don't owe me any special treatment." Andrea was trembling now.

Miranda fought to remain calm, speaking matter-of-factly even if her heart was beating so painfully in her chest; she thought it was starting to shatter. She forced herself to speak lightly, as if they were discussing something impersonal matter. "So, if I was hurt and in need of your attention and care, you'd expect me to fend for myself, or employ a nurse, some stranger, to take care of me?"

"Wh-what? No. No! That's not what I mean. I'd move heaven and earth to be there. To take care of you. They'd have to fight me to get to you." Andrea breathed hard after her outburst, only to stop gasping for a few moments and then go, "Oh."

"Yes. Oh." Miranda scooted closer. "I feel the same. I need to take care of you. I want to be here, to help you come to terms with what happened. Hold you." Miranda wrapped her arms around Andrea's shoulders, shocked at how thin she felt. "Will you please let me do that, Andrea?"

If Miranda hadn't been so overwrought, she would have chuckled at the surprise in Andrea's eyes, most likely at the word 'please.' Another uncommon expression for her.

"I…yes. Yes." Suddenly Andrea flung her arms around Miranda's neck. "Yes. Oh, I've been so scared."

Frowning, Miranda let Andrea cling hard to her for a while before she pulled back enough to see her face. "Why have you been afraid?"

"I l-let you down. Everybody. I let everybody down. I figured…I thought, once I'm able to function, you'd want me gone." She blinked repeatedly, her eyes filling with tears.

Miranda could almost hear the clatter in her chest as a piece of her heart fell off. Shattering. A heart can actually break. "Andrea. Listen to me. You haven't let anyone down, least of all me. Can't you feel how much I love you?"

The look on Andrea's face was one that should have been saved for posterity. Her cheeks paled, only to go a lovely shade of pink moments after. Her big, brown eyes filled with wonder and tears in equal parts, and her lips, oh, that full, curvaceous mouth, trembled and parted slightly. "Wh-what?"

"I love you, Andrea. Unless you've gone back on your own statement, I believe you harbor similar emotions for me?" Miranda knew she trembled as much as Andrea did and now she made it worse by holding her breath.

"No, I haven't. I do. I love you so much, Miranda, and words are not enough to describe how that feels."

"For once your lack of eloquence is understandable. I myself find this hard to describe." Miranda pressed her lips to the young woman's hair. "All I know is I can't be without you. I need you to work very hard to regain your health. If something happened to me, you'd leave a lonely, withered shell of a woman behind."

"I will, Miranda. I will." Andrea pushed shaking hands into Miranda's impeccable hairdo and tugged her in for a kiss. It was so long ago, and the kissing felt brand new, and yet comfortingly familiar.

Miranda parted her lips and ran the tip of her tongue along the inside of Andrea's upper lip. She repeated it with her lower lip, and Andrea moaned with such breathless abandon, Miranda pushed the shoulder straps of her nightgown down her arms.

"May I?" Miranda whispered huskily. "May I, Andrea? Is it too soon? I understand if it is."

"No. It's not too soon. It's not soon enough." Andrea began unbuttoning Miranda's blouse, only to clearly lose her patience. She tugged at the fabric, sending buttons flying in her attempt to remove it.

Miranda didn't care about the blouse. She was thrilled that Andrea seemed to have come out of that invisible fog that had followed her home from the ocean. Miranda pushed Andrea's nightgown down further, revealing her breasts with hardened nipples. Her bruises were almost faded, barely visible through a yellow hue. She bent down to kiss one of the alluring globes when Andrea suddenly pulled Miranda close and over onto her back. Miranda stared up at her lover through her disheveled hair. "Andrea?"

"I'm sorry. Or not. I just have to look at you. I need to see you. All of you. Please. Let me look at you." Andrea seemed as intent on 'looking' with her hands as they roamed freely under the torn blouse.

"As much as you require. You can look as much as you want," Miranda whispered. "You can do anything you want. Anything."

"Yes?" The innocence in Andrea's eyes was still very much present, but there was also something that resembled predatory, but Miranda suspected it was more of a feral need, than anything.


Andrea unzipped Miranda's skirt, then changed her mind and merely pushed it up, bunching it above Miranda's hips. Unhooking the garter belt, she rolled the silk stockings off Miranda's legs, her hands mapping every part them.

"You have pink toenails." Andrea sounded breathless. "They are so small. So…endearing."

"There is nothing endearing about me," Miranda objected, groaning inwardly at the warmth in her cheeks. "Honestly, Andrea."

"Your toes are." Andrea slid her hands upward again, hooked her fingers around the hem of Miranda's panties. "May I?"

"I did say 'anything'."

Andrea swiftly pulled off the undergarment. Miranda knew she should feel exposed in the semi-lit up room. In a way she did, but since it was Andrea, she was fine. Andrea impatiently pushed her hair behind her ears. "Arch your back."

Miranda obeyed.

Hot hands slid underneath her and unhooked her bra. Andrea pushed it up above Miranda's breasts. Moving to sit between Miranda's legs, Andrea pulled her nightgown off completely.

"Oh!" Miranda felt wetness flood between her thighs at the sudden sight of a naked Andrea. "God, darling, are you trying to give me a coronary?"

"You should talk," Andrea muttered. "You, with your flawless skin, your stunning hair, your scent, and those eyes of yours…those damn eyes…" She drew a trembling breath. "Turn your head sideways." Miranda complied. Quickly, Andrea removed the hairpins and combs and combed out Miranda's hair with her fingers. "Oh, yes."

"I take it you approve."

"You take it correctly." Andrea smiled faintly. Her lips were blood red, and even fuller than usual. "I'm sorry. I will have to make you mine now."

"You already did that, quite some time ago."

"Then I need to repeat it."

Andy pushed Miranda's pale legs wider apart, coaxing her lover into bending them at the knees. She was nervous, but also so amazingly certain what she wanted to do to Miranda. Do with her. For her. For herself. It all merged in the all overshadowing urge to map out the whole landscape of the woman before her. The fact that Miranda allowed it, no, more than that, desired it, wanted it, and loved Andy, was what burned in her chest right now.

Cupping the sides of Miranda's waist, Andy pressed heated kisses, mouth open, and tongue agile, against the perfect skin. Slowly she explored Miranda's breasts, which elicited more and more urgent moans from her lover. Eventually Miranda was so delirious with obvious arousal, she began to become incoherent. "Please, oh, please…Andrea…darling, like so, no, more, more. Don't stop. Oh, God, plea-please don't stop." Dampness matted them against her skin, and her legs trembled as Andy pressed her shoulders between them. Not about to delay, wanting to please Miranda and heal herself, Andy slipped her tongue through the drenched folds.

"Andrea!" Miranda cried out loudly and arched into the mouth that latched onto her. "You don't have to…oh, but it feels so good, so good, so good…" Again incoherent, Miranda gripped at Andy's hair, tugging gently. "Burning…you burn me. Burn right through me."

Wiggling her tongue, flattening at the hard bundle of nerves, Andy reveled in how crazy she was making Miranda. She remembered how fantastic this had felt when Miranda did it to her, but she had no idea what this would do to her own body. Andy managed to pull Miranda's right leg down and in between her own. She needed relief to for the overpowering sweet ache there, and rubbing against Miranda's leg as she kept up caressing every part of Miranda's sex with her tongue was the only thing she could think of. As Miranda began a telltale keening sound, Andrea knew neither of them would last much longer. She pushed her tongue inside Miranda's entrance and was met by such copious wetness; it startled her for a fraction of a second. Once she got herself together, she lapped at Miranda in long, languid strokes before she simply attacked the sensitive bundle and sucked it into her mouth.

Miranda came with such violent sobs it nearly frightened Andy at first. Still, her own rubbing against Miranda's leg were creating delicious friction that began as a sizzle along her veins, grew into a roar, and when she climaxed, Andy could still hear Miranda's voice as she came and came in one shudder after another.

Andy exploded, hard and suddenly, against the perfect skin of Miranda's leg. Suddenly persistent arms pulled her up and close. Miranda held her close and pulled at the bed-sheet, covering her eyes as she began to cry.

"Miranda!" Forgetting the lovely afterglow, Andy pulled the woman she loved into her arms. "Miranda, please, what's wrong?"

"No-nothing." Miranda curled up against her, gasping with every breath. "Nothing is wrong."

"Then everything is all right?" Andy tried.


"Good." Andy made sure they were covered by the duvet as their bodies began to cool off. "I'm glad."

"As am I."

"I love you, Miranda. I didn't think I be able to keep my promise to you."

"What? What promise?" Miranda poked her head up, her eyes slightly puffy from the tears.

"You told me to be safe and I said I would be."

"Oh, darling, yes. I feared that too. While I waited for all the boats with our people to come back, it was all I could think of. You realize this is your third time."

"Third time? What do you mean?"

"Exhibit one: You ran your bike into a German vehicle and hit you head. Exhibit two: You ran into German soldiers and were nearly caught. And now, exhibit three: you nearly drowned." Miranda glowered at Andy, but there was a bright, blinding light in her eyes. "I guess I will need to repeat the orders every day for a very long time. A lifetime."


"Yes. Be safe, Andrea. Stay alive, Andrea." Miranda appeared to hesitate. "Be mine, Andrea?"

Andrea hiccupped as a violent sob shook her. "Yours? Yes. Yes. And yes. I'm yours. You needn't ask. It's been a done deal for a long time. I love you, Miranda Priestly."

They held onto each other, eyes probing eyes. "I love you, Andrea Sachs."

Andy sighed contentedly, feeling a lot better than she did before Miranda came home. She glanced around her. Home. So surreal and so wonderful at the same time. Closing her eyes, Andy snuggled down next to her woman. The future still hung in the balance, mostly because of the war, but also because they from now on would live controversial lives.

Miranda's arms were soft and steady around her as Andy closed her eyes. There was nothing she wouldn't do for this woman, as Miranda held the key for Andy's happiness, both right here and now, and in the uncertain future.


"It was a man named Christian." Miranda's voice was hollow.

"What?" Andy looked up from her breakfast toast. "Which Christian—oh."

"He was responsible for what happened to Laurits, and he was also responsible for alerting the Germans about you. Well, not you per se, but the location of someone of rank in the resistance when you went to Preben's farm to obtain the message regarding the rescue effort. I believe you met him there."

"I sure did. What a sleazy man. He flirted with me." Andy made a face.

"Did he now. Then it doesn't weigh one little bit that Preben and his men dealt with that traitor once and for all." Miranda spoke curtly and sipped her coffee. "He sold you out, and he sold out the rescue effort with devastating repercussions. Good thing he got the time wrong. Had he been more accurate, the planes would have fired upon boats filled with refugees out to sea."

"Thank God that didn't happen."

"Yes." Miranda's look was still icy. "His double-agent days are over. Preben said they managed to get some disinformation over to the Germans before he was…dealt with."

Andy cringed. She knew how harsh the resistance fighters could be when they found a traitor in the midst. Andy knew Christian was a liability, but the fact that he'd been so calculatingly dealt with, was still unnerving. Miranda on the other hand looked positively predatory where she cupped her mug with both hands, her eyes lost in the distance.

"It's time you started utilizing me again, Miranda," Andy said quietly. "I'm all better now. I need to pull my weight somehow around here."

"It's too early," Miranda said darkly.

"No. I need to start working, both at Nordia and within the resistance. Even Dr. Andersen says it's time to move on."

"Move on." Miranda looked suspiciously at her. "Move where?"

"It's a figure of speech, Miranda," Andy said patiently when all she really wanted to thud her forehead against the kitchen table. "You know what I mean."

"I do? Very well. I do." Miranda laced her fingers together on the table right before her. "I assume you can go anywhere you want."

"Only if I get to go there with you," Andy said, smiling carefully. She still maneuvered with caution through this proverbial minefield when Miranda did her powder-keg-with-short-fuse impression.

"So this 'moving on' is metaphorically speaking and something you suggest I do too? With you?" Miranda's voice didn't telegraph anything.

"Yes. With me." Andy took one of Miranda's hands and held it against her cheek across the table. "Always with me. I can't do without you. Ever."

Miranda softened just like that. As if Andy was a magician wielding a wand, chanting a spell, or pulling a rabbit out of a hat, Miranda's mood changed to that of a loving partner. "Always with you. The things you do to me, Andrea, when you speak like that."

She did to Miranda? Didn't Miranda know what she did to Andy yet, just by looking at her, homing in on her with those search-light-blue eyes?

"I love you. I need to work again." Andy kept Miranda's twitching hand firmly between hers. "I love you. I need to get in touch with all my contacts and check on Laurits and his family, especially."

"I know." Miranda sighed and came over to Andy's side of the table. Without any preamble, she straddled Andy's legs, her grey silk robe riding up her thighs. "I love you, Andrea." She held on to the backrest of the chair, her arms effectively locking Andy's in place. "I know what you need to do. What you must do for our people, and ultimately for Denmark, but listen to me. You belong to me. You're mine. You know me well enough to realize that what is mine, I keep. I do not take kindly to anybody breaking or mishandling what's mine. If anyone objects to this possessive part of my nature, frankly I don't give a damn. There was a time, a very brief time, when I could have let you go, but that was a long time ago. Long before you ran into the Germans with your bike."

Andy didn't dare say a word, because this was news even to her. Holding her breath she tried to will Miranda into continuing.

"So, you see, my love, you take on a great responsibility. Do your duty, do what you feel you must, and what needs to be done. Just know that I fully expect you to return to me, unharmed, in one piece." Miranda's voice trembled now; the public persona was all by erased. "Because if you don't…I'll have no chance of personal happiness ever again. Nobody will ever compare with you. I would go on, for my girls, but the part of me, the very big part of me, that loves you beyond anyone and anything else, would not exist anymore. I would no longer be whole. Do you understand, Andrea?"

Andy did understand, and there was a reason for that. A reason that clearly hadn't yet dawned on Miranda. "Everything you just said, every part of it, goes for me as well, Miranda." Andy wiggled her right arm free. She pushed it gently down between them, knowing Miranda wore nothing under the robe. Cupping her lover gently, she spoke intensely, wanting Miranda to understand. "You're my everything. Everything. So, yes, I'm yours." She let her fingertips barely touch the slick folds and the nerve endings that made Miranda moan, tipping her head back. "And be assured, Miranda, you're mine."

Miranda whimpered, "Yes," and rubbed herself against Andy's hand. "Yes. Yes. Yes."

Slowly, and with all the love she felt for this amazing, impossible woman, Andy brought Miranda to inevitable bliss, and watched her disintegrate before her eyes as the powerful convulsions tore through her.

When Miranda finally opened her eyes and looked at Andy with her emotions readily visible, Andy knew it would never cease to amaze her. When Miranda cupped Andy's face and kissed her with the same intensity that was in her eyes, Andy knew without a doubt; this was right, this was love. This was home.

Gothenburg, January 6, 1943

Dear Andy and Miranda,

I hope this letter reaches you. The previous ones came back 'return to sender'. I feel I can't stop trying until one of them does reach you, because I worry for you so. So many questions swirl in my head. Did Andy make it back all right? Did you two stay together like you were always meant to? Are you safe?

We are doing quite well here in Gothenburg. We found our rabbi and followed him and his wife here, together with the older couple and their grandson that was in our boat coming over. I am working as a cook for a wealthy family in Örgryte, and Hanna found work in a lumberyard. She works in the office and the best part is that she is engaged to a young man who also works there.

The children are in school and doing well. Young My wants me to tell Andy that she still is adamant about keeping the hot chocolate secret.

Please try to get word to us if you can. We live in an apartment in the part of Gothenburg called Olskroken. Our address is on the back of this letter.

I can never thank you enough. Miranda for what she did, and Andy for seeing safely over to our new home. When the war is over, my greatest hope is to go back home, find the two of you happy and in good health, and finally get a chance to thank you in person.

With all our love,

Rakel, Hanna and the children