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 6

It was interesting, in a lethal sort of way, to observe Miranda's behavior the upcoming days. During daytime, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Andy worked at her counter in the ladies tailor department. This part of Nordia catered to the wealthy women in the area, who could afford to have tailor made clothes. The war inexorably made it impossible to carry the fine fabrics imported from Asia or South America, but Miranda had stocked up before the occupation, and so far they were doing quite well. It had only taken Andy a few hours to get up to speed with the seamstresses and which orders they had yet to deliver.

Miranda stalked the different parts of Nordia, from flowers, to men's wear, toys, kitchen appliances, and best grossing department, women's wear. Like a lioness on the prowl, Miranda could show up, fast, as out of thin air, and her minions shook in their pumps. Behind her, Emily usually scurried, taking notes while glaring at anybody that might risk attracting Miranda's wrath.

During the nights, a different Miranda showed up. As soon as Nordia was closed, and Miranda and Andy ascended to the apartment using the elevator, she seemed in a strange way deflated, at least for a moment. This normally changed once they were in a more private setting. Once they had their dinner, and settled in by the radio to listen to music and read, there was an unexpected sort of normalcy that Andy found comfortable and enticing. She knew this wouldn't last, but was set on enjoying every second of this mesmerizing woman's company. When they retired to bed, Miranda curled up next to Andy, and it was clearly implied that Andy was not to bring up the subject of sleeping in another bedroom. Miranda never touched Andy in any intimate way, and it was starting to wear on Andy. She wasn't quite sure why she had these feelings of longing, other than she truly cared for Miranda. Having slept close to her almost a week now, Andy had to force herself to not caress Miranda. Andy had heard rude words for women who liked other women 'that way,' but she couldn't associate what she felt for Miranda with such crude terminology. She could look at, and listen to, Miranda for hours without growing tired of it. When she was surrounded by Chanel No 5 and what had to be Miranda's own special scent, Andy knew her feelings were about love. Which type of love, she simply didn't care about then; she only knew that there was nothing wrong, or crude, about how she felt for Miranda Priestly.

"Andrea. Come. I have instructions for you." Miranda spoke in her customary, terror inducing low voice as she held up the door the apartment. Andy tried to estimate which mood Miranda happened to be in tonight as her eyes were narrow and her movements less graceful than usual.

"I need you to break curfew and go to your backup contact. I received word that things are happening really soon. I need to know when." Miranda walked into the kitchen.

"Wh-what? Back up contact? Something happened to Laurits?" Aghast, Andy thought of the round, jovial farmer, who kept a powerful radio in his barn.

"I'm not sure. The Germans picked him up and from what I heard, they're going to keep him for a while. His radio was removed immediately by our people."

"Oh, fantastic. The radio is rescued. Never mind Laurits being questioned. Even tortured?" Bile rose in Andy's throat, making her words reckless.

"Andrea." Miranda's voice is low as usual, but her eyes fierce. "Our contact at the German headquarters keeps us informed. I will get him out of there. This is a risk we all take."

"But, his wife, and, oh God, his kids." Andy's eyes filled with tears. "They must be so afraid."

"Stop it. You're not helping him by losing it like this. Get a grip. Go do your job. If we don't get word out in time, we're going to get a lot of people killed."

"I will. I will." Andy swallowed the threatening tears. She refused to give into the feeling of buckling under the pressure.

"Very well." Her eyes flat now, Miranda turned to walk away. She turned around before entering the kitchen. "Andrea. I usually don't care for speaking the obvious, and I know I don't have to say this. While you're out there—use caution." She swallowed and her eyes darkened

"Of course. I wouldn't jeopardize our mission."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it. Be safe, Andrea. Please."

Please? Andy blinked at the 'non-Miranda' word. The hallway seemed to slowly stop spinning as her heart settled. "I will. I promise."


Andy's teeth clattered as the cold wind permeated the coverall and her wool underwear. It was unfathomably cold this dark night, and she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to maintain some warmth. Andy made her way up the narrow gravel road to the inconspicuous farm, which lay hidden behind a patch of pine trees. Even during daytime, you had to know exactly where the farmhouse was located to be able to spot it. Tonight, the stars made the pine needles on the road look like shreds of silver as they lit her way to the darkened house.

Andy knocked three times and stepped into the small hallway. Nearly tripping over several pairs of clogs, she pulled the door close behind her. A faint light from the kitchen showed that someone was awake. Farmers went to bed early.

"Preben? Hello? It's Andy. I've come about the eggs." A rather ridiculous way of greeting someone, Andy thought, realizing that she was using a Miranda-expression. Still it was true. 'I've come about the eggs.' Please.

"Come in, Andy." Preben Larsen, only about five years older than Andy poked his head through the door to the kitchen. "There's new information, and also, someone I'd like you to meet."

"What?" Alarmed, Andy hesitated before she stepped into the warm kitchen. A pot of boiling water sat on the fire stove, and the scent of coffee substitute made Andy's mouth water.

"Here. Have some coffee," a stranger's voice said.

Andy reluctantly accepted a cup from then hands of a blond man.

"This is Christian, from Copenhagen," Preben said. "He's made a delivery for us."

"Hello." Andy didn't smile, but shook Christian's hand. "A delivery?"

"We came across a truck load of weapons, ammunition, that sort of thing," Christian said, smiling broadly. "We thought we'd share with our provincial cells."

Andy didn't like the way Christian sneered when he said 'provincial.' "I better bring the new message back, Preben," she said.

"Need help with that?" Christian asked, smiling lopsidedly.

"No, thank you. I'm fine."

"Yes, you are. Better than fine, if you ask me."

Was he flirting with her? Andy wanted to step impatiently on Christian's foot, but smiled non-committedly as Preben brought her the document. He wrapped it in a protective waxed paper. "This should keep it dry and safe."

"It usually does."

"You're sending it with her, just like that?" Christian looked darkly at Preben. "I thought you were supposed to let me have a crack at decoding it."

"Eh…" Preben's ears colored. "I—there's no time. I mean, Andy needs to get going."

"Preben, there are strict protocols in our group how the decoding is done, isn't that right?" Andy asked pointedly. Who the hell was this Christian to think he could waltz in from Copenhagen and mess with their system? After all, it was a system that had kept most of them out of German hands.

"Hey, no hard feelings, I just wanted to see if you all use the same technique as we do." Christian shrugged and fired off another toothy smile at Andy. "I mean, granted you're running your little operations from farms and cottages, but someone should make sure you don't accidentally reveal anything that could harm the big city movement."

"Oh, please," Andy said. "First of all, Aalborg is not exactly rural, and secondly, Denmark consists of more than Copenhagen. We are part of the European mainland here, which Copenhagen is not. We can use a lot of things here among the farms and the cottages," she spat, "but an overbearing—"

"Here, Andy. Hurry home now. Christian and I will divide the shipment between the usual storage places."

"And you are certain that you should bring him? What do you know about him? Really." Andy glowered at the now somber Christian.

"He has quite the reputation, actually," Preben said, sounding just a little too star struck for Andy's taste. "See you soon."

"All right. Just be careful, Preben." Andy didn't bother saying goodbye to Christian, but left the farm and hid among the trees before she inserted the document under the sole in her shoe. Moving as fast as she could, knowing that Miranda was waiting, Andy cursed not having a bicycle anymore. Still, she was probably safer walking and running, than trying to navigate a bike without the lights on.

When she had half an hour of walking left, Andy knew her luck had run out. She heard the sound of several engines approaching and saw the muted headlights approaching from Stavnsdal. Not hesitating, Andy through herself into a ditch, crawling through the mud to hide behind withered tall grass. The vehicles sounded so loud in the night as they passed. Andy carefully peered through the grass, and saw two German cars, ominously sleek and black, and one truck covered with tarp, much like the one she had ridden in the other night.

"What the hell's going on?" Andy murmured. Cursing inwardly at how dirty she was, and how cold, she pushed out of the ditch.

The fourth vehicle seemed to appear out of thin air. Suddenly headlights blinded her and Andy shrieked and threw herself backward into the ditch again, ending up on her back. Pushing frantically with her legs, she tried to regain her footing, to put as much distance between herself and the vehicle. The driver slammed the brakes and soon flashlights scurried like nightly insects and agitated German voices called out orders.

Andy forced herself to hold her breath and stay motionless. She tried to figure out what the soldiers were saying, but they were all talking at once.

"Ruhe!" a dark voice called out, drowning out the others. "Sie können nicht weit erhalten haben."

Andy knew some German, enough to realize that they had seen her, or something, and would search until they found her. Carefully, she pushed her hand down the deep pocket on her right hip and pulled out her gun. Squinting, she tried to estimate how many of them there were. She counted six plus the man giving orders.

The men were noisy as they searched the ditch and the trees farther from the road, and this worked in Andy's favor. She pulled herself back, putting distance between her and the flickering flashlights. The mud made it hard to find foothold to push back, but Andy used both elbows and her free hand to dig into the sodden ground.

One of the flashlights began to come too close. Andy whimpered inwardly and pushed back harder, while also trying to stay low. The light suddenly went out and now she had no way of knowing where the man was. Holding still, trying to quiet her gasping breaths, Andy thought she saw an outline against the starry sky. Then, large boots landed less than a meter from her.

Thinking fast, knowing that everything could soon be over, Andy pushed forward and kicked both feet out at knee height. The man went down with a grunt, landing half on top of Andy. She pushed her gun against his head while finding his mouth with a muddy hand.

"Shh!" Andy shoved the gun harder against the back of the man's head as he began to flail his arms around. He stopped, gasping against her hand.

Andy knew she risked suffocating him with the mud, but if she let go, it would all be over. She glanced over to the rest of the Germans, they had all gone further south and in among the trees. So far, nobody seemed to be missing the man she held at gunpoint. Andy knew she had to make a decision soon, or he would risk breaking free, or call out for the others. Shooting him was only a last-moment choice. Too noisy. They'd be on her like hawks. If she had been able to reach the knife she kept strapped to her leg that could've been an option, but also quite messy, and perhaps not as quiet as you would assume. As Andy saw it, she only had one viable option, and she had to do it now, while the others were far away.

With a tinge of regret, but without hesitation, Andy moved her hand fast, turning the gun around, slamming it down against the base of the soldiers' skull. He collapsed against her. Andy pushed herself free, clutching the weapon tight as she moved toward the tree line away from the soldiers.


Miranda heard the elevator move. It was past midnight and her stomach had been in knots for the last couple of hours. Andrea was late. Beyond late. She opened the door and at first she couldn't see anybody in the elevator. Lowering her gaze, she spotted a figure sitting on the floor, knees pulled up, their face hidden.


Andrea's head snapped up. "Miranda. Hi." Her eyes were huge, impossibly dark in the muted light. She rose, but didn't exit the elevator. "You better not touch me. I—I'm f-filthy."

"Come inside." Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. Miranda could feel it.

"Stay back. I've got mud everywhere. I tried to scrape it off outside, but—but I heard voices, and I—and I…" Andrea's voice died.

"Come." Forcing her voice to sound commanding, Miranda stepped aside to let Andrea pass. She could smell the mud now. "Another bath for you, Andrea." Miranda closed the door behind them, and turned to look at her. She couldn't hold back a gasp at the sight of the dirty, shivering woman. "My God."

Andrea looked at the floor, wincing. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I'll clean it later."

"Never mind the floor. Take your clothes off where you stand. I'll draw a bath for you." Miranda knew she had to step back for a moment, to get a grip of the turmoil inside her. Whatever the reason for her protectiveness and affection for this young woman, it wouldn't do to fall to pieces in front of Andrea when she needed Miranda's care. The sense of déjà vu was surreal to say the least as she began to fill the tub. She stared down at the whirling water, poured lavender bath salts into it and then returned to the hallway where Andrea stood in her underwear, prying another envelope out of her shoe.

"Here. I know it's important." Andrea laughed mirthlessly. "It better be. I might have killed a boy for it."

"What?" Miranda took the envelope and placed it on a small table by the wall. "Andrea, what happened?"

"Germans. Lots of them. One nearly caught me. I had to hit him over the head with my gun to get away." Monotonous, Andrea's voice was contradicted by the pain in her eyes. "I didn't get a good look at him. He sounded…felt…young. I had to hit him really hard."

Miranda ignored Andrea's dirty hands and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her toward the bathroom. "It was you or him. It's rationalizing, I know, but that's the nature of the beast—the beast being the war." Miranda hated what this damned war was doing to young people like Andrea. And, to be fair, to the young German man Andrea had to fight to do her job.

Miranda helped Andrea remove her underwear and into the tub. Sinking down to her chin, Andrea closed her eyes, tears trickling down her cheeks. She didn't sob. In fact, her silent tears had all the more impact on Miranda because they were soundless.

Andrea startled Miranda when she ducked under the surface, staying under for several moments. She broke the surface with a gasp. "Shampoo?"

"Here." Miranda handed her the bottle. She stood next to the tub, watching Andrea scrub her scalp furiously. She ducked again, still scrubbing, pushing the shampoo out of her long strands.

Miranda reached for the handheld showerhead from the wall and turned it on. Andy surface again, blinking against the water drops clinging to her lashes.

"Let me rinse you off," Miranda said.

"What? Oh, all right." Andrea removed the plug from the drain and stood on slightly unsteady legs, holding on to the small ledge where Miranda kept bath salts and soaps. Miranda directed the spray at her, wanting the warm water to keep Andrea from shivering.

"Let me have it." Andrea took the shower hose and rinsed her hair. "There. Done."

Miranda turned off the water and grabbed a towel. Her heart thundered in her chest at the sight of Andrea, and she wrapped the bath towel around the young woman and kept her in a fierce embrace.

"I can't lose you." Miranda was shocked at how raspy her voice sounded. "I can't."

"I was so scared."

"I understand."

"I thought if I failed, if I didn't get the message through—Rakel, her family…"

"Andrea." Miranda didn't feel guilty for thinking of Andrea first. Of losing her. "You have to eat something."

"I can't." Andrea pressed her face into Miranda's shoulder. "I don't want anything. Just hold me. Please."

"Come to bed, then. Let's go to bed. It's late." Miranda pulled gently at Andrea, grateful when she was steady enough to walk next to her to the bedroom.

"The message," Andrea said as they passed the table.

"I've got it." Miranda grabbed the small parcel and placed it on the nightstand. "Just climb into bed." She meant to help Andrea put on a new nightgown, but Andrea simply slipped into bed, huddling with the covers pulled up to her chin.

Miranda sat on the side of the bed, and since Andrea kept looking at the message she'd risked her life for, perhaps killed for, Miranda chose to open it in her presence. Until now, Andrea had never personally seen any of the messages she had couriered, only delivered them and awaited new instructions. She trusts me implicitly. Miranda's stomach clenched around the words echoing in her mind. Andrea was too trusting. As savvy as she was, trained through experience how to survive, she was still so sensitive, so—innocent.

Blinking hard, as if this would help clear her mind as well as forestall ridiculous tears, Miranda looked at the message. It was written in code, of course, an alternating system using literature. Miranda took a copy of HC Andersen's fairytales from her book shelf. Opening the pages in a certain sequence, she used a pencil to write the deciphered message below the code. Once she was done, Andrea had fallen asleep. Miranda read the message one more time. Glancing over at Andrea, tucking the blanket over a naked shoulder, Miranda sighed. Andrea would need all the rest she could get. In two days, the boats would be ready and their lives would be on the line again.

This thought stayed with Miranda as she got ready for bed. She was aware of the fact that Andrea was naked under the covers when she slipped into bed. Murmuring, Andrea turned toward her as Miranda switched off the bedside lamp. The little red lamp across the room cast a warm, muted glow over them.

"Miranda…" Andrea cupped Miranda's cheek, looking at her with drowsy eyes. "Message?"

"I'll let you know tomorrow. Nothing has to happen right away. We have time." Time. Well, not much, Miranda thought. Just a few hours before a new day began. Forty-eight hours approximately until they moved forward with the rescue operation.

Miranda pushed an arm under Andrea's pillow, too tired to concern herself with what was appropriate or not. When Andrea pushed closer into her arms, a soft whimper escaping her lips, Miranda's carefully maintained control failed. She wrapped her arms tight around Andrea, grateful beyond words she was able to hold her, feel her breath and her heartbeat. Miranda pushed the damp, long tresses of hair from Andrea's face, and then traced her full lips with trembling fingertips.


Andy felt safe again. Warm, safe and quite dizzy. The bath had restored her temperature, and cleansed her, at least externally. She refused to let her mind wander to that muddy ditch. Instead she inhaled Miranda's scent, the perfume, the soap, the special combination that made her tremble for an entire different reason.

Miranda pushed Andy's hair back, making it possible for Andy to look up into her beautiful blue eyes. Touching Andy's lips, Miranda seemed to be trembling as much as Andy was. Not sure where the feelings came from, this all overshadowing desire, Andy parted her lips and slid her tongue across two of Miranda's fingertips.

Miranda's eyes widened, and gasping she bent over Andy kissed her. Miranda. Was kissing. Her. This completely strange idea left Andy so aroused and breathless, all she could do was cling to Miranda. The kiss was soft, their lips barely touching as their breaths mingled. Andy lost all thought of why, or even how. She wanted only to feel Miranda's hands on her body, and her lips pressed against her own. This soft kiss was not nearly enough. She needed to feel alive. Andy wanted to know without a shadow of a doubt that she was live, that blood thundered through her veins with every heartbeat. Right now, right here, it seemed only attainable by Miranda's touch. Eager to taste more of Miranda's lips, Andy dug her fingers into Miranda's silver locks, pushing them tighter together. She tilted her head more, opening her mouth.

A growl emanated from Miranda, from deep inside her throat, and she slipped her tongue into Andy's mouth. Exploring, their tongue tasted their counterpart, over and over. Andy had never kissed anyone with this passion, or experienced such arousal. Her nipples hardened and moisture gathered between her legs. She ached for more, more caresses, more kisses, more of Miranda.

"This is insane." Miranda breathed against Andy's lips. "This is pure insanity. I just can't leave you be. I just can't."

"I don't want you to."

"What?" Blinking, Miranda looked down at Andy, suddenly pulling back.

"I don't want you to leave me be." Andy realized that Miranda must have misunderstood at first. "I need you, Miranda. I need this." To her relief, Miranda relaxed against her and pressed her lips against Andy's.


Miranda's nightgown had ridden up during their heated embrace. She found Andrea intoxicating, her taste so fresh, so soft and new. Miranda had never kissed a woman before, only polite air kisses at the most. It was different, softer, and in a strange way, so much more passionate and sensual.

Then she felt Andrea's hand on her leg, sliding up on the outside of her thigh. Barely touching her, just with very careful fingertips, Andrea caressed up and down, up and down. Miranda moaned into the kiss. Needing to breathe, she slid her lips down Andrea's jawline, nuzzling and kissing her way towards Andrea's delicate ear. Miranda pressed her lips against the spot on Andrea's neck that fluttered wildly with each beat of her heart.

"Miranda!" Andrea shifted restlessly. "You…what are you doing to me?"

"To you?" Miranda gasped for air. "You're the one…setting me on fire."

"How can this be?" Andrea moved, and suddenly Miranda found herself on her back with Andrea half on top of her. A very naked Andrea. "How can this happen? All I can think of—" She bent to kiss Miranda on the lips. "—is to kiss you, hold you."

Miranda slid her hands down Andrea's back, reveling in the feeling of the smooth, warm skin. When she reached Andrea's rounded buttocks, she was about to yank her hands back, but Andrea's heartfelt moan stopped her.

"May I?" Miranda asked politely, her hands trembling.

"God, yes. Please."

Miranda squeezed gently the generous curve of Andrea's bottom. The silky smooth skin felt wonderful to touch and when her fingers dipped in between, almost accidental, Andrea whimpered and arched against Miranda's hip. Her squirming movements sent tingles throughout Miranda's body.

"You talk about fire," Miranda murmured. "Want me to put the fire out for you, Andrea?"

"Yes." The answer came so readily, Miranda was sure Andrea had not quite understood the question.

"Am I to understand you want me to make love to you?"

"Yes!" Teary-eyed, Andrea undulated, looking unaware at how hard she pressed herself against Miranda. "Please. I need you, Miranda."

The heartfelt plea, so without pretense or deception, but instead so honest, struck Miranda square in the chest. "Then you will just have to trust me." She was so aroused, Miranda had to calm herself, if she was going to be of any use to Andrea.

Miranda kissed Andrea, this time with equal parts tenderness and passion. Her own libido simmered, but she knew that part could wait. Somehow, this was now all about Andrea. Miranda suspected that Andrea was either a virgin, or very inexperienced, and she wanted her to love what they were doing.


Andy found herself on her back again, the covers completely off, and above her, Miranda stood on her knees, pulling her nightgown all the way off. Andy stared. She had never seen anyone so beautiful before. In the muted light, Miranda appeared as a forest creature, a spirit so enchanting, all Andy could do was to reach for this vision and hope she wasn't dreaming.

Slowly, Miranda lowered herself down, kissing a trail of slow, hot kisses down Andy's chest. Eventually her mouth was on one of Andy's breasts, sucking her aching nipple into the hot, moist cavity. Nibbling, sucking, whatever she did, Andy couldn't remain quiet. She groaned and pushed both hands into Miranda's hair, holding her closer. Miranda still slipped easily over to Andy's other breast.

"Oh, so good, so good." Andy breathed hard. "You make me feel…alive…"

"You are. You're alive and you're here. Where you belong. With me." Miranda spoke harshly, but her smoldering eyes locked on Andy spoke of an overwhelming tenderness. She reached down and nudged Andy's legs apart. Gently, careful fingers explored Andy's drenched folds, and she willingly allowed it, loved it, craved it. The yearning was bordering on pain.

"It hurts, Miranda," Andy whimpered, trying to explain.

"What hurts?" Miranda stilled her hand, looking concerned.

"Don't stop!" Close to panic, Andy pushed her pelvis up, trying to force Miranda's hand closer again.

"Oh, that hurts." Miranda smiled the most gentle smile, transforming her cool beauty. "Well, then. I can help with that." Long fingers slid around the tender ridge of nerves, the part that hurt the most, massaging it with perfect pressure.

Andy felt convulsions begin in her lower abdomen, pierce her thighs and her sex.

"Ah!" Throwing her head back, Andy felt Miranda close her mouth around one of her breasts. This sent a new river of pleasure through her entire body and Andy bucked, unable to stop her body's reaction. She wrapped her arms around Miranda, needing her close, skin on skin. Andy felt as if she'd dislodge from herself, and having Miranda hold on to her, to really feel her, grounded her in the moment.

"Goodness, you're so responsive, so utterly wonderful," Miranda whispered in Andy's ear. "Who would've thought you'd want me this much?"

"I did." Andy gasped. "I do."

"Then show me." Miranda took Andy's right hand and pushed it down between her thighs. Hot and wet, Miranda's center felt much like Andy's. She mimicked how Miranda had touched her, and Miranda helped by undulating into Andy's hand.

"Go…inside…oh my God."

Andy found Miranda's entrance and slipped two fingers inside. Immediately she felt Miranda's inner walls squeeze her, welcome her, and suddenly Miranda fell on top of her. Now it was her turn to convulse and moan as she pressed her face against Andy's neck. Andy turned her head and found Miranda's lips, kissing her tenderly. "Was that good?"

"That was…good."

Miranda slid off Andy, but only far enough to catch the bedcovers before they fell off the bed. She covered them both and then wrapped her arms around Andy, one arm under the pillows, like she had before the passion overtook them.

"You think you can sleep again?" Miranda kissed the back of Andy's head.

"Yes. Promise you'll wake me when you go up? I don't want to wake up alone." Andy hoped she didn't sound annoyingly needy. "I mean, not after this."

"Oh, sweet girl." Miranda drew a trembling breath. "I promise."