A/N: Written for the prompt: "unexpected orgasm" ^_^
Andy blew against her bangs and leaned back in her chair. Her arms and shoulders ached, and she stretched against the tension that had accumulated in her back during the long day at the office. It was quarter past ten, and there was no end in sight.
It was a grueling Friday evening after a week full of disasters. Two photo shoots had turned out completely unsatisfactory, and Miranda had driven her staff to pull off complete re-shoots, for only half the previous budget, of course, and the resulting chaos had caused a multitude of cancelled meetings and schedule changes, that Andy still couldn't quite believe she had pulled off.
But she had managed, just like she always did, and although Miranda wasn't known to praise her assistants, she had thanked her four times since Monday. That was a record, Andy knew. Even though their work relationship had reached a new level of camaraderie since Fashion Week in Paris, where, despite painful revelations and disappointments, Andy had remained by her boss' side, Miranda expressing her gratefulness to her, every single day, was definitely special.
Cracking a few vertebrae in her neck, Andy rolled her shoulders and rose from her seat. If she felt this achy, with her body still young and flexible at only twenty-seven, Miranda was most likely in a hellish kind of discomfort. As the first assistant - a post Andy now shared with Emily, her tasks at least still occasionally got her out of the office, having her rush down to the printing department, or meet with the Fashion Director in preparation for a run-through, but Miranda had been behind her desk almost all day long. She hadn't even left for lunch.
Andy walked past the other assistant's empty desk, and approached the doorway to Miranda's office. The two of them were the last ones remaining, the rest of the staff having given up for the day, even with the threat of unemployment breathing down their necks. Miranda was regularly likened to a slave driver, or a drill sergeant, but even she had relented at one point, and had sent everyone else home. Despite her often-voiced belief that people could constantly rise above themselves, if only they pushed hard enough, the white-haired queen of fashion also knew that exhausted staff did not work efficiently.
Miranda was engrossed in the words on her laptop screen, fingers flying over the keyboard as she most likely put the finishing touches to her Letter from the Editor. She didn't appear to notice Andy leaning against the door, watching her, so the latter remained quiet and drank in the focused woman.
Studying Miranda in those unguarded moments of brilliance was one of Andy's secret pleasures. She could almost watch the cogs turn in the older woman's head, the inner genius steering her words, or guiding eyes to flaws on mock-ups or drawings. It had been this very image of perfection, this glimpse of someone almost super human at their very best, that had convinced Andy a few months into her employ at the magazine that fashion was so much more than a superficial world of glitter and ridiculously expensive rags.
She had begun to view everything with different eyes, a fact that had changed her beliefs and, subsequently, her personality which had been cause for her former boyfriend, as well as their mutual friends, to turn their backs on her.
As she stood on the flawless carpet, eyes lingering on Miranda's neck and shoulders, and how they flexed with each change the older woman felt compelled to make on the screen, Andy allowed her heart to push free from the shackles she had placed around it as a means of self-preservation. She didn't indulge often, but Miranda was so beautiful in the dimmed office lights, and quiet moments like these were rare. Permitting herself to fully feel the overwhelming crush on her boss was dangerous, and Andy knew that she would face a harsh, lonely night when she would finally make it home.
"Are you just going to stand there, Andrea?" Miranda suddenly spoke without looking up, her voice very soft.
Andy knew that stammering an apology would only reveal that she felt guilty about staring, and besides, Miranda didn't care much for idle blabbering. So instead, Andy cleared her throat and asked, "would you like a coffee, or a tea?"
At this Miranda looked up, and despite her typically flawless and beautiful face, Andy saw how tired she must be. There was a small pursing of lips, but rather from contemplation than anger, and Miranda swept her eyes up and down Andy's form, as she often did when she was mulling over an answer while in Andy's presence.
"Hmmm, a tea would be nice, actually."
Realising that it was the first time she had heard Miranda say the word 'nice', and thoroughly loving the homey and comfortable sound of it, Andy managed to transform the giddy flutter in her chest into a friendly smile and nodded.
She turned to go, her hand lingering on the door frame, when Miranda added, "Andrea," her gaze had already returned to the laptop screen, but she shifted in her chair, indicating a slight unease about what she was about say. "Add a spoonful of honey."
Nothing much surprised Andy anymore when it came to Miranda, at least not when it came to her talents and skills, her firmness in the office, or the often cruel, yet rather witty insults she threw at the heads of incompetent staff. Being asked for honey in her tea, however, was something Andy truly had not expected. She knew she was gaping when Miranda raised an eyebrow and briefly looked at her over the rim of her glasses.
The typical term of dismissal was barely a whisper, and if Andy hadn't been so blown away by the request, she would have noticed the faint blush on Miranda's cheeks. She shook herself and murmured a quick 'Yes, Miranda', before rushing through the assistants area and into the office kitchen.
While the water was boiling she made a frantic search for honey, rummaging in the cabinets as quietly as possible, but just as expected, the sticky, sugary substance was of course not to be found in the vicinity of a fashion magazine.
"Top shelf on the right. Behind the vase," came the editor's disembodied voice.
Andy stopped dead in her tracks. Had Miranda just revealed to her the hidden location of honey in the Runway office kitchen? She hesitantly turned around and reached for the cabinet door on the corner, and sure enough, there was a blue, crystal vase on the very top shelf. She carefully pushed it aside, and immediately recognised the bear-shaped bottle. When she pulled it down, she could see that it was half empty, and the same fluffy feeling that had encased her heart when Miranda had said 'nice', now threatened to overwhelm her whole body.
Miranda was hiding bear-shaped honey bottles in the office! Andy grinned so hard that her cheeks burned.
Fighting the urge to hum random, silly melodies, she poured the steaming water into the porcelain cup and added a bag of her own stash of organic rooibos tea. She had discovered yet another endearing and tenderly human trait in Miranda, and it only fed her infatuation, which she had to admit, had surpassed the mere level of 'crush' months ago.
Careful not to use too much, she measured the honey with utmost concentration, before stirring gently with the spoon and picking up cup and saucer and making her way back to Miranda.
"Here you go," she said quietly, when she set the cup onto the glass surface of the editor's desk.
There it was again. Number five this week.
Andy found it increasingly hard not to reach out and pull Miranda into a hug. Of course that would be highly inappropriate, and everyone who knew Miranda would declare Andy insane for even contemplating cuddling with the Dragon Lady, who was known for anything but for possessing a gentle spirit. Yet, the way Miranda seemed to tentatively reach out to her, pulled at her heart strings.
"Is there anything else?" She asked, silently pleading for whatever inane request Miranda could think of.
The sound of the spoon sliding against porcelain echoed through the silence while the editor looked down into the hot beverage, eyes seemingly lost in the rising steam. Andy waited patiently, but neither request, nor dismissal came.
After a few moments, Miranda removed the spoon and slowly brought it to her mouth. Andy watched how those perfectly-shaped lips, which she had dreamt about so many times, closed around the metal, and when Miranda lowered her eye lids, savouring the sweet flavour with an almost inaudible moan, Andy's hands rolled into fists at her sides.
She had seen Miranda angry, plotting, slightly amused, endeared by her daughters, as well as heart-broken and almost defeated, but this was the very first time Andy saw her in bliss, and it did so many overwhelming things to her abdomen, specifically the area just below her navel, that she had to bite her lips and count to ten in her head.
If she hyperventilated now, Miranda would likely figure out the direction of her thoughts, and that would definitely get her fired.
The spoon was placed delicately onto the saucer, and Miranda reached for the cup to take a slow, drawn-out sip, that was accompanied by the sweetest humming.
Andy could no longer wait for dismissal, and she abruptly spun on her heels and hurried back into the outer office. She didn't dare breathe until she was safely back in her chair, her fingers gripping tightly onto the edge of her desk.
Work. She needed to concentrate on work. She clicked through her emails, frantically searching for something that could pull her mind away from Miranda's softened expression, or the fantasy of what her lips would feel like against her skin. Rubbing her temples she tried to focus on the next week's schedule, but the days bled into each other on her screen.
Suddenly Andy heard the muffled steps of Miranda's heels on the carpet, and a second later the editor swept regally from her office, carrying the empty tea cup. Andy should have jumped up, taken the dirty dish from her boss' hands, but she sat frozen to her seat, her thighs clenching together in anticipation as the editor walked around her. No doubt, Miranda would comment on her having to clean up her own desk.
When Miranda's heels clacked over the kitchen tiles Andy defensively pulled up her shoulders. The cup was placed in the sink, and Miranda emerged with a few strides, her gait stopping a few inches behind Andy's chair.
Adrenaline had Andy's heart racing. In a perverse kind of way, she was eagerly awaiting whatever insult Miranda had on the tip of her tongue. The muscles in her back and shoulders burned from the apprehension, and she sat so rigidly, she almost had to cry from the strain.
Suddenly the lightest of touches fluttered against the nape of her neck, and Andy froze.
"Andrea, you're so tense," Miranda whispered, and Andy felt warm fingers slowly stroke across her skin.
She couldn't speak, couldn't move. Miranda was touching her! No, not touching, caressing!
The fingers slowly trailed across the collar of Andy's blouse, where a second hand joined in, and both palms began to slide out and toward Andy's shoulders. The heat of the other woman easily burned through the silk garment, and Andy tensed at the tell-tale trickle between her legs.
This is so not happening! I must have fallen asleep behind my desk. Wake up Andy! Wake up!
Thumbs gently traced her shoulder blades, and suddenly Miranda's sweet voice was much too close, her breath crawling over Andy's skin, raising the little hairs on the back of her neck.
"Shhh, it's okay. Just breathe."
Andy inhaled sharply through her nose, shoulders lifting, pushing against Miranda's hands.
"Relax, Andrea. I'm not going to hurt you."
That would have sounded more reassuring, if Miranda's proximity alone didn't already set Andy's body on fire, burning through her with an almost painful agony. She tried with every ounce of power left inside of her to fight off the arousal. Whatever kindness Miranda was showing her right now, it definitely did not deserve her perverted responses. She squeezed her eyes shut and exhaled through clenched teeth.
It was no use.
The way Miranda's hands glided so sweetly over her back quickly ruined Andy's underwear. She was absolutely unprepared for the sensations of the often harsh Snow Queen touching her so incredibly gently. In essence it was nothing but a harmless back rub; Miranda was not doing anything inappropriate. Andy, however, was burning up.
"Hmmm, you're full of knots, Andrea," Miranda hummed close to her ear. "Do I work you too hard?"
Miranda's thumbs were gliding up and down her neck, rubbing against the aching muscles with a bit of pressure now, pausing at spots where the tension had accumulated.
Andy could no longer hold back a moan and her head buzzed from the unusually throaty sound.
"That's it, Andrea. Let go," came the whisper, now definitely right behind her ear, as Miranda's hot breath left a damp spot just below Andy's earlobe.
When Miranda's fingertips curled over Andy's shoulders and slipped below her collar bones to massage the tight muscles above her breasts, Andy jerked forward with a shudder. She was so close! How could she be this close?
She needed to get away. If Miranda did not stop touching her right now, she'd... she'd...
"Shhh, I told you to relax Andrea."
Miranda leaned closer and tenderly encircled Andy's shoulders in a loose embrace, her cheek resting against Andy's throat, where she could probably feel the assistant's rapid pulse. Andy was engulfed by Miranda's scent, so rich and unique, her smooth skin burning against her neck, the feeling of soft silver hair tickling her face.
"Oh god... Miranda..."
She could no longer pretend this wasn't affecting her the way it was. Andy had never been this turned on and so ready to explode from another person's embrace alone.
"Don't hold back anymore, Andrea."
And then Miranda slipped her hands down and into Andy's bra, palms hot against her breasts, fingers quickly seeking out stiffened nipples.
"Oh..." Andy's moan of surprise roused a pleased growl from Miranda, and suddenly Andy was hit by the possibility that for Miranda the touches had been just as sexual as they had been to her.
"Darling," Miranda breathed hotly against her skin. "You feel exquisite."
Andy knew she had to be dreaming. There was no way Miranda was seducing her. Yet, the electricity that shot through her when Miranda rolled her nipples between the pads of her thumbs and index fingers, felt so utterly real that she rolled her hips, chasing the faint friction of her underwear against her clit.
Miranda's tongue darted out, licking below Andy's jaw bone and causing a wave of shudders to wash over her.
"Darling," Miranda hugged her tightly, lips brushing against her skin. "Open your legs."
Andy had no idea how she managed to still follow orders in her current state, but she complied, her slacks sticking to her thighs from sweat and leaked arousal. She should have felt embarrassed, but then Miranda let go of her right breast and slowly slipped her hand down, over her belly and right between her legs, Andy lost all sense of reason.
Miranda echoed her gasp when she cupped her through her pants, the searing heat no doubt surprising the older woman.
Andy bucked against her, the touch nowhere near as intimate as she had always dreamed about, but it was more than enough. She was locked tightly in Miranda's arms, her scent everywhere, her voice murmuring sweet nothings as Andy undulated against her palm. Both of them breathed heavily, their panting becoming rhythmic moans that sounded so odd in the otherwise silent office.
"I've wanted to do this for so long," Miranda breathed, her left hand firmly massaging Andy's breast while she increased the pressure between her legs.
"Oh yesss..." it was uttered with such a sensual groan that tremors raced down Andy's spine, and suddenly her world exploded into a series of blinding lights. She writhed in her chair, her fingers digging into the desk, while Miranda held her tightly. She ground forward, riding each overwhelming wave rather helplessly, while Miranda whispered encouragements and moaned her approval. At some point Andy realised that she had cried out, and once her body slowly calmed down, a severe burning of embarrassment replaced the remnants of pleasure.
"Oh god... Miranda..."
"Hmmm," the editor smiled into her neck. "Feel better now?"
Miranda placed a kiss on her cheek and slowly withdrew her arms, leaving her cold and lonely.
Andy sheepishly turned around in her chair to finally look at the older woman, but when she saw her, it took her breath away. Miranda's face was flushed, a fine sheer of sweat coating her skin. Her mouth was parted, what was left of her lip stick, smeared, and her chest heaved rapidly. She was definitely not unaffected.
Andy reached for her, but Miranda was already moving forward and leaned down, grabbing Andy's face with both hands and pulling her up for a passionate kiss. Their tongues met, gently at first, but quickly their movements roughened and Miranda's fingers dug sharply into Andy's skull.
"Darling," she panted when they parted. "Come home with me. You still look tense."
The sudden mischief in Miranda's voice taking her by surprise, Andy snorted and pulled her close.
"And I suppose you have some kind of... physical therapy in mind?"
Miranda smiled back, a real, full-blown, happy smile, and she stood and held out her hand.
"Come on. I feel a little stiff as well."
Andy couldn't stop herself from giggling as she linked her fingers with Miranda's.
Her prospects of a frustrated Friday night alone in her empty apartment had quickly been squashed in a rather unexpected, but entirely pleasant way.