Disclaimer: Fox and Paramount own the rights to the movie and tv-show respectively. I only play with them for fun, and no copyright infringement is ever intended.
Fandoms: The Devil Wears Prada

Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Andy/Miranda

Prompt: Feb 4, 2012 by mxrolkr on the DWP community on LiveJournal. "Once is an occurrence, Twice is a pattern, Three times...is a problem."

Summary: Touching someone once is indeed an occurrence, or should be. Andy is in the car with Miranda and unlikely things happen. Touching someone a second time, is a pattern, yes? How can you blame such a thing on a fork? Touching someone a third time, can be a problem, if it's the last time. But what if it is really the first. Does this saying start all over again?

A/N: This story is in three parts and it's ready to go up, I just need to make sure it's as proofread as I can manage. Part 2 should be up tomorrow (Feb 7).


A MirAndy A/U fan fiction

By Gun Brooke

Once... is an occurrence…

"Andrea, be ready to go in ten minutes." Miranda spoke in her trademark soft voice from her office. Like many times before, Andy was amazed how well that voice carried through the bustle of the busy office. People were always on the move, with or without clothes racks.

"Yes, Miranda." Andy busied herself fetching their coats and purses, and made sure she had her phone, different notebooks, and several pens. She had once tried taking notes on and iPad, which was doomed to fail. Regular pen and paper was the only failsafe method to keep up with Miranda and least likely to create problems.

Eight minutes later, Miranda strode toward the elevator, Andy hurrying behind her. Emily, the other assistant, had not looked too disappointed to be left alone in the office. Miranda had sent her on one mission after another among the different brand stores, and she was no doubt looking forward to taking off her Jimmy Choos and merely man the phones.

The elevator arrived just as Miranda and Andy approached. Stepping inside, Miranda motioned with her chin for Andy to join her, something that made the young woman manning Runway's front desk to gasp out loud. Andy had gone with her in different elevators despite Miranda's well known dislike for sharing. Just not at Elias-Clarke, until today.

The ride down was uneventful and quiet, Andy had half expected the elevator to get stuck between two floors or even plummet to the ground. Neither happened and she exited it and walked behind Miranda to the silver Mercedes. Roy, Miranda's perpetual driver, held up the door for their boss, and Andy scurried around the car and jumped inside.

Miranda gave the name of an Italian restaurant, and the Mercedes rolled into the dense traffic. "It might take us a little longer than normal to get there, Ms. Priestly, " Roy said. "There's a water leak on—"

"Just get us there." Miranda sighed. "How hard can it be to turn off a simple faucet?"

Andy knew better than to point out that a broken pipe is more complicated than that.

They sat in silence, the traffic around them reduced to a faint hum. Andy took the opportunity to go through some of Miranda's earlier notes and was glad to see she was pretty much on top of things. That said, Miranda would no doubt find a zillion things more for her to do before the day was over, but so far so good.

A muted sigh made Andy turn her head. Miranda had tipped her head back and closed her eyes. Her right hand lay motionless on her lap, but she used the left one to play with her necklace, pushing the slider back and forth. This chance to watch her boss relax, without Miranda knowing it, was a rare occasion. Andy couldn't remember ever seeing her like this.

Miranda sighed again. Suddenly she ran the tip of her tongue over her lips, twice. Andy bit down hard to not moan at the unexpected display of such sensuality. To her surprise, Andy's nipples hardened at the sight, and she looked down at herself to make sure it didn't show. Reassured, Andy glanced over at Miranda again, and now she had to clench her thighs.

Miranda actually smiled. Very faintly, and obviously not at Andy, but she definitely played with her necklace, right above her cleavage, for heaven's sake, and she licked her lips and smiled. What the hell was going on? Andy couldn't have looked away if someone offered to pay her.

The car hit a pothole, or something, and jostled them. Miranda snapped her eyes open and her hand closed around the gold chain of her necklace. It broke and the slider fell off and disappeared into her blouse. Miranda gasped and looked over at Andy who merely stared, her mouth half open.

Miranda's cheeks turned a faint pink, and she looked like she couldn't make up her mind what to do. Andy couldn't blame her.

Pulling at the chain, Miranda handed that over to Andy. "Make sure Tiffany repairs this."

"Of course, Miranda."

Miranda looked uncomfortable and Andy discreetly turned, making sure she faced forward. She stared at the privacy screen that were almost all the way up to the celing, trying her very best to not glance sideways no matter how badly she wanted to watch Miranda feel inside her blouse for the slider.

"Damn." The soft curse said with Miranda's cotton-soft voice made Andy forget any such attempts.

"What's wrong?" Damn indeed. Andy had broken one of the rules. Already on her first day at Runway, Emily had told her never, ever to ask Miranda anything.

"I can't find it." Miranda looked flustered and annoyed.

"Can't find—oh. Really?" Andy pinched her own thigh, wondering if that counted as a second question.

"This is ridiculous. Obviously it's there, somewhere." Miranda pressed her lips to a fine line. "And I need to locate it. It's worth 9,000 dollars. Not to mention, it's a priceless heirloom."

Andy knew she had to ask a third time, but she dreaded it. "Can I help?"

Miranda jerked and stared at her with widening eyes. "Excuse me?"

"Help you find it? I mean, not, uhm, like touch, obviously, but your blouse is pretty, well, formfitting, so I might be able to…spot it?" God, she was rambling. Andy kept a polite smile, but she could feel her lips and hands trembling. No doubt, she was blushing as well.

"Very well. How you do propose you do this ocular inspection of me?"

Miranda was agreeing to this? Andy had suggested it, but was certain Miranda would shoot that idea down to crash and incinerate on impact. "You need to remove your coat." Andy spoke with fake certainty.

"Assist me." Miranda had already undone the belt when she tried to find the slider. Now she turned her back on Andy and shrugged out of the coat. Andy took it and gently shook it over the seat in case the elusive slider would be trapped in a fold. No such luck. Andy folded the coat and placed it across the backrest.

Miranda turned to face Andy, looking decidedly uncomfortable as she clasped her hands together. Andy did a quick sweep with her eyes over the lovely off-white blouse. The plunging neckline was enough to make anyone salivate, but Andy pushed such thoughts away. So far she didn't see anything bulge that shouldn't. "Turn a little to your left, please, Miranda."

Miranda inhaled deeply and complied. No little bumps of bulges.

"To the right?" Same thing there.

"I don't think I need to show you my back as it very clearly slipped down my front." Miranda spoke curtly.

"Can it perhaps gotten stuck…I mean, uhm…in your bra?" Andy felt like she was dying, but she had to ask.

"I don't know. I-I tried to check everywhere, but unless I undress completely—" Andy's sudden gasp made Miranda stop talking. "What?"

"Nothing." Oh, God, did Miranda just stutter? Andy could swear on her life she'd never heard Miranda falter in any way, shape or form. This force of nature that was her boss, who tore through life like an irrepressible steamroller, did not stutter. Andy thought fast. If Miranda lost face now, no matter why or how, Andy's life would suck big-time later. She also found the idea of Miranda being vulnerable somehow just wrong. At least being vulnerable in front of her, before Andy had a chance to…to…to somehow clarify that it was okay. Strange as it was, Andy knew without a shadow of a doubt that she wanted Miranda to truly trust her. See her. One way to accomplish this was to be matter-of-fact and not go all drama-queen à la Emily now. "Let's get this over with so you can focus on your meeting, Miranda." Surprised at her own rational tone, Andrea scooted closer. Faking complete calm, after all, faking worked if you did it well enough. No need to alert Miranda what a puddle this was turning Andy into. "Arms up."

"Excuse me?" Miranda glared at her.

"9,000 dollars heirloom, right?"

"Yes." Miranda squinted, looking positively menacing for a moment before sighing as she relented. "By all means." She raised her arms, placing her hands behind her neck, and, dear Lord, this actually made her arch toward Andy. The fabric of her blouse strained over perfectly sized breasts.

Curling her toes, Andy willed her hands to stay dry and steady. She patted down along Miranda's sides first, small movements. The only thing she felt under the fabric was warm, almost hot, skin and the faint trace of a lace bra. No sign of the slider. Next was her stomach. No chance in hell Andy was going to pat her down the same way there. Having been subjected to this in airports, Andy knew the security staff used the back of their hands which was considered less intrusive. She flipped her hands over and ran the back of her fingers over the area, starting an inch below Miranda's breasts. Damn. Nothing. "No luck yet," Andy murmured. She bit her lip before she apologized. She would not take the heat for this. "If I turn my back, you can examine your bra, perhaps?" Andy looked at the slightly flustered Miranda.

"Very well."

Andy turned around again, facing the front of the car. She heard Miranda shift on the seat. Suddenly she gasped. "Oh! Ow."

Ow? Andy turned around without thinking at the pained sound. "Miranda?"

"Damn." Miranda was rubbing furiously at her left trapezius muscle. "Just a cramp."

"That doesn't look very effective." Andy moved in closer. "Here. Allow me." She pushed Miranda's hand away and placed both of hers around the smarting muscle group. Slow and deep, she massaged the painful area. The knots were large and hardly new, she surmised, and Andy suspected that trying to feel around in her bra had proved to be too awkward a position.

"Oh, that hurts." Miranda breathed deeply. "But it's helping. You're not entirely horrible at this."

"Why thank you. I used to massage my mother all the time. Especially since she insisted on baking bread a lot. Very tasty, but it did a number on her shoulders."

"I see." Miranda closed her eyes.

Andy leaned closer to get a firmer grip of the slender shoulders. "This okay?"


Somehow, Andy's eyes strayed and fastened upon the generous cleavage. Suddenly she saw something sparkle further down. Something worth 80,000 dollars most likely. "Uhm. Miranda? I think I see the slider from here." And now she'd be fired for ogling Miranda's breasts. Great.

"Grab it before we lose it again."

We? Andy pursed her lips. "It's rather deep, I mean, down."

"If I try again, my shoulder is going to cramp up on me instantly. I can feel it. Just do it, Andrea."

Miranda had no idea what she asked for. Andy dug deep for courage and something else, perhaps self-restraint? "Okay. Here goes." She pushed her fingers together, trying in vain to avoid touching the soft skin that seemed to hug them. Feeling the slider against her fingertips, Andy gasped as it had wedged in between the bra wire and Miranda's skin. Andy dreaded her actions, but knew Miranda's wrath would supersede everything if she didn't rescue the freakin' heirloom. Her fingertip slid along the entire inside of Miranda's right breasts, pushed it aside, which made Miranda's breath hitch and dig her teeth into her lower lip. Quickly, Andy grabbed the slider, and pulled it out. She withdrew as quickly as she could without seeming impolite, or scared for that matter. "Here you go." Handing over the piece of jewelry, Andy smiled carefully.

Miranda in turn glowered at her, looking flustered. "Good." She took another deep breath. "Thank you."

Andy felt her jaw go slack, but then she closed it immediately. "Uhm. You're welcome." She almost added 'my pleasure', but that would've been too obvious.

"ETA the Italian restaurant in three minutes, Ms. Priestly." Roy's voice came via the speaker.

"When we're in the meeting, I expect you to be able to eat and work at the same time," Miranda said coolly. Clearly the surreal moment of massaging Miranda's shoulders and digging around in her cleavage was over and never to be spoken of. Ever.

"Of course, Miranda." Andy clenched her hands, trying to hold on to the memory of the soft, pale skin. She knew the topic of this anomalous moment would never be raised, but one thing was for sure. Andy would never forget it.