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
Summary: When Andy accidentally finds herself on hands and knees in front of Miranda in the office, what will happen if she dares to break the rules?
Breaking the Rules
A MirAndy (Andy/Miranda) fan fiction story by Gun Brooke
Andrea Sachs knew she was toast the moment she lost the grip of the binder. She heard Emily, the first assistant to Miranda Priestly, gasp. Normally Emily would revel in any type of failure on Andy's part, but this was clearly too much even for Emily to gloat at.
The binder went over the desk, barely missed Miranda's sacred Starbucks center-of-the-sun-hot latte, and hit Miranda right across her chest. As if this wasn't enough, the binder opened and let a multitude of developed photos rain over Miranda.
Nigel, Emily, and Jocelyn, along with two nameless interns, stared in horror at the Dragon Lady, then back to Andy, only to return to Miranda. No doubt it was like watching a horrible car crash on the interstate. You wanted to, but you couldn't look away no matter what.
Andy knew was history. She might as well skip the apologizing and go straight back to her desk and pack up her things and call Human Resources herself. Still, her manners instilled in her by her mother, propelled her forward. "I'm so sorry, Miranda."
"We are clearly not going to accomplish anything this afternoon since we won't have access to the photos." Miranda's low, just above a whisper, voice made them all flinch. Andy was about to faint. The lower Miranda spoke, the more furious she was. "Everybody go back to whatever you do when you're not wasting my time."
Not sure what to do, Andy remained standing as the other's nudged her in their eagerness to escape.
"What are you waiting for?" Miranda motioned at the floor around her. "Pick them up."
"Yes, Miranda. I'm sor—"
"And do I like repetitiousness? No."
Andy stopped herself from apologizing for saying sorry. She knelt on the floor and began gathering the pictures of the stunning women in swimwear. She knew for a fact there were seventy-five photos, as she had sorted them herself. She had used all the hours when she'd waited for the 'Book' last night to sort the photos into categories of height, weight, hair color, ethnicity. This had been a labor of love in a sense, and she had looked forward to see if Miranda would notice, and if she'd acknowledge Andy's efforts. And boy did she ever. Andy knew it was silly, and she bit down hard on the inside of her cheek to keep from tearing up over this mishap. If she was lucky, she got to keep her job, if she wasn't; she'd be unemployed and alone with a much too expensive rent she'd be unable to pay.
After retrieving all the photos from the floor that she could reach, Andy rounded the desk on her knees. She swallowed hard. If she thought she had been in trouble before, she was screwed now. A few photos lay around the chair, within reach, but several were around Miranda's four inch heels and even more on the other side of the chair, between Miranda and the wall. You just didn't ask Miranda to scoot over. Nor did you ask her to vacate her room while you tidied up your mess. Panic was stirring and Andy stared helplessly at the photos.
Why couldn't there be a little fire alarm, or the sprinklers go off, or…something? But no, of course not. Andy dared to glance up at Miranda. Surely she must know that she was in the way? If she did, she had decided on putting Andy through hell just as a punishment. A deep breath later, Andy wormed her hand in between Miranda and her desk, successfully reaching the closest two photos. She tucked them under her arm and reached for the next one. Extending her arm, albeit in an awkward angle, went well, but then Miranda shifted in her chair and moved her legs. Andy pressed her arm against the leg of the desk, but there were still only an eighth of an inch to maneuver. No way to withdraw.
Andy could actually feel the warmth radiating off Miranda's stocking clad calf. Slender, perfect, the tan stocking showed every flawless part of Miranda's right calf. Knowing she was a dead woman if she happened to touch any part of Miranda, or look higher up than her calf, Andy was close to hyperventilating.
"Don't dawdle, Andrea. I can't have you resting down there all day." Was that amusement in Miranda's voice? No, it was unadulterated viciousness.
Pressing very carefully at the desk leg, Andy managed to get her fingertips on two more pictures. She angled her neck and saw two more in there, on the other side of Miranda's feet. She sighed quietly, but drawing another deep breath only heightened her awareness of the alluring scent Miranda wore. Andy crawled around the chair and over on the other side. Pressing herself between Miranda and the narrow shelf, she picked up five more photos. Now there were only the last two and…glancing up, she saw three photos that were wedged in between Miranda and her armrest. Surely Miranda could be normal for once and just hand them to her. But no. Of course not.
Andy pushed her hand in next to the chair and snagged the two photos. She began pulling them back when the damn phone rang. "Miranda, I have Patrick."
Miranda swiveled and lifted the receiver above Andy's head. Had she reacted faster, Andy would have been able to pull her arm free, but now she was trapped. Her left arm was between Miranda's legs and the desk, and if that wasn't bad enough, Miranda's knees were just beneath Andy's chin.
"Patrick, mon cher," Miranda began, her eyes steely blue as they gazed down at the trapped Andy.
What was she doing? Andy had no idea, but something inside her clicked. It was a test. She wasn't sure how, or why, but she knew this was a test. No matter what, she was going to act with courage, and if she had to break a few rules, Andy would do it. She was pretty much screwed as it was, so what had she left to lose? Not much.
Without showing any of her inner trepidation, Andy pulled her arm toward her, gracing Miranda's legs in the process. Miranda's eyes widened, but she was on the phone with Demarchelier, and by no means would Miranda give away that anything was amiss. Andy knew that much. Instead, Andy tucked the photos together with the ones under her right arms, and pushed her left in between Miranda's thigh and the armrest, gently pulling at the ones that had wedged themselves there.
"Thank you, Patrick. We'll talk soon. Au revoir." Miranda hung up and gazed down at Andy, at her hand, and the photos. "Found them all?"
"Unless you are sitting on any of them," Andy heard herself say.
Miranda pressed her lips into a fine line, but Andy had a feeling this was so she wouldn't smile, even a little bit. "Hand them over then and resume your normal duties."
"Yes, Miranda." Andy only had one problem left. She refused to crawl around Miranda's chair in order to stand up. No more crawling. She gave Miranda the photos and grabbed ahold of the armrest and the desk and hauled herself up. This put her so close to Miranda that her breasts actually touched Miranda's cheek, if only for a second.
Suddenly flustered, and no doubt furious, Miranda froze. Andy walked around the chair and left her without a word. Sitting down at her desk, she looked over at Emily who's eyes were huge with terror-filled fascination.
"Don't ask," Andy mouthed.
"I won't," Emily mouthed back.
Andy was grateful when the phones started ringing again, demanding people that she could brush of in her usual polite way. She kept an impeccable list of everyone who wanted to talk to Miranda and what it concerned. Sooner or later Miranda would have to leave her office and Andy could give it to her. There was no chance in hell Andy would enter the Dragon's lair anymore today. She had a strong feeling that Miranda wasn't' too keen on summoning her either.
At 5 PM, Emily turned off her computer and stood. "I'm sorry," she whispered, actually looking like she meant it, "but I can't stay longer tonight. I have plans."
"Don't worry. Just go have fun." Andy hoped that Miranda would be leaving soon too. Normally she tried to be home early on Fridays. "See you on Monday." Unless I do something to get me fired—again.
Emily left and Andy worked on her backlog of emails while listening carefully for sounds from Miranda. At 7 PM, Andy finally heard Miranda move about. "Coat. Purse."
Andy rose and retrieved Miranda's cashmere coat and Prada purse. She held the coat up for Miranda and wondered why her boss took her good time putting it on. When Miranda reached back to adjust the collar, she managed to slide her hands slowly across Andy's. Not about to let on that she noticed, Andy handed over the purse with a polite smile. "Have a good weekend, Miranda."
"Oh, don't worry. You can tell me again tonight when you bring the 'Book'. That and just what you were trying to do earlier when I was on the phone with Demarchelier. I'm sure your explanation will be…entertaining."
Andy knew now that she was not just toast, she was barbecued, deep fried, and tossed down a volcano.
"See you later, Andrea." Miranda strode out of the office, her heels clacking against the marble. Clack-clack-clack. Like a ticking time-bomb.
Andy sat in the Mercedes; Miranda's dry-cleaning hanging on a hook to her left, the 'Book' on her left. Outside, snow was falling and she guessed it looked pretty. It was starting to really come down though, and she knew she was not dressed warm enough.
Roy, Miranda's driver, pulled up at the townhouse. "Miranda told me you wouldn't need me anymore tonight, so I guess I'll see you on Monday?"
What? No ride home in this weather? Oh. Great. Andy knew better than to put Roy on the spot. Miranda's orders were the law. "Have a great weekend, Roy. Say hi to the Mrs."
"Will do. Bye."
Roy drove off and Andy sighed as she hefted the dry-cleaning and carefully maneuvered among the drifts of snow and climbed the steps to the front door. She tucked the 'Book' under her left arm and felt for the key in her pocket, but her fingers were so cold already, she couldn't get a grip on it.
Suddenly the door opened and Andy flinched, felt herself slip and no doubt would have fallen if Miranda hadn't yanked her forward by a steady grip of her lapels.
"Are you trying to kill yourself too today?"
"S-s-sorry. It's cold and—"
"Oh, for heaven's sake. Get inside before you bore me to tears with your explanations." Miranda took a step back and Andy stumbled inside. She didn't dare look at her boss, but opened the closet and hung the dry-cleaning where they should go. Only when she was done and stepped out in the hallway again, did Andy realize that she'd dragged melting snow all over the hardwood floor.
"Damn," she muttered. "I can't do anything right today."
"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Miranda said, folding her arms over her chest. "You managed to perform one thing beyond my expectations, that's more than some people do after all."
Andy held out the 'Book' toward Miranda, but she made no attempt to accept it. Feeling awkward, as well as deep frozen, Andy placed the 'Book' on the dresser outside the closet. "Goodnight, Miranda." She took one step toward the front door when Miranda's voice stopped her.
"Not so fast. You don't have a driver waiting, you're not dressed to brave the elements, and you have yet to explain your actions."
Andy slowly turned around. "You told Roy to leave me here."
"So I'd be forced to stay until I'd satisfied your curiosity."
"Interesting choice of words."
Andy sighed. "So what do you want to know, Miranda?"
"Not here. I'm not going to listen to a lengthy explanation standing up. Get rid of your coat and shoes and join me in the upstairs office." Miranda turned and walked up the stairs, and Andy could just stare at the vision of the most beautiful woman on the planet. Miranda wore designer sportswear, and she looked great. Swallowing hard, Andy kicked her shoes off and hung her coat over the railing of the stairs. Time to join the Dragon in her very private lair.
To Andy's surprise, Miranda handed her a glass of hot spiced wine. "Have a seat. No here beside me on the couch. This will warm you up."
Andy sat down; glad that her shaking legs weren't too obvious anymore. "Thank you." Sipping it, Andy couldn't help but moan and close her eyes. It was really what she needed. She sipped it again before directing her attention back at Miranda. And nearly spewed the wine out her nose at the expression on Miranda's face. Flushed, lips parted, and with her eyes the darkest blue Andy had ever seen them, Miranda stared back at Andy.
"Go ahead." Miranda's voice was huskier than normal. "Tell me, why all of a sudden, you dared to touch me."
"You were testing me." Andy spoke curtly. "You were making it harder for me and I couldn't figure out why. I decided that you were testing me and thought I can't figure out why you left me no choice but…but…to touch you?" Andy blinked. Was that it? She must be crazy, Andy thought. No doubt the stressful job at Runway had sent her over the deep end. Why would Miranda want Andy to touch her? And why like that?
"It's quite an education to witness the wheels turning in that head of yours." Miranda sipped her wine. "I can practically hear them turning, I think."
"Why?" Andy realized that Miranda hadn't contradicted her. "You had me cornered by the desk. You knew, turning like that, I couldn't move without touching you. You could've given me the photos that were wedged next to you against the armrest, and yet you waited until I touched you when grabbing them. I don't get it, but I'm right, aren't I?"
The simple word, spoken so easily, took Andy's breath away. "You know how I feel about you. You have to. Nobody can be so visually gifted as you, Miranda, and not see what's right under your nose." Andy wasn't sure where the courage to speak freely came from. "You know and you were testing my resolve. What I can't figure out is… did I pass…or did I fail?" Still feeling cold, Andy shivered. "Am I still going to find myself out of a job on Monday?"
"That depends." Miranda smiled and placed her wine glass on the side table. She shifted, moving close enough for their knees to touch. She took Andy's glass and placed it next to hers. "Andrea, yes, I've been aware of how you feel for several months. I'm sure you realize that I've seen assistants develop crushes before, our dear Emily used to be one of them. I told myself you were going through the same phase, but…there were differences. You didn't come to Runway because you loved fashion. You had also never heard of me. Though you're dressing better these days, you have never gushed like so many of those other assistants. Instead, your…" Miranda looked a bit flustered again as she waved her hand, "…infatuation, for lack of a better word, only grew, didn't it? What was the strangest thing of all, and what changed everything, was how you pulled me in."
Andy couldn't breathe. Either Miranda was playing some seriously fucked up mind-game, or she was about to change Andy's world forever. "How in God's name did I ever do that?" Andy's hands shook and she was just about to sit on them when Miranda took then in hers.
"I don't know. Can you tell exactly how or when you began see me as someone other than your boss?"
"Yes and no. I can tell you when my image of you changed, but you were always the boss, no matter what."
"When?" Miranda looked surprised.
"In Paris. When you told me I didn't have to go fetch Stephen. That I was fetching…God, that sounded self-absorbed." Andy smiled wryly, clinging to Miranda's soft hands. "I saw you, and for a moment, I told myself that you saw me."
"I think I did, but I didn't love you then."
It was official. Andy wasn't going over the deep end. She was already over it. She had plummeted into the abyss and was hearing things. "What?" she whispered.
"I didn't love you then."
Miranda pulled Andy closer. "And now I do." She enunciated the words carefully, as if Andy's hearing was impaired.
"Oh." Andy raised her arm and wrapped it around Miranda's neck. The famous scent she wore wrapped around Andy, pulled her in. "I—I love you too. I have—for—a—long t-time…" Mortified, Andy was crying now. This had not been even remotely plausible for her to dream of. She had loved Miranda Priestly for a year, knowing it was futile, and her heart had broken a little every day.
"Hush. Silly girl. I love you." Was Miranda crying too? Andy glanced at her. Yes, she was, a little.
"And what changed today?" Andy asked, wiping at Miranda's tears.
"You came into the office, I looked up at you before you had time to get your normal mask on, and I saw it in your eyes. Your crush was no crush. I saw the love and I knew if I challenged you somehow and you responded in kind… we might have a chance." Miranda smiled and kissed Andy's lips lightly. "Little did I know you'd literally throw the book at me, but it provided me with a chance to 'test' you. You looked me straight in the eye and pushed your hand along my thigh. So brave. Nobody touches the Dragon. It's the rule. Yet you did, Andrea, and it may sound certifiable, but that's when I knew."
Andy knew there might be a logic in there somewhere, in what Miranda told her, but all she really cared about was that Miranda had told Andy she loved her.
"You said, it depends." Andy kissed Miranda's neck. "When I asked if I had a job on Monday."
"Now that we both know, I think it's time for you to use the well-deserved glowing review I've already written for you, to find your dream job as a journalist." Miranda kissed Andy's forehead. "I can't have you in my office after your two-week notice, when we love each other like this."
"Like this?" Andy frowned. What did Miranda mean by that?
"Like this." Miranda kissed Andy again on the lips, parting them and inviting her tongue to play. "Like this." She gently cupped Andy's breast, making both of them moan. "Like this." Miranda took one of Andy's hands and pushed it under her shirt. "And like this." She hugged Andy hard, burying her face in her hair. "You see?"
"Yes." Andy reveled in the feeling of Miranda, of her voice, her scent, and her touch. She stroked the soft mound that was Miranda's breast, and used her other hand to caress her back. "I see. It breaks all the rules."