Title: They all didn't see this coming

Pairing: Miranda/Andy

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Author's note: I was inspired to this very short ff by a song from Nadine Khouri, off the Soundtrack from the movie "I can't think straight" ("Hey my baby") and by Michael Bublé's "Sway". the words to those songs are not mine. English still isn't my native language, so I hope I got everything right. A dear friend of mine read over it - she, too, isn't a native speaker, but she's very good at english. I hope we caught every mistake, grammar and spelling likewise...

They must have been seeing each other, Nigel was sure. The way they looked at each other, the way they danced around each other the whole evening. Something in his mind was telling him that there was something between them.

His boss was looking fabulous, as always. And there where this other person, an ex-second assistant he kept in touch with. Andrea Sachs. Now a known journalist, she freelanced, had made herself known enough to be invited to parties such as this was one. Nigel was on his way to being thoroughly drunk and it was only now that he saw how Miranda and Andy did circle each other.

Andy had a small smile on her features as she was talking to someone – wait, was that Christian Thompson? - but it never reached her eyes. And as that smarmy man leaned in to whisper something in her ear, Andy laid her hand on his shoulder and pushed him lightly but firmly away from her.

Nigel turned his eyes away from the scene, searching for Miranda again. But he didn't need to look that far. The editor in chief of Runway wasn't that far away from them anymore and she had a look in her eyes Nigel had never seen.

Subtly, he moved in their direction. Maybe he could catch some of the spoken words over the talking crowd and softly playing music.

And indeed, he could hear them loud and clear, nearly. He tried to process what he was hearing in his nearly drunken state of mind.

"Mr. Thompson" Miranda greeted. Her voice was cold as ice.

"Miranda" the blonde responded and inclined his head slightly. "I was just talking to Andy how nice it is to see her again on this little gathering."

"I see." the editor muttered in her soft voice. Andrea smiled and looked at her.

"How are you, Miranda?" the girl asked her ex-boss.

Small talk, Andy? Nigel thought and nearly chocked on his drink as he heard Miranda response. Since when did Miranda do small talk? If a question like that was asked she usually ignored it. It was that simple.

"I'm fine, thank you, Andréa. And you? How is work going?" And her voice even sounded sincere. Would they talk about something like that if they had been seeing each other? Nigel wasn't so sure any more.

Christian blinked in confusion as he looked from Andy to Miranda.

"I'm fine, too, thanks. Oh, the usual. But it's going well." She smiled that million watt smile Nigel had always liked on her.

They continued like that for a few minutes, totally ignoring Christian, until he cleared his throat.

"Andy" he said with a, what he surely thought, charming smile. "I won't keep you two any longer from catching up. Just wanted to ask if you would care for dinner tomorrow?"

The brunette seemed to think about it, then looked at Miranda before she plastered on a fake smile. One that even Christian would see it wasn't honest. Then she said. "I'm sorry, Christian. I would not care to have dinner with you. Not tomorrow, not the day after tomorrow. Never. Okay?"

The man's face blanched visibly. Dumbstruck he took a staggering step backwards.

"O-oh. Okay. H-Have a nice e-evening, then." he murmured before he retreated to sulk somewhere else about the rebuff.

And then, Nigel heard something he hadn't heard in a very very long time. Miranda laughed. A genuine, honest laugh. Andy simply grinned and offered her a hand with the words:

"Dance with me?"

Miranda looked at her with something, Nigel again couldn't place the meaning of. She then nodded and – the poor man again nearly chocked – took her hand to be lead to the dance floor on the other side of the room. Nigel modestly followed.

He watched them dance for first one song, and then another. His mouth dropped open at the third one. It was a slow one and they moved nearer, their bodies touching, until they didn't really dance any longer, it was more of swaying-together-and-staying-on-the-same-spot-all-the-while. He gulped. What were they playing at?

That feeling he had earlier, that there must be something between them, then the small talk, Andy rebuffing Mr. Thompson, Miranda laughing and now the dancing. He was beyond puzzled right now.

Maybe it's the alcohol, he tried to reassure himself, maybe you are already totally out of it, Nigel, and you are just dreaming of them dancing together.

He wanted to turn around and get outside for a few minutes. Maybe that would clear his head a little. But as he saw Emily approach him, he stayed where he was. Maybe she could help him to find an answer to those confusing thoughts he had.

**Earlier that day**

"So, you are sure about tonight?"

"Of course, darling. I wouldn't have-"

"-suggested it otherwise, I know" the young woman smiled.

"Cheeky little thing, aren't you?" the other woman said and sat down on the bed with a heavy sigh. "Christian Thompson will be there, too, tonight." She sounded troubled.

Andy sat down beside her, taking hold of the older woman's hand.

"If he's going to approach me at all, I won't give him much of a chance to get near to me. Miranda, I love you. Especially he won't come between us." not again.

Miranda knew of that little fling she'd had with him in Paris. But that was two years ago.

Miranda looked into those dark, deep brown eyes. A small smile played along the corners of her mouth.

"I love you, too, darling." she whispered and caressed the brunettes cheek lovingly.

"All right. Let's get ready... We will meet there, right?"

Again, they spoke about their plan for the evening. Tonight would be the night they would go public. But they decided on being subtle, not arriving there together, but leaving together.

And that was, where they were now. They had been circling each other the whole evening without speaking to each other. Just an occasional smile. As Christian Thompson arrived and engaged Andy in a talk, Miranda had watched them carefully. And as he leaned in to whisper something in her ear and the editor saw how her Andréa firmly pushed him away, she was willing to step in.

They played their "small talk game", as Andréa had dubbed it in the beginning. And as Mr Thompson left again, Andréa couldn't resist to ask her for a dance.

Well, Miranda was fine with it. After three hours separated from her gorgeous love while all the time being in the same room with her, she needed the contact, dearly.

**Right now**

Emily, not drunk – she hadn't touched one glass of alcohol tonight – listened to Nigel's words. And remained speechless after he finished.

"Em?" the bald man asked her "Just turn around and look at them. What do you think? Where they seeing each other before and the small talk in front of Christian was just a show? Or did they just reconnect this evening?"

Emily swallowed hard as she did as she was told.

"Well, the way they look at each other, the way... they dance together... seems close. Intimate. But why would they play a game, Nigel? I mean, since when would Miranda make a secret out of... - Okay, that doesn't make much sense. Why does it matter to you, anyway? It's Miranda fucking Priestly and Andy bloody Sachs. If they are seeing each other, well, so be it." she said nonchalantly.

Nigel shrugged his shoulders.

"She's our boss. And Andy's our friend." he stated, not even sure what he wanted to say with that.

And Emily wasn't sure, either. She just knew that the Miranda there, in Andy's arms, looked far more happier and content than the Miranda she saw every day at work.

The next song started to play. This time it was a cha-cha-cha and the dancing pairs adapted perfectly. Miranda and Andy, too. Nigel could see now, it was his Six who took the lead.

"That's Michael Bublé." Emily said and took a sip of her water.

Nigel shrugged his shoulders. "And?"

"And Andy took the lead. They're playing a game. And trying to make a statement. Listen to the lyrics, Nige. But don't gape. If they are happy, so be it." Emily said nonchalantly and turned around to leave.

Oh yes, their boss and their friend. They both were good at playing games. Emily knew that Miranda had always had a soft spot for the 'smart, fat girl' she hired on a whim. 'The one who left and survived'. Well, she didn't leave Miranda at all, it seemed. Emily smiled and walked out of the building.

Michael Bublé – Sway

When marimba rhythms start to play

Dance with me, make me sway

Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore

Hold me close, sway me more

Like a flower bending in the breeze

Bend with me, sway with ease

When we dance you have a way with me

Stay with me, sway with me

Other dancers may be on the floor

Dear, but my eyes will see only you

Only you have that magic technique

When we sway I go weak

I can hear the sounds of violins

Long before it begins

Make me thrill as only you know how

Sway me smooth, sway me now

Other dancers may be on the floor

Dear, but my eyes will see only you

Only you have that magic technique

When we sway I go weak

I can hear the sounds of violins

Long before it begins

Make me thrill as only you know how

Sway me smooth, sway me now

When marimba rhythms start to play

Dance with me, make me sway

Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore

Hold me close, sway me more

Like a flower bending in the breeze

Bend with me, sway with ease

When we dance you have a way with me

Stay with me, sway with me

When marimba start to play

Hold me close make me sway

Like an ocean hugs the shore

Hold me close, sway me more

Like a flower bending in the breeze

Bend with me, sway with ease

When we dance you have a way with me

Stay with me, sway with me