Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own this fabulous couple, nor do I make any money from getting them together through writing.
Genre: Fluff, angst, and a chance of smut.
I won't beg for reviews, but they would be much appreciated!
Andy rolled over sleepily and stretched in bed, met by a grunt from the man next to her, who she'd just unwittingly slapped in the face with her arm. She pushed up onto her elbows and sat up with a groan. She turned to look at the sleeping man. Ugh. Another 'silver fox'. She was turning into some kind of father-complex cliché. Why did she always drink so much?
The brunette cautiously slid out from underneath the covers and looked around for her clothes. She found her dress flung across a chair on the other side of the room and quickly pulled it on. She scanned around for her heels and purse and, grabbing them, sneaked out of the flat. After closing the door behind her with a faint squeak, she leaned against it and sighed, feeling ashamed. Her head spun. She reached into her purse and pulled out her phone. 7.17 am. Shit.
She ran to the corner of the street and managed to hail a cab. The short dress came in handy. Fifteen minutes later she was back in her flat and pulling the dress back over her head. Kicking off her heels, she rushed to the bathroom and took a luke-warm shower, slapping her face slightly with her hands in a bid to wake up. She washed her hair and climbed out, wrapping a large white fluffy towel around her as she practically ran to the bedroom.
After a mad rush to find a suitable outfit and sort out her hair, it was after 8am when Andy left the flat, choosing to get another cab rather than take the subway, not wanting to be even later than she already was. Why had she wasted time with a shower? Surely having slightly greasy hair was better than being late for work and being on the receiving end of Miranda's wrath. But that hadn't seemed like a suitable option at all for Andy, who cringed at the thought of what Miranda would think of her if she saw anything close to the state Andy was in just an hour ago.
Miranda pursed her lips. She knew Andrea wasn't due at the office until 8.30 today but the woman should have known by now to come in before that. She stood up from her chair, paced towards the door, and held the door frame, glaring at Andrea's empty desk.
"I thought I had two assistants. Clearly, I was mistaken."
She marched back into her office as Emily hid a smug smile at her last words.
Sitting back at her desk, Miranda tried again to busy herself with work, flicking through print-outs of yesterday's Yves Saint Laurent photoshoot. She heard a thud and the sound of the outer-door being forcefully pushed open and looked up to see a pink-faced, apologetic-looking Andrea who tried, a little too late, to be subtle and slide behind her desk.
There were a few moments silence and Miranda took a deep breath before lazily calling,
A second later, Andrea was standing in the doorway. She was a little less pink-faced now, and without a jacket, revealing a low cut white blouse, tucked into a grey Calvin Klein pencil skirt. She clutched a pen and notepad to her chest and bit her lip.
"Well, I don't have a megaphone."
Andrea looked confused for a moment and then hurried forward, closer to Miranda's desk. The older woman grimaced slightly at her own unimaginative attempt at wit - which had sounded much better in her head - before pushing her glasses down to the edge of her nose and giving Andrea an icy stare. The younger woman avoided her gaze but gave a nod.
"I need you to find a new photographer for the Calvin Klein shoot." She let out an annoyed sigh. "Apparently for some people family funerals take priority."
Andy looked down at Miranda again, slightly surprised. She had expected some dry comment about her (not-quite) late arrival, or at least her noisy entrance into the office.
Miranda looked impatient and Andy scurried back out meeting Emily's annoyed glare. The redhead had clearly arrived well before 7.30.
It was 9 o'clock in the evening by the time Miranda had sorted out the mess that had been the Yves Saint Laurent shoot the previous day. A re-shoot had to be organised and of course, she had to overlook everything, lest another disaster took place. Why did everything seem to prove so difficult for her creative team? She sighed and took off her glasses, closing her eyes and rubbing her temples with two long fingers. She lowered her elbow onto the desk and rested her head on her left hand.
Miranda's eyes shot open as she jerked upright. Andrea was standing in the door way and blushed slightly, her brown eyes showing what looked like concern.
"Sorry I didn't mean to wake - um - to startle you." She stepped into the office, handing Miranda a file. The older woman blinked at Andrea before taking it from her and flipping it open. It contained the final edits of that day's shoot. She stroked the glossy print-outs and felt her lips curve a fraction upwards into what was almost a smile upon seeing that the photos were use-able this time. Miranda looked up at Andrea who smiled down on her and for a moment Miranda was lost in those brown pools of friendliness and felt a surprising urge to grin back at her. She resisted however and cleared her throat, raising a questioning eyebrow at the young assistant.
"Is there anything else I can do?" Andrea asked.
"Did you collect the blouses Nigel ordered yesterday?"
"Yes, I passed them on to him this morning."
"I need you to rearrange tomorrow evening's meeting with Dolce and Gabbana."
"The twins' piano recital, yes. I've arranged the meeting for next Monday instead."
"Oh." was Miranda's only reply.
"Anything else?" Andrea's smile broadened.
Miranda stood up and surprised herself, having to stifle back a small yawn. She coughed to cover it up and Andrea looked away, seeming not to have noticed.
"If you would get my coat?" Miranda said, more than asked, as she walked out of the office. Andrea nodded and followed closely behind her, collecting Miranda's bag and coat and passing them to her with another smile. Miranda suppressed another urge to smile back. She wasn't quite sure where these urges were coming from and put it down to sleep-deprivation, but felt a slight flutter in her stomach none-the-less. She pulled on her coat, trying to put the thought out of her head, and turned to walk through the door when Andrea called from behind her.
"Goodnight, Miranda. Sleep well."
Miranda froze for a moment then left the office without looking back and without a word, but with slightly pink cheeks and a small smile at last springing to her lips.
Oh my god, thought Andy, why the hell did I say that? The words had just fallen out of her mouth clumsily, without much thought. Thank god Emily had left earlier today, the situation was embarrassing enough without the Briton's cold comments, no doubt she would have mocked Andy with sarcastic impersonations for weeks afterwards.
The brunette yawned. It hadn't really hit her until now just how tired she was, not having had much sleep the previous night, or the night before that, or the one before that. She was tempted to just slump down at her desk and sleep, but Andy knew she couldn't without the risk of being woken up by Emily's prodding at 7.15 the next morning. She thought back to earlier, to a sleeping Miranda. She'd looked so peaceful, head leaning on her arms on the desk, back arched forward, rising and falling gently as she breathed - no, purred - in her sleep. Andy had stood there for a few moments, just watching, and taking in the image of an unguarded Miranda, one that didn't care if her hair was slightly ruffled by her arms, or if her blouse had come un-tucked from her pencil skirt and rode a little way up her back... Andy felt her mouth grow dry and swallowed, lost in the memory, trying to ignore the feeling that swelled at the bottom of her stomach. She shook her head and came back to her senses, picked up her things and left.