I take immense pride in being a tease. R&R, if you fancy.

Andy couldn't breathe. She needed to breathe.

No, she needed to drink.

Ignoring Mini-Angel-Andy on her left shoulder and fully embracing Mini-Demon-Andy on her right, the brunette ordered a double whiskey and diet coke. Mini-Angel-Andy sighed and rolled her eyes. Mini-Demon-Andy grinned and muttered: "You needed it! This is Miranda we're talking about."

Not long later, Andy was staring at the bottom of an empty glass and felt way too sober for her liking.

"Can I get another one of those?" she asked the bar tender, pushing her glass towards him.

Andy nearly fell from her stool when a sultry drawl spoke near her right ear.

"Make that two."

Miranda didn't acknowledge Andy any further but took a seat next to her assistant, eyes focusing on the barman's work. Andy, on the other hand, only had eyes for Miranda and knew how pathetic she must have looked ogling the other woman.


Andy cringed at how breathless she sounded. Miranda turned towards her and raised an eyebrow at the young woman.

"Ah. I suspected Nigel might make a run for it. Should I be offended?"

"No, no, not at all! He just - he had to go. I think he had a lot of work to finish."

Miranda looked amused.

"Hmm, really? Yes, I've heard his boss is a bit of a slave-driver."

"Oh, no, she isn't!" Andy gushed.

Miranda locked eyes with the brunette.

"Oh really?"

"Well, maybe sometimes. Just a little bit." Andy surprised even herself and winked at her boss.

Miranda smiled and Andy blushed furiously, before turning to the drink now in front of her. She took a sip and put the glass down with a loud 'aaah'. Miranda followed suit - minus the 'aaah' - and closed her eyes briefly, a look of bliss on her face.

"Oh I needed that," she spoke in a husky voice. It took all of Andy's self-control not to whimper. She couldn't keep herself from watching the older woman. Sweet Jesus. Those lips.

Miranda's eyes snapped open and locked onto Andy's stare.

"Eyes up here, Andrea."

Miranda's voice was intoxicating and Andy did whimper this time. She coughed awkwardly to mask the sound. Miranda wasn't fooled though. She smiled again and turned back to her drink.

The two sat together in silence for a while, sipping their drinks, and watching the busy bar tender, with the occasional shy glance at one another. It was a comfortable silence and Andy had no idea how much time had passed when she decided to break it. She was thankful she'd had a bit to drink by then.

"Miranda, can I ask you a personal question?" Andy stared into her drink, too nervous to make eye contact.

The older woman was silent for a moment, thinking.

"Yes, you can," she said slowly.

"Are you okay? Is everything all right with you and Stephen? Would you like to talk about it?"

Andy looked sideways to see Miranda's reaction. The older woman continued to look into her glass as she answered.

"I believe that was three questions."

She looked up and Andy smiled softly at her.

"Maths was never my forte."

Miranda lifted her glass and finished her drink.

"Let's get another drink first. My choice this time."

Andy nodded and finished her own.

"Two large glasses of the Rioja, please," she said to the bar tender.

"Coming right up."

The women sat quietly once again and watched him serve their drinks. Miranda took a long sip and turned to Andy.

"Stephen and I-" she sighed. "Things are ...not good. They haven't been 'good' for a very long time."

"This morning, you were so upset. I wanted to say something. I didn't know if it was my place. Did something happen?"

For a moment Andy saw Miranda's mental walls go up and her blue eyes looked distant.

Andrea suddenly seemed to panic.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. It's okay, you don't have to answer that."

The brunette looked apologetic and Miranda sighed, her face softening. It surprised her how much she wished to talk to Andrea about these things. Part of her wanted to tell the young woman everything: the situation with Stephen, her girls' criticisms, her own insecurities. Miranda opened her mouth, heart ready to open herself to Andrea, to let her in. Her brain clamped her mouth shut once more. Andrea didn't need to hear those things, didn't want to hear those things. Miranda had a brief vision of Andrea laughing with her colleagues, and of whispers in the halls of Runway with Miranda as the butt of every joke. She took another sip of wine and mentally shook her head. No, Andrea wouldn't do that to her. Would she? Miranda sighed, and was lost in thought completely.

A warm hand on her thigh wrenched her out of her misery. Her head snapped up and she found herself lost in those lovely brown eyes.

"Miranda, you can trust me."

Andrea's face was so near to her own, Miranda could almost feel the woman's breath on her lips. For a moment, she forgot everything: Stephen, Runway, Page Six. She found herself leaning forward on instinct, eyes never leaving Andrea's. Her mouth was an inch away now; Andrea's breath was coming in short puffs and Miranda could feel her own heart pounding in her chest.

Andy thought she was going to have a panic attack. Her breathing had quickened and the sound filled her entire head. Those piercing blue eyes bore into her and for the first time she realised how hard she had fallen for Miranda.

Miranda blinked. And then, she ran.