Disclaimer: I don't own these hot ladies, nor do I own the Devil Wears Prada. I merely play with them.

Pairing: Mirandy

Genre: Smut in the office.

This is a one-shot. If femslash isn't your thing, obviously this isn't for you. But if it IS your thing, you're in exactly the right place. Reviews are always nice ;)

Andy thought her first time with a woman would be romantic – for want of a better word. A quiet nightcap after a delightful dinner, a bottle of wine left long-forgotten on the coffee table. Maybe the L Word soundtrack playing in the background. God, those were some good songs. Perhaps a few candles.

It wasn't.

It was a sweaty, muffled fuck behind a closed door.

Emily was out of the office on a coffee run and after yet another spiteful comment from Miranda about her appearance, Andy had snapped.

"You know, a tiny bit of respect goes a long way!" She had spat, storming into Miranda's office, a good five minutes after the petty remark had been dropped on her as the older woman strode past her desk.

Miranda's cheeks flared pink and her mouth dropped open for a brief moment before snapping shut again. Lips pursed. The editor rose from her seat slowly and Andy gulped, her earlier courage doused.

"Excuse me?" She spoke in an all-too-quiet voice as she stalked – painfully slowly – around her desk towards Andy.

The brunette put on her best pokerface, willing herself not to stutter.

"I would appreciate it if you would keep your thoughts on my appearance to yourself. Just because you think I'm fat, doesn't mean you have to tell me so."

Andy could have sworn the woman had faltered for a moment but a split-second later the ice cool façade was back in place.

"I see."

"No. I really don't think you do." The younger woman was annoyed at her boss' blatant disregard of her hurtful comments. "How would you feel, if I commented on your appearance every single day?"

The woman let out a sharp, fake laugh. "If you absolutely have to get something of your chest, go ahead. I wouldn't want to stop you." She stepped forward, challenging her employee.

Now it was Andy's turn to falter. She hadn't expected that. What the fuck was she supposed to say? The real truth, of course, was not an option. I think you're the sexiest person I've ever laid eyes on?

"I don't think those shadows under your eyes are flattering you today." She spoke dryly, grateful that her voice had remained steady, no matter how fast her heart was pounding.

"Oh?" Miranda tilted her head, mocking, waiting for more.

"You make yourself look foolish by wearing sunglasses indoors. Although on the upside, at least it covers your crow's feet for a few extra minutes." Andy took a step closer, attempting to gain some height on the slightly shorter woman.

"Could you take notes for me?" Her boss drawled. "After all, it will be the last time you do." Her mouth broke into a wide faux smile. Something menacing lingered in her eyes.

Andy mimed writing notes on her hand and plastered a dazzling grin on her face, sarcasm dripping from her voice as she spoke.

"Fuck. You."

She drew out the words, relishing the feeling as each syllable rolled casually off her tongue. Her insides, on the other hand, twisted uncomfortably and her brain screamed at her mouth.

Her eyes bore into Miranda's own and the older woman looked - furious? No, that wasn't quite it. The brunette didn't have much time to place her expression; at that moment Miranda lurched forwards. Lurch wasn't the right word. She pounced. Andy flinched, eyes shutting on instinct, bracing herself for a slap across the face.

Her eyes flickered open a second later when she felt Miranda brush past her. She spun around as she heard the click of the door.

Andy had no time to react before hands were on her waist. She staggered forward in her heels as she was wrenched forward. Her back slammed against the closed door painfully and it took all her control not to collapse to the ground when lips collided with her throat. Their movements were aggressive and desperate, and right now Andy didn't want it any other way.

Miranda bit down on her shoulder blade and Andy moaned aloud.

Two sets of hands grabbed at two blouses and pulled simultaneoulsy. Andy's blouse ripped down the middle, and for a moment the older woman paused, soaking up the sight of her assistant, panting and wanton beneath her hands. The brunette, however, had other ideas and, as little silver buttons scattered across the floor, she moved in for her assault. Yanking the right bra cup down, she dove forward and sucked at the skin beneath, tongue flicking over the hardened bud.

Miranda cried out and her knees nearly gave way under her. Andy took the opportunity to spin them both around and pin the editor against the door. She leaned in, her mouth millimetres from the older woman's, a wicked sparkle in her eyes.

"Don't you dare kiss me." Miranda growled. Her breath was coming in pants now and Andy could feel every sharp puff against her lips.

"I'm not going to." She tilted Miranda's head to the side forcefully and trailed her trailed her tongue along her jaw-line. Pulling back again, she forced the older woman to meet her gaze. "I'm going to fuck you."

A moan ripped from Miranda's lips and the younger woman stifled it with a hand over her mouth. She pulled her hand away, only to slip two fingers in the older woman's mouth. "We don't know who's on the other side of this door." She whispered with a smirk, trying to keep herself from groaning as the editor sucked on her fingers, eyes darkened with desire and locked onto Andy's.

Andy withdrew her hand and trailed the wet fingers across the older woman's skin; from her chin to her neck and down her chest, letting them linger on a rock-hard nipple before stroking down her abdomen and toying with the zipper of Miranda's slacks. The assistant licked her lips as she took in the appearance of the woman before her: dishevelled, writhing, panting. Her hips bucked involuntarily and Andy knew she wouldn't last much longer.

The older woman regained just enough control to shove Andy's skirt up past her hips. Andy silently thanked God she was wearing stockings today.

Her hand slipped into the editor's trousers and Andy moaned softly at how wet Miranda was; her panties were soaked. Forcing them out of the way, Andy locked eyes with Miranda and plunged three fingers between the folds. Before she could bask in the fantastic feeling of being inside, Miranda shoved two fingers inside her and both of them gasped aloud. The older woman's eyes rolled heavenwards and her head fell back against the door with a soft thud, neck flushed and shimmering with sweat. Their bodies were inseparable now and the lace of Andy's bra rubbed roughly against Miranda's exposed nipple as she ground against the other woman. In turn, the older woman grabbed clumsily at Andy's breast with her free hand and teased the bud between her finger tips, nipping and rubbing.

Andy ignored the cramp in her arm and focused on pleasuring the other woman as they thrust against one another, fucking each other over the edge.

"More." Miranda demanded between pants as she slipped a third finger into brown curls. Andy complied, her mind somersaulting as she slid a fourth finger in. Miranda stilled momentarily before pushing herself further down onto Andy's hand and quickening the pace of their thrusts once again. The older women lifted her right leg, allowing more access and Andy grabbed her thigh, pulling the leg higher and wrapping it around her waist, thrusting her fingers violently into Miranda as she rocked her full body against her rhythmically.

"Andrea." Miranda's eyes were tight shut as she spoke through gritted teeth, bucking her hips desperately. "Now."

Andy didn't need to be told. Her thumb found its way to the woman's clit and Andy mashed her thumb against it. Hard. The editor's head flung back almost painfully and a silent scream burst from her lips as she thrust herself down onto Andy's hand frantically, her right leg kicking out sharply as she came. The erratic movements of Miranda's fingers inside her set off Andy's orgasm, though the sight in front of her alone would have been enough, and she pushed herself forcefully against the older woman as her she bore down on her hand, walls clenching around the fingers inside. Her whole body shook as she stifled a cry into the crook of Miranda's neck, coming violently.

The silence surrounding them seemed louder than ever.

Neither woman moved. Miranda's leg was wrapped around Andy's waist, and the younger woman gripped her thigh like her life depended on it. Their bodies were pressed together, chests heaving as they both panted, each determined to reach a rate of steady breathing before the other.

The ringing of a phone could be heard on the other side of the door and Andy pulled back just enough to meet Miranda's gaze. Still, neither dared to move. Well-trained at reading Miranda's facial expressions by this stage, the brunette searched those pale blue eyes - for what? Shock? Rejection? Hope that this would happen again? Miranda's eyes weren't giving anything away.

Emily's raised voice could be heard from the outer office.

"No. Like I said, Miranda is busy. I will pass on a message." The assistant knew better than to interrupt Miranda when the door was closed because, well, the door was never closed.

A blush spread over Andy's cheeks as she realised that her fingers were still in Miranda and Miranda's in her. The editor seemed to have the exact same thought and a look of embarrassment flickered over her face as they moved away from one another. Andy's hand lowered Miranda's leg to the ground and she pulled her soaking hand out of drenched trousers. Miranda's fingers withdrew slowly and the young woman couldn't stop a small moan escaping her lips. Whether at the loss of contact, or at arousal, she wasn't sure.

Miranda was completely undone; there was no way she could leave the office in the same set of clothes as she'd entered. Andy let her eyes rake down her figure. Her blouse hung loosely, odd buttons hanging on by loose threads, and light grey slacks were stained a shade darker in certain places. Judging by the way Miranda was frowning at her, the assistant guessed that she was in a similar state.

"Do you-" Andy began at the same time as Miranda.

"I have spare clothes. Wait here." And with that the editor breezed past her - with a little too much grace for someone who had just been came minutes ago - and headed into her private bathroom. The door swung silently shut behind her.

The brunette looked down at herself. Shit, she was a mess. There was definitely no saving the ripped blouse but at least this was one from The Closet and not her own (small) collection of designer items. A sudden thought flashed through her mind that Miranda might actually make her pay Runway back out of her own pocket. She chuckled bitterly. Hell, Andy had no idea what to expect from Miranda after that afternoon.

Andy lost herself in her thoughts for a while and nerves had just started to creep to the surface when Miranda emerged from the bathroom. The younger woman's jaw dropped. Miranda looked fantastic. Of course, Miranda in the throes of an orgasm had also looked fantastic, but the woman who stepped into the office now was without doubt Miranda Priestly. Blouse and slacks - and probably underwear too, Andy thought, feeling a slight throb between her legs - had been discarded and the new outfit was impeccable; from the perfect, crisp collar of her shirt to the tips of her Christian Dior pumps. Make-up and hair had been re-done and Andy was impressed, even by Miranda's standards. Looking that regal after being fucked by your assistant against your office door was an incredible feat.

"I brought you a change of clothes." Miranda even had the decency to blush. Perhaps this wasn't just Miranda Priestly after all.

"Thank you." The younger woman couldn't imagine what her face looked like right now - it was taking all her self-discipline not to start babbling like an idiot, let alone control her facial expressions. "Erm."

"You may use the bathroom, of course." A small smile graced her features. Andy let out a quiet sigh of relief. She'd half-expected Miranda to throw her out the window down onto the street below in her underwear. "And I don't, by the way."

"Sorry, what?" Use the bathroom?

"Think that you're fat."

"Oh. Well, I-"

"Andrea, get changed. We can't have you walking out of my office looking like that." Her gaze roamed over Andy's body and her tongue darted out, licking her bottom lip. A greedy look flashed behind her blue eyes. "We don't know who's on the other side of this door, after all." She teased.

Andy grinned. "Oh, but I rather like this new look." She joked, turning as if to leave the office.

A hand caught her own as she turned. Miranda pulled her into her arms. "So do I. But it's for my eyes only." She smiled, a full warm smile that reached her eyes, and Andy lifted a hand to cup her cheek. "Of course."

And then, for the first time, they kissed.

-The End-