Disclaimer: Own nada when it comes to The Devil Wears Prada – neither the movie nor the book. Alas.
Pairing: Andy/Miranda (MirAndy)
Rating: G – NC-17, depending on chapter. This one is G.
Summary: Miranda walks out of a dead drunk Stephen two days before Paris. She ends up in a bar, sitting right next to a pretty girl that turns out to be Andrea, her assistant, who in turn makes her an unexpected offer.
A/N: This is pretty a/u, as I've messed with events and timeline. Just so you know!
Give In to Me
An Andy/Miranda Devil Wears Prada Fan Fiction
By Gun Brooke
Miranda helped Andrea out of the town car in front of the unassuming hotel. She didn't want Andrea to go back alone to her apartment, nor was she particularly keen on going to her townhouse. Emily already had Miranda's entire luggage taken care of for Paris, and whatever Andrea needed they could buy. Serena had come to the hospital and gotten Andrea's keys in order to fetch her passport.
"May I help you, Ma'am?" the doorman asked and approached them. "The young lady looks…fatigued."
Miranda knew this was a way of getting around calling someone drunk. Grinding her teeth, she waved the man away. "We'll manage." Like she would have anyone else anywhere near Andrea after she had been poked and prodded by several healthcare professionals. She had used every possible string she could think of the pull, and favor to collect, which included calling the DA of New York City to allow Andrea to leave the country for a week. That had meant having Stephen arraigned instantly and let go on bail until they returned.
The hotel staff inside the lobby didn't fail to recognize Miranda and since Emily had called to make arrangements, they were escorted to the penthouse suite instantly. Miranda tipped bellhop #2 at the door and made it clear they would manage without him giving them the grand tour. Inside, Andrea stopped in the middle of the floor and covered her face.
"Andrea?" Miranda dropped her coat and bag on a chair and then pulled Andrea's hands down. "Are you feeling ill? Do I need to call the hospital back?"
"No. This is…I'm just so sorry. I failed to help keep you, the situation with Stephen, everything, out of the press." She trembled and Miranda realized Andrea was suffering from shock and would do so for a while yet.
"I want you to come with me to Paris, but are you truly up for it?" Dread filled Miranda's stomach at the thought of having to leave without Andrea.
"I am. I'm up for it. D-don't leave me. You can't leave without me." Her huge eyes a thunderous black, Andrea looked imploringly at Miranda. "I just need to get some sleep."
"A very good idea. I know they fed you something at the hospital that you couldn't stomach. Honestly, I wonder how anyone can be expected to recover when they try to depress you with such…substances. I'll order room service for us. What can I tempt you with?" Miranda's cheeks warmed at her own choice of words.
"Just a chicken Caesar salad. Some orange juice, no pulp."
Miranda nodded and ordered that and a medium rare steak for herself. "Twenty minutes," she said to Andrea who had curled up on the couch. Miranda took a seat next to her, somehow needing to be close. "Are you sore?"
"Just when I swallow. A little. And I'm cold. I mean, I shouldn't be? It's warm in here."
Miranda wanted to reach out to wrap Andrea in her arms, warm her, keep her safe. She was hesitant as Andrea had this vulnerable, crystal like look about her, like she'd shatter at the slightest touch. Ridiculous. If Andrea needed warmth and Miranda was sitting right next to her, it wasn't too hard to figure out what she needed to do. Still, that fragile expression on Andrea's face made it prudent to ask.
"May I hold you, Andrea? I too feel a little cold," Miranda said, exaggerating to take the pressure off Andrea to feel even more of a victim.
"Yeah. Yes. Please." Andrea slid closer and raised careful arms and wrapped them around Miranda's neck with surprising force. "Oh, God. He…He…I thought he'd kill me. Kill me for not being…being…" Andrea trembled so hard, she could hardly talk.
"For not being…?"
"You. He was there to find you. When I wasn't…he went ballistic. I was sure I'd killed him."
"Stephen has a bump and has been arraigned. He's not going to hurt either of us, or anyone else, when we're done with him." Miranda wanted to kick herself at how Andrea went rigid at her acidic words. "But that's not important now. What matters is eating some, making sure we have the documents we need to travel tomorrow, and once we're in Paris, you'll have so much to occupy your mind, he will feel very far away."
"You promise?" Andrea pulled back and looked into Miranda's eyes.
"That you'll feel he's far away? He will be. He's out on bail, unable to travel."
"No. Do you promise that you won't decide to leave me behind?"
"I promise." That was easy to do.
Andrea relaxed against her shoulder, her lips a fraction of an inch from Miranda's skin. Leaning against the backrest, Miranda pulled Andrea with her so they could both relax. Miranda found it completely natural to rub Andrea's back in small circles. Soon she couldn't take the hospital shirt's course fabric against her palm, but opened the fastening and slid her hand inside.
Andrea gasped mutedly against Miranda's neck, but didn't move away. Instead her arms held on firmer to Miranda who in turn found it difficult to breathe normally.
"Feels good," Andrea whispered. "So good. You have such soft, soft hands."
"Not as soft as the skin on your back," Miranda murmured. "You're like silk, Andrea. I shouldn't do this. Not think of you like this."
"But I want you to. I need to feel you close to me. You make me feel safe."
"Last night it was the other way around." Miranda knew she couldn't let her suddenly so insistent libido take over. Andrea was traumatized, had been attacked, and she should be handled with care. The overwhelming guilt of having sent Andrea right into Stephen's drunken path made her feel physically ill.
Andrea kept her face buried into her neck, but Miranda slowed the caresses over to soothing rather than sensual. The silken skin on her back made her fingertips tingle and Miranda knew had circumstances been different, there was no way she could have resisted the young woman in her arms.
A knock on the door startled them both. Miranda rose and let the waiter in after making him identify himself. She was no fool. The press would have a field day if they managed to send in any of their paparazzi to snap pictures of her or Andrea. The waiter presented their meal and she tipped him impatiently, wanting him to hurry and leave them alone.
Just as they began to eat, Miranda with a sudden voracious appetite and Andrea hesitatingly picking at her salad, there was another knock on the door.
"Now what?" Miranda sighed and rose. Checking the door-eye, Miranda was relieved to see Nigel. She let him in and found herself wrapped up in a tight hug.
"Six!" He let go of Miranda and hurried over to Andrea. "Oh, my God, what did he do to your neck? Damn it, girl, that's a crime in more ways than one. And that hospital issued shirt. Horrible."
"I can tell you're not sure which is worse for me, being choked or wearing scratchy hospital shirts." Andrea's color returned to her cheek as she smirked at Nigel. Miranda could've kissed him for having that effect on Andrea.
Another knock on the door made Miranda snort softly. "Like Grand Central Station." She glanced in the door-eye again. Serena. She opened and let the tall Brazilian in. "I see you brought us what we need. Thank you, I know it's late."
"You're welcome, Miranda," she said. "I think this is everything you and Andy need before you get to Paris. I've confirmed the flight and the airline assures me that the Runway staff all sits together with as much privacy as it's humanly possible to ensure."
"Excellent. Do take a seat." She pointed at the chairs next to her and Andrea's. "We want to finish our meal. I think there's a way to make coffee over there." She pointed at the section of the dining room where a state-of-the-art coffee maker sat. "I know I would enjoy a cup. Andrea? Coffee?"
"Sure, Miranda," Andrea said automatically and stood. Miranda stopped her with a no-nonsense gesture. "No, no. Sit down and finish your salad. I meant, do you want some coffee? I'm sure one of the others here can make really good coffee. Yes?"
"Absolutely, Miranda." Nigel jumped up. "I actually have a similar machine like this. No problem."
"Excellent." Miranda smiled softly at her friend and associate. "Now that we're all here, I want you to be extra careful what you say to the press. I've managed to get them to agree to let Andrea come to Paris with me…us. If the press gets wind of this and makes a huge issue of it, this might not happen. So. Lid on."
Nigel and Andrea nodded.
"They won't get anything from us," Serena said solemnly. "I just talked to the nurse on Emily's ward. "They had to reset the bones in her leg twice as her fracture is highly unstable. She's resting comfortably now and is highly sedated." Her eyes shone of unshed tears. "I was so worried."
Miranda knew exactly how Serena felt. "The main thing is that Emily is a fighter, and under the best care."
"She made me her next-of-kin here." Serena blushed. "As her parents live in London and their relationship is not without issues."
"That's great, Serena," Andrea said and patted her friend's hand. "Good choice on Emily's part."
Nigel came over with two steaming mugs of coffee, placing the first one by Miranda's plate and gave the other one to Andrea. "Yours is a decaf, Six. Seemed appropriate."
"Thanks, Nige." Andrea sipped her mug and smiled. "It actually helps with the soreness."
His eyes travelled to the horrible bruising. "Always something." He glanced over at Miranda. "This has to be horrible for you. First this man does so much to try and humiliate you and then he attacks the woman you…I mean, the assistant you've come to, uhm, appreciate."
"No need to walk on egg shells, Nigel," Miranda said calmly as she cut a slice of her steak. "Andrea knows how important she is to me. As an assistant and as a…friend."
Serena's eyes grew huge. "Then this really has to take a toll. I know how much Andy cares for you in return."
"Serena!" Andrea looked flustered. Apparently her facial capillaries were back in business.
Miranda nodded. "Yes. I know she does. Now, Nigel, this was excellent coffee. Had I known you were this proficient in brewing a perfect blend, I could've saved the feet of my assistants. When we get back from Paris, we're installing a few of these machines in the office."
"Am I to operate them all?" Nigel paled.
"No. But you will give everyone a crash course how to make coffee just like this." Miranda sipped her cup and it was pure bliss. "All in all a rather good ending to an utterly horrible day." She smiled faintly toward Andrea who nodded.
"I think I'll be able to sleep now," Andrea said, looking relieved. "Something to eat in the company of friends helped with that surreal feeling."
"Also known as shock," Miranda said.
"Yes. Not anything I would like to experience anytime soon." Shrugging Andrea rose and placed a kiss on Nigel's bald head, and then another one on Serena's cheek. Not hesitating, she kissed Miranda's cheek as well. "I'll go have a really hot shower and then go to bed. Good night."
"Good night, Andrea. I'll check on you before I go to bed."
"You don't have to…"
"All right. If I'm asleep, I'll see you tomorrow morning. I'll set my cell phone to ring as back up. I don't want to miss the flight because someone at the hotel missed waking us."
After Andrea left, Miranda turned her attention back to Serena and Nigel. "She wasn't doing very well emotionally before you came. Thank you for helping me bring her out of the worst of it for now. I'm sure she'll have flashbacks, and I could kill Stephen for it, but what we can do is be here if she does. You both have your job cut out for you when we get to Paris, but I would like to ask of you, as friends of Andrea's, to help me keep an eye on her emotional state."
The other two stared at her as if she just stepped off a space ship and asked to be taken to their leaders.
"Certainly," Serena said, her eyes soft. "Now. As far as I know, her name hasn't reached the press. Yet. But no doubt it will, so, has she called her parents yet?"
"She did talk to her father, very briefly, while we waited at the hospital. No doubt she'll have to call him again tomorrow as he'll have follow-up questions." Miranda didn't want to expose the fact that it had been clear to her that Andrea's relationship with her father was complicated. "I hope the press will be more interested in Stephen's and my relationship, but that's probably naïve to even wish for. Once they pick up the scent, they'll be relentless. They always are."
"Then we'll be there to create hurdles and walls they need to break through," Nigel said decisively. "And on that note, I think Serena I need to go home and get some sleep as well, or we won't be in shape to create anything remotely like a hurdle."
They said good night and left Miranda to contemplate what had gone on since she'd walked out on Stephen. She placed the cup on the cart and merely pushed it out the door. She called the desk and asked them to remove it and not disturb her until the wakeup call the next morning.
Miranda got ready for bed with the well-rehearsed efficiency many late-night sessions with the Book had taught her. Finding a silk camisole that reached her thigh, she put it on as well as the matching panties that came with it. She poked her head into the room where Andrea slept. Andrea was murmuring something inaudible and she had kicked off the covers. She had found the bag Serena brought and was dressed in a white cotton tank top and boy briefs.
"Shh. Just a dream, Andrea." Miranda sat down on the bed next to her. "Andrea?"
"Stop him, stop…" Opening her eyes, Andrea stared up at Miranda. "Oh. There you are."
"Here I am."
"Can't you stay here?" Andrea slid over to the other side of the queen size bed. "I don't want to be alone."
Not about to let Andrea beg, Miranda simply lay down next to her. Not touching, she was still close enough to feel the heat radiating off Andrea's body. Just like the previous night, but reversed roles.
"This okay?" Andrea placed a tentative hand on Miranda's shoulder.
"Come here." Miranda pulled Andrea close and settled her onto her shoulder. "I have you. Nothing bad will happen. Go back to sleep."
Andrea yawned and pushed her face against Miranda's neck. "Mm. Smell so nice."
Miranda stifled a moan as Andrea's full lips whispered across her skin. This was a true test of her famous self-control. Having a scantily clad Andrea in her eyes, and an Andrea who was positively nuzzling her neck, at that, was damn near impossible to resist. She ran her fingers through Andrea's hair. "There. Sleep." Miranda wondered if she would be able to follow her own directive.
To be continued in part 7