I was not supposed to write fanfics now – I've got plenty of original things that needs some working on – but it happened. I know this has been done before, and it's been done better before, but still. The muse apparently decides everything for herself.
Basically, it's Miranda coming down with the flu and being looked after by Andy. Personally I'm a germ phobic, and would run for the hills if I were Andy, but luckily for Miranda, Andy isn't me. :P
It was one of those days when everything went wrong, Miranda thought. Yes, even she had days like that. It began with her oversleeping – something that never happened to her before. But it had today. She had slept through the alarm clock's blaring and woke up half an hour later than usual. Had woken up to a headache and a scratchy throat. Then she had tangled her legs in the sheets and falling rather than stepping out of bed. Then she had forgotten The Book. She would never admit it to anyone, but she had actually forgotten The Book. She realized it when she was almost at the office, and had Roy turn around and take her back through the entire morning traffic again. She would have been furious if she could possibly have blamed anyone else. In fact, she would have been furious with herself too, if she wasn't feeling too run down to gather the passion of fury.
Then she had been forced to wait for an elevator because they were all busy. And when she got out of the elevator, she somehow – she wasn't sure herself how it had happened – managed to trip herself and break off the heel on her Jimmy Choo.
In her office everything seemed to be under control, though. Magazines placed out correctly, scalding hot coffee right where it was supposed to be, the spread she had asked for delivered. Sitting down, she flicked through the rival magazine of Vogue – only to realize that bitch Anna Wintour had managed to snatch the very idea she had for Runway's next cover. She took a sip of her coffee for comfort, and the pain it sent to her already sore throat was unbearable. She coughed and put the coffee aside. No coffee today, it seemed.
"Andrea", she said, noticing that her voice already started to sound hoarse. Oh, great, this was really shaping up to be the worst day of her life. When her second assistant showed up, Miranda's mood improved significantly, however. Andrea seemed to have that effect on her. Gentle, brown eyes met Miranda's.
"Get rid of that", she said with a curt nod towards the coffee. "And make me some tea instead, honey".
Andrea looked dumbstruck at this instruction, and Miranda nearly groaned out loud when she replayed her words in her mind and noticed her slip. Her Freudian slip.
"I, uh, didn't catch that, Miranda, I'm sorry", the girl said.
"Really Andrea, do you need some time off to see the audiologist? I asked you to make me some tea instead, with honey", she corrected herself, not missing a beat. "That's all".
"Okay, right. Tea with honey coming up", she said and disappeared. Miranda hid her face in her hands and suppressed another cough. Yes, she was definitely coming down with something, and it was rapidly progressing. She would never let her guard down to the point where she'd actually let her inner thoughts slip out like that if she wasn't sick.
Andy had to go shopping, because obviously there was no honey in Runway's domain. By the time she got back to Miranda with the requested beverage, the editor-in-chief was very clearly running a fever. Her eyes looked glassy and dazed, her cheeks were flushed, and her shoulders slumped as if she was too tired to straighten them. Andy put the cup down on her desk and hesitated, almost asking Miranda if she was alright, but decided against it.
"That's-" Miranda cut herself off and stifled two quick sneezes before finishing as if nothing had happened; "all".
"Bless you, Miranda".
"I'm not sick!" Miranda retorted as if Andy had said anything, immediately contradicting herself by having a coughing fit. She looked defiantly at the younger woman, her eyes daring her to push the matter.
"I didn't say you were", Andy responded gently.
No, she didn't. And you just confirmed it yourself. Way to go, old woman.
"That's all", Miranda dismissed her with a final glare. When Andrea left her office, she closed the doors behind her. Miranda was absurdly grateful for this; it was Andrea offering her privacy without being told to. And that privacy was needed if she was going to make it through this day, because the tickly feeling in her throat had returned and she just knew she was going to cough all day.
By noon, Miranda was feeling so feverish she was reconsidering her decision to go into office at all. Not trusting her voice to carry, she decided against staying put and call for Andrea, but walked out of her office to tell the assistant to reschedule her afternoon and call Roy. Her body ached, even her skin and the roots of her hair seemed to ache.
"Andrea", she rasped, and when the younger woman looked up at her with those concerned, beautiful eyes, she nearly began to cry. She did become quite sensitive when she had a fever, but this was ridiculous. "I am not feeling well".
"I'll clear your schedule for the next two days and call Roy immediately. Do you want me to make some more tea?"
Tears welled up in her eyes at this thoughtful question, but all she wanted was to get home.
"No, it's fine".
"Why don't you go lay down for a moment, and I'll tell you when Roy is here?", Andy said, knowing that Roy was on the other side of the city and would need some time to get through New York during lunch hour. And Miranda certainly looked as if she could need some rest.
"Yes, yes, I will", she replied weakly and went back to her office, collapsing on the couch in the far end of the room.
Andy frowned and looked to Emily.
"Em, I think I'd better go with her and make sure she gets home alright. She's pretty sick".
Emily raised her hands in a gesture of surrender.
"Rather you than me", she replied, but quietly, so not to attract the Dragon Lady's fire.
Miranda had curled up on the couch, putting her arms around herself to keep warm. She was freezing so bad she would even have welcomed a…
Andrea smiled sheepishly as she put the ugly thing over Miranda's shivering body.
"I know it looks awful, but it's wool, and it's the only thing that I could find in the Closet that even remotely reminded of a blanket".
Miranda gave her a look that was almost shy, before closing her eyes.