Just a little something I threw together instead of being productive and working on real things.
I put the rating at T, but there's a tiny bit of sex stuff in the very beginning - easy to skip over. Other than that, it's all very T.
The first time they had sex she was five weeks pregnant (she just didn't know it). It happened against the wall in the bathroom at some charity benefit thing that Andy had been invited to after she won a prize for her investigative journalism on inner-city homeless shelters. She didn't know Miranda was going to be there, but when she saw her, she was sure as hell glad she'd dressed for the occasion.
"You look well."
"As do you," she smiled. "How's Runway?"
Miranda smirked. "The usual. And you… branching out to freelance now, I heard?"
"You heard?" She raised an eyebrow. Miranda shrugged a shoulder. "Well, it seemed the thing to do."
"Indeed. Well earned, I think."
"Been keeping tabs on me, Priestly?" She joked, but also… what?
"Perhaps," and with that Miranda glided away. Double what?
Andy didn't see her for another forty minutes, until she was cornered by the older woman in an empty bathroom. She didn't have time to react when Miranda kissed her the first time, she was so stunned. However it only took a few seconds after that kiss for Andy to realize that oh yes, she wanted this. She wanted this.
Miranda had pushed her against the expensively papered wall and they'd both scrambled to get under the other's dress. As soon as they found their respective targets they went at it, plunging fingers in and out of each other, too frantic to set any sort of pace.
Seven minutes later they stood shoulder to shoulder at the mirror reapplying their lipstick and smoothing down their hair. Miranda left without a word.
Four days after that Andy got a call from Miranda.
"Who else would it be?"
"Anybody, Miranda, it could have been anybody else." Silence. Andy rolled her eyes. "Is everything okay?"
"Yes, of course. I just wanted to…" she cleared her throat. "About the other night."
"Yeah, that was… something, huh?"
"It was indeed." Andy got a warm feeling in her belly just thinking about it.
"Actually, are you feeling alright?"
"What do you mean?"
"I just – well yesterday I got really sick, and I didn't know if maybe –"
"No. I'm fine. I hope you didn't give me anything."
Andy chuckled. "I'm sure it would have presented itself by now if I had. Just making sure."
"Yes. Well, I was wondering…" Pause. "I was wondering if perhaps, when you're feeling better, you might like to go to lunch?" Silence. "Andréa?"
"Well, yeah, I guess so."
"Don't sound so enthusiastic."
Andy laughed softly. "I'm just surprised. Lunch sounds great. I'll call you."
"Good." Then she hung up.
Three days later they had lunch at the Ritz, followed by a few hours of sex in the Presidential Suite. When it came time for dinner, Miranda ordered room service. Andy was dismayed to find that the tomato soup that was brought up made her quite nauseous, so she avoided it as best she could.
Dinner was followed by more sex.
Nine weeks into her pregnancy Andy still hadn't taken notice – she was working very hard, after all, but she still made time for Miranda. She'd made time for Miranda as often as she could in the past two weeks.
They'd skipped lunch, and were now lying in bed (naked) facing each other, just talking. They sometimes did this after sex. Andy enjoyed this time spent just as much as all the orgasms, and she thought maybe Miranda did, too.
Miranda gave her a funny look suddenly.
"Roll over. On your back."
She shrugged. "Okay?" She rolled.
Miranda sat up next to her, looking down on her chest. "Are they… bigger?"
"Bigger? Maybe. They get a little tender when –" she froze. And then lept out of bed, scrambling for her calendar and flipping through it rapidly. Her eyes were wild. "Oh my god."
"What is it?"
Andy ran over to the full-length mirror and turned sideways. There it was. Barely. She just stared. Miranda came over and stood next to her, equally unclothed.
"I'm pregnant," she whispered, her hands rounding over the miniscule bump in her belly and her eyes snapping to Miranda's.
"Well. That would make sense, I suppose."
"Who is he?"
She shook her head. "Just some guy at a party. I was drunk. We used a condom but I guess…" She closed her eyes. Her voice was thick with tears. "That was more than a month before you and I first…"
She felt Miranda's hands run down her arms, clasping their hands together. "You should make an appointment with your doctor."
The next time they saw each other Andy was twelve weeks pregnant. Miranda had wanted to give her space to think things through, and then she'd been in London for Fashion Week.
The last three weeks had been torture for Andy because six days into it, sitting on the floor eating ice-cream with her back against the couch watching re-runs of Seinfeld, she realized she'd – stupidly, she reminded herself – fallen in love with Miranda.
Now Andy found herself outside the townhouse. When she finally worked up the nerve to knock, Miranda whipped the door open and pulled her in, kissing her madly. They had sex against the wall next to the stairs. Then they had sex on the stairs.
An hour or so later they finally made it to the bedroom.
"How are you feeling?"
"Uncomfortable." She shifted, the weight was definitely noticeable now.
Miranda laughed. "And you've decided to keep it?"
Andy sighed. "Yeah," she nodded, "Yeah. I mean, I'm twenty-nine. I have a stable income and a pretty decent apartment. And well…"
"I understand. Have you told the father?"
"No. He's not – I just – I'm not." She sighed heavily. "Am I terrible person?"
"No," Miranda reached for her hand. "You could never be a terrible person, Andréa."
When they met up again the next week Andy had fully prepared to speak her mind about all… this. Weren't they supposed to talk about it? Shouldn't there be some actual conversation about the fact that Andy was pregnant and they were having a… thing?
Miranda showed up at her apartment for dinner and they got straight to the sex, as per usual. Andy ordered Chinese for dinner, which Miranda wasn't thrilled about, but Andy just pointed to her growing belly and that was that.
After dinner Miranda handed her a huge bottle of cocoa butter lotion.
"To help with the stretch marks."
"Oh." Duh. "Thanks. I hadn't even thought about that."
"Yes, well, it's not an entirely selfless gift."
Miranda smirked. Then she spent the next half hour applying lotion very thoroughly to every part of her lover's body.
A few days after that Miranda showed up unexpectedly around lunchtime.
"I thought you might want to talk."
Andy just stood there, confused. How is she here in the middle of the day?
"I thought that last time I was here you seemed like you wanted to talk about this, but I… prevented that. So, here I am."
But Andy decided she didn't really want to have this conversation. She decided she'd see where things went.
"No. I'm good if you're good."
Miranda arched an eyebrow to make sure she was getting the whole truth, and then satisfied, smiled brightly. "I'm good."
"I have to get back to work."
Seven weeks later Andy found herself waking up in Miranda's bed. A week ago she'd decided to leave a toothbrush in the bathroom. Miranda mumbled something about coffee and Andy went to find food. Food was about all she could think right now.
"Hey, kid. What do you want for breakfast?"
"Excellent choice." Waffles do sound good.
"Morning, Andy," the other one called.
"Hey, Caroline. Breakfast?"
"What are you making?"
"Waffles." She licked her lips.
"Are you like, moved in here now?"
"Well, are you gonna?"
"Sweetie that was a grammatical mess."
Cassidy rolled her eyes. "Are you going to move in?"
"No idea." She shrugged. She and Miranda didn't talk about those things.
"Do you know if the baby is a boy or a girl yet?"
"Not yet. I have an appointment tomorrow."
She wasn't really concerned, either way.
At thirty weeks Andy was getting irritated, because goddamnit, all she wanted was a decent nights sleep. Instead, she got up and went to the study to read.
She usually ended up flipping through the baby names book, and Miranda often found her asleep on the couch the next morning.
Not tonight, though. Tonight, Miranda got up as well.
"Hey," she smiled. God I love her.
"Find one you like yet?"
"I think so."
"Care to share?" Miranda lay down on the couch next to her.
"So you know I love you, right? I realized today that I haven't said it yet, but, well, I do."
"I know, darling. I love you, too."
The next morning Caroline found them asleep on the couch and decided not to wake them up.
Five weeks later Miranda was working on The Book in her study while Andy sat in her favorite leather chair reading (she'd started maternity leave two days ago) when she suddenly realized I haven't been home in three and a half weeks.
"I haven't been home in over three weeks."
"Mhmm," she looked up. "Can you make sure Cassidy eats something tomorrow afternoon before lacrosse practice? Last time she was nearly catatonic by the time she got home."
"Sure. No problem."
Two days later Andy came back from dinner with Doug to find that the rest of her stuff – in fact all of the things from her apartment – had been brought to the townhouse.
"All my stuff is here."
"Yes I had some people move it. It just seemed easier. You can call your landlord on Wednesday about breaking your lease; apparently he's taking a long weekend with his "kids." Mistress is more like it, if you ask me." She turned back her food.
When she was thirty-seven weeks pregnant Miranda proposed to while they were in bed.
"Will you marry me?" Miranda was stroking her enlarged belly, placing small kisses here and there.
"Who are you asking – me or him?"
"No matter really, whomever answers first will be fine." She smiled.
"Well… do you have a ring?"
Miranda rolled her eyes. "Of course, darling."
"What? Was this a bad idea?"
"Yes! No! I mean," she took a breath and propped herself up on her elbows, which was hard considering her current girth. "I was planning on asking you."
"Well… do you have a ring?"
Miranda sighed. "Well."
"I know." Andy burst out laughing, Miranda soon followed.
She went into labor while they were having sex. It shouldn't have been much of a surprise, as she was creeping up on her due date and they had sex often. Nevertheless, Andy made Miranda finish her off before they went to the hospital.
"Are you serious?"
"Yeah, come on."
"But you're in labor!"
"I know! But the next contraction shouldn't come for a little while – it'll be hours before I actually deliver." Miranda looked stunned. "Miranda! I am not showing up to the hospital aroused out of my mind!"
"Fine. Have it your way." Oh, I will.
As it turned out they just barely made it to the hospital in time. Apparently Andy had started her contractions much earlier but hadn't realized it. Probably because of the sex. That's what Miranda thought, at least.
"Can I hold him?"
"Of course, Miranda. You don't have to ask."
"Here's the birth certificate, ma'am. If I can just have you fill it out I'll be back for it soon." She smiled a very "nurse-y" smile. "He's beautiful by the way. What's his name?"
Miranda glanced over the birth certificate while Andréa was asleep.
Jonah Priestly Sachs was scrawled in Andréa's abysmal handwriting. And, Miranda supposed, because they were them, Andréa had crossed out "father" and written in "mother," under which she had penned Miranda Priestly.
Miranda thought she might wake up her fiancé and ask her about this, but she decided that sleep was more important. They would talk later, or they might not.
When Jonah was twenty months old they got married. Andy had insisted she needed time to lose the baby weight, and while Miranda didn't care about that, she did think it was smart to wait. Newborns weren't the most photogenic, after all.
Andy wasn't sure how everything got pulled together, because she hadn't had much input into the whole thing. She just assumed that Miranda was taking care of it, and that was perfectly fine with her.
Miranda was just as surprised as Andréa that everything was pulled together so beautifully. She'd gone back to work a month after Jonah had been born and hadn't had much time for wedding planning. She wondered when Andréa had found the time, but then, Andréa was just full of surprises. She was sure everything would go very smoothly.
Emily could tell you a thing or two about how the wedding came together, thank you very much.
At the rehearsal dinner the night before the big day, they decided to toast each other. That was what they were supposed to do, right?
"I, uh, I guess I'll go first," Andy smiled. "I don't really know how it happened, but I fell in love with Mirada very quickly. I just didn't find out about it for a while." Laughter. "And I'm not sure how everything else happened, either. I was just living my life and then you were there, and now we're here. It seemed, at times, that there were a lot of little details we should have worked out, but all I ever wanted was to be with you for as long as you'd let me, and here we are. I guess when you love someone as much as I love you, and our family, the details don't really matter."
Emily thought that maybe some details did matter. Quite a lot, actually.
Miranda said something to the same effect, and talked about how she would do everything over again in exactly the same way, as long as it lead to here.
Emily thought that maybe some things deserved a little more attention. Emily was also just a tad bit tipsy, and she'd invited some nice young men to take to her bed later. It didn't matter that the bride and bride didn't know who they were – they wouldn't notice anyway.
When Jonah was thirteen Miranda stepped down as Runway's Editor-in-Chief.
"I'll be home much more. It'll be good for Jonah to have me around. You know how he is with the girls."
"Oh, do I ever."
"Besides, they're giving me a better job."
"As what? CEO of Elias-Clark?"
"Why yes, darling," she smiled. "Did Nigel call and spoil the surprise?"
When Jonah was sixteen Andy won her first Pulitzer Prize. Miranda gifted her a beautiful vintage Dior gown to wear to the award ceremony.
Miranda also, when she heard that they'd only given her wife two tickets, called "some people" and made sure that the whole family would be able to attend.
She had a wonderful time dressing them up, although for some reason Cassidy felt the need to make throw a small fit about it. Well. No matter. Her family was all together, and her beautiful wife was being given a very prestigious prize.
Maybe she should do a spread on Pulitzer Prize Winners? Oh no, that's right, not your job anymore.
One Christmas/Hannukah when they could both make it home, Cassidy and Caroline dropped a surprise on their mothers' laps.
"What is this?"
"For us." – "For Andy." – "To adopt us." – "Obviously."
"Darling, didn't you adopt the girls when they were seventeen?"
"I think they were sixteen."
"No, no. I'm sure they were seventeen. That was the year we went to St. Lucia for spring vacation."
"Wasn't St. Lucia the year –"
"What is it sweetheart?"
"Did you forget to tell us Andy adopted us?"
"Of course not! Girls I'm sure we told you when- you know what Miranda you were right. St. Lucia. We had dinner at that place on the beach. We told you then."
"I told you it was St. Lucia."
When Jonah was twenty-six they decided to move to the Martha's Vineyard house. Of course, they'd still have the townhouse in New York (Andy knew they would spend autumn there – Miranda loved nothing more than the city in autumn). There was also the townhouse in London and the small flat Andy had bought a few years ago in Paris (she liked to go there when she had writer's block, and it was nice to have somewhere homey to stay when they went for Fashion Week).
Miranda had decided it was absurd to even think about moving all of their belongings upstate, so she purchased a second wardrobe for herself and her wife. After all, they'd need clothes in both Martha's Vineyard and New York.
Cassidy had decided to study architecture (which came as a surprise to everyone except Caroline) and was now based in Philadelphia. She was thinking about renovating the townhouse while her parents were away one summer. It'd be like a surprise.
Caroline, who was now a heavy-hitter in the Democratic Party, thought that her parents might not even notice if the house was renovated. After all these years they were so in love with each other, and so unconcerned about anything other than that (and their children, of course), that much went unnoticed.
Jonah, for his part, had become the new, non-gay, Nigel. At Vogue. His mother was not pleased about that. But not to worry, he thought. There were rumors going around that Runway was planning on poaching him in a few years for Editor-in-Chief. He'd happily let them, too.
Emily finally realized that there was more to life than cheese.
A year after "moving" to Martha's Vineyard found Andy and Miranda in Paris. It was spring. Andy loved Paris in the spring.
"Look what I got!" Miranda's face shone with glee. She was holding a joint.
Andy laughed. "Where did you get that!"
"Jerome, from the café around the corner."
Excellent. "Do you have a lighter?"
"No. Don't you?"
When they finally found a lighter (bummed off the guy who lived downstairs), they happily enjoyed their marijuana together in bed, naked and very sweaty, and each thought that it was a good thing the other loved them, because where would I be if she didn't?
Commets are lovely and beautiful