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Andy thought she has been doing rather well on the Miranda-front lately. Always on time and prepared for each of Miranda’s whims. Even Emily had seemed impressed. No chewing-outs lately and Miranda had even allowed Andy to ride along with her on the elevators. It was still a rather awkward experience, standing next to the imposing woman in such a secluded space. After the first harrowing attempt at conversation, Andy had learned to be quiet.
But she still wasn’t sure if Miranda just liked her or was waiting for an excuse to fire her. Andy hoped it was the former, but the editor did always look sort of… expectant, and when they arrived at the right floor she seemed almost disappointed, as if she had been expecting something from Andy.
But that was probably Andy’s overactive imagination. For example, just yesterday she could have sworn Miranda had been staring at her ass! Totally ridiculous, as if Miranda would deign to look at Andy that way.
But with these developments it didn’t come as a surprise that she got invited to come along to dinner with Miranda.
“Andrea, clear my schedule for tonight. Roy will pick you up at eight. Dress nicely.”
Later, even Roy hadn’t seemed to know what has gotten into Miranda. Upon arriving at the restaurant, it seemed Miranda still managed to surprise Andy that day.
There was no one else at their table. Their candle-lit table. Where Miranda Priestly, and just Miranda Priestly, was already waiting.
Andy couldn’t help but break out in a sweat. Maybe this was the day she’d get fired, with Miranda sweet-talking her up, to harden the blow.
But when Miranda stood up, it was not to stab Andy -really Andy? As if she would do that in such a public setting- it was to greet Andy with two air-kisses. Andy’s head started spinning.
Quickly sitting down across the other woman, she picked up the menu. Everything was expensive enough that if Andy were to pay, she’d be back to instant ramen for the rest of the year.
Looking up, slightly panicked, she met Miranda’s eye. Miranda was studying her intently. A gaze reserved for the Book, not for Andy. Andy mentally preened herself for her choice of clothing anyway. She had chosen a simple black dress, reaching mid-thigh, her hair up in a simple ponytail, not unlike what she often wore to work. And, of course, the Chanel boots.
“I recommend the steak with the red wine. Chef’s speciality.” Of course Miranda would know what to order without looking at the menu.
Small talk was surprisingly easy with Miranda. The woman was actually really funny. It wasn’t before long that they had both finished their meals. Though neither made a move to immediately leave, instead opting to spend some extra time talking with each other.
The whole time Andy had a hard time keeping eye-contact with Miranda, instead looking at the creamy skin on display. The red silk of the dress Miranda had chosen that evening clung to her skin, and showed quite a bit of cleavage. The realisation that Miranda had chosen this dress for dinner with Andy, made her throat dry out.
When Andy finally managed to drag her eyes to meet Miranda’s, she found a small smirk playing on the older woman’s lips.
“Would you perhaps be interested in continuing this conversation with a night cap at the townhouse?”
And so Andy found herself lounging on a couch, slightly buzzed, with Miranda’s feet resting in her lap. It had been a very enjoyable evening indeed. Andy was convinced this was a date, actually, and if Miranda insisted otherwise, well, Andy just hoped it wouldn’t come to that. She had no idea if she would survive that.
When Andy looked at the clock, she had to do a dramatic double take. It was well past midnight. Remarking on that, Miranda started protesting against the very idea of Andy going out at this time.
“But Miranda, I really have to go home, we have work in the morning!”
“Nonsense, you are not getting kidnapped on the way home. You’ll stay here, everything you might need is here. No need getting that rat-infested subway.” Andy decided against mentioning that rats were not the worst thing she had seen there. She also decided against telling Miranda she was slurring her words slightly, and how adorable Andy found it.
“I’ll take a cab then. I’m sure there are still many driving around…” Andy trailed off, noticing the glare being thrown her way. “Or not.”
Situating herself in the guest bed, she wondered if each room was as luxurious as this one. It was decoded with warm colours, warmer than you might expect from Miranda. A big plasma television adorned the wall, and bookcases lining the others. In the far corner a dresser stood, filled with pictures of the twins.
Deciding that her one goal in life would be affording a room like this, Andy conked out. The last thing she noticed, was the door opening and closing, and bare feet padding over towards the bed.
Within the first three seconds of waking up, Andy realised three things. One, she was slightly hungover. Two, she was not in her own bed, and three, based on the weight on her chest she was back home, with her old cat lying on her again.
Bartholomew, a name which she had chosen when she was eight thank you very much, had always had a habit of waking Andy up too early by deciding that Andy was The Spot for a pre-breakfast nap. It hadn’t bothered her a lot back then, but now she was kind of worried about cat-hairs on the expensive couture she had borrowed from the Closet.
Andy moved her hand to pet her beloved cat. Speaking about couture, what would Miranda be doing right now? Probably still sleeping. After their dinner they had… What had they done after dinner?
It suddenly came back to Andy. The way she hadn’t been able to keep her eyes off Miranda in that dress, the casual way Miranda had all but draped herself over Andy back at the townhouse, and Miranda forcing Andy to spend the night. The latter resulting in Andy sleeping in what she had assumed to be a guest room. Which it upon second thought most likely wasn’t.
Maybe, if she was lucky it was Patricia lying on top of her. Andy snorted. Yeah right. She would probably get crushed by the big dog instead.
Moving very carefully, she managed to crane her head to look at who was lying on her chest. Please don’t let it be Miranda, please don’t let it be Miranda, please-
It was Miranda. Who must have woken up at some point and come to the realisation that she wasn’t alone, going by the way those piercing blue eyes were now looking at Andy.
If Andy hadn’t been genuinely afraid for her own life, she would have been able to appreciate how adorable Miranda looked, with her hair mussed from sleep and eyes wide in surprise. When those eyes shifted into something resembling a glare instead (Miranda must still be sleepy if that was genuine affection in her gaze), Andy found that she had very much appreciated the sight, opposed to the glare being thrown her way now. Miranda was going to kill her. Or worse, fire her.
“And what, pray tell, do you think you’re doing?” Miranda’s voice was still husky from sleep. Andy could feel her throat dry out.
Swallowing, Andy fumbled for an answer, “I ah, I actually don’t know? I mean, I- I just woke up and I don’t really remember last night, and definitely not falling asleep…” Andy stopped when she realised she had started rambling.
Miranda’s eyebrow had raised somewhere during Andy’s rambling. It kind of surprised Andy how calm Miranda seemed about the situation. She had expected the editor to be freaking out by now. In the Miranda way obviously, which included a lot of threats of getting fired and blacklisted.
“No, I know very well how we ended up in my bed, that’s not my problem. I’m just curious as to what exactly you think you’re doing with your hand, Andrea,” Miranda practically purred Andy’s name.
It was then that Andy realised that this whole time she had thought she had been petting her cat. Except, said cat had died about a year earlier. She had been petting Miranda Priestly’s hair this whole time.
“Oh my god! I am so sorry, Miranda! I didn’t realise, I’m really sorry, I should…” she made to withdraw her hand, but Miranda beat her to it, grabbing Andy’s wrist in a tight grip. It seemed she had other plans.
“And where do you think you’re going? I did not realise I had told you to stop,” a light pink was dusting Miranda’s cheeks. Andy couldn’t believe her luck and quickly complied.
She returned to running her fingers through Miranda’s hair. Andy had always assumed Miranda’s hair would be soft, but not this soft. It was downright silky, like running hr fingers over the most expensive velvet.
Miranda melted into Andy’s touch. Revealing in the power in her grasp, Andy decided to start massaging Miranda’s scalp. The woman let out a little whine at that. Miranda quickly turned, burying her head in Andy’s shoulder, to hide her blush. Andy saw it anyway. She decided that no matter what Miranda might do to her later, right now she was going to enjoy this power she seemed to have over the other woman.
They stayed like that until the sun fully rose, wrapped together in their own little cocoon. Both were perfectly content, and Andy prided herself on having drawn a couple more sounds from Miranda.
When Miranda got out of bed, Andy failed to cover her whine, and quickly hid her face in a pillow, mortified. At least the pillow still smelled of Miranda.
Hearing Miranda chuckle, Andy lifted her head from the pillow to look at the smiling woman.
“I expect to see you tonight, for a proper date.”
————————————ten years later————————————
Waking up snuggled to Miranda had become such a constant in her life, that when Andy woke up and didn’t feel the other woman next to her, she panicked slightly. Luckily she didn’t have to search long for Miranda.
Miranda, wearing her favourite grey bathrobe, was standing at the foot of their bed, holding a small box with a gorgeous pendant lying in it. The golden ring on her left hand shimmered in the light of the morning sun.
“Happy ten year anniversary, darling.”