Work Text:
2006
Emily Charlton hated Miranda Priestly.
That's all she could think as she was laying in the hospital bed. They couldn't let her leave yet, despite her protests. She stared at the ceiling, rubbing the annoyingly thin blanket between her fingers.
Andy was going to Paris. Emily wasn't.
It wasn’t fair. Andy didn’t care about Paris like Emily did. She didn’t care about any of it like Emily did.
She wanted to be mad at Andy, more than anything. But she couldn’t. Not when Andy had come to check on her, looking at her with those big brown eyes. It was sickening, how much pity they could hold.
No one could argue with Miranda, especially not Andy. Andy was too kind, and too obedient. She wanted to do right by everyone, but she couldn’t.
She had noticed how hurt Andy had looked when she’d told her to leave. She tried to act like it didn’t affect her. It did.
As she watched Andy leave, Emily finally accepted that she had quite a terrible problem.
She was rather infatuated with Andrea Sachs.
Going back to work felt odd for Emily. For one, her leg was stuck in a stupid boot, and she had to stumble around with crutches. It was humiliating. And two, there was no Andy. Miranda had told her that she’d quit. Emily couldn’t believe it.
It felt quieter without Andy, though in reality it wasn’t. All of these replacement assistants were useless and couldn’t do their jobs right and Emily was giving up hope.
None of the new assistants could deal with Emily’s snarky comments like Andy could, none of them understood the job like Andy did. None of them were like Andy at all. It was becoming quite the problem.
One evening, as she was heading home after taking the book to Miranda’s townhouse, she could’ve sworn she saw Andy standing at the end of the street. Emily froze. She wanted to call out to her, but she couldn’t. The words died on the end of her tongue.
Then the woman was gone.
It was for the best. Emily thought to herself. She’d been thinking about calling her often after the last time they’d spoken. The phone call where Andy asked if Emily wanted her clothes from Paris. Emily had put them straight in her closet.
She’d told herself she wouldn’t call. Andy was likely doing much better without her. That and well, she’d hoped it’d help her forget about her embarrassing and childish crush on the woman.
Emily Charlton wasn’t supposed to like women. That’s what her parents told her when she was a child. They had been a religious family, with very strong and unbreakable beliefs. When they found 16 year-old Emily kissing another girl — she’d only been curious about what it would feel like — they certainly didn’t let her forget it.
Though Emily no longer spoke to her family, she could always hear her parents' voices in the back of her mind, criticising everything she did.
So she’d promised herself she wouldn’t call Andy.
But now, laying in her bed, staring at the ceiling, she couldn’t help but think about it. One call couldn’t hurt.
Without giving it a second thought, she reached for her phone, and dialed the number that may as well have been burnt into the back of her eyelids.
She listened to the phone as it rang. Anxiety twisted in her gut. What was she even going to say? She hadn’t thought about that.
The longer the phone rang, the more she felt like she was going to vomit.
And then — it went to voicemail. Emily’s heart dropped. Andy hadn’t picked up. Of course she hadn’t. She’d wanted to get away from Runway, get away from all of it. Of course she wouldn’t answer Emily’s call. She was foolish to think that Andy would.
Emily threw her phone across the room. After a few minutes she got out a notebook, and started writing.
“Dear Andrea…” She muttered to herself as she scribbled the words down on the page.
Emily was distraught. Miranda was getting rid of her. Sure, she had been different since the car accident, and since Andy left, but she was still capable of doing the work that she’d once done. How could Miranda get rid of her? After everything she’d done for the woman. She’d never been grateful. Never. Emily had tolerated it for so long and this was all she got in return.
She’d show Miranda what she could do. She’d show them all what she was capable of.
She didn’t need any of them, she just needed herself.
2026
Emily Charlton hated men. It was a known fact. So, of course, it was of no surprise that she was laying awake beside her ‘doting’ boyfriend, pondering her life choices. What had been quite a surprise — or perhaps not — was the presence of a certain brunette in her thoughts.
Andrea Sachs was an annoyance. She had no right to just waltz her way back into Emily's life, especially with her being back at Runway. Of course Miranda had taken her back. She’d always had some soft spot for Andy. God, she wouldn’t be surprised if the two of them had slept together — not that she would’ve been jealous if they had, right? Emily was over Andy. It was just some stupid phase.
Was it childish for Emily to still be bitter over everything...? It didn't matter.
Emily had wanted to be friends with Andy. Even after Andy had betrayed her with Paris. Andy wasn't a bad person. She wasn't. So why did she go back to Miranda after everything? Andrea Sachs was loyal to a fault. But not for Emily. Why would she be?
Emily sighed, rolling over so her back was towards Benji. She couldn't imagine she'd be getting much sleep that night.
Breaking up with Benji had been easy. Emily was grateful for that. She was sure the man didn't truly care anyways. Truthfully, it had been the least troubling moment regarding recent events.
Perhaps the moment that had shaken her the most, was when Miranda had exposed her plan.
Emily couldn't stand seeing the heartbroken look on Andy's face. That stupid sad expression and her big brown eyes. Emily couldn’t look at her. This wasn't meant to hurt Andy, it wasn't meant to be revenge against her. It was supposed to be revenge against Miranda.
Returning home to a large empty house had never felt so wrong.
Of course, there were her days with the twins. She adored her children; they were the one good thing in her life. She loved them dearly, and yet, she still felt as though something was missing. She even attempted bleaching her hair — she swore it was not a cry for help — but even that didn’t make her feel any better.
She wasn't quite sure why she couldn't feel content. She had her children, her job, a nice house, what more could she want?
The answer only became obvious to her one night when she was staying up late.
Emily had been going through her closet, just to keep herself busy, when she stumbled across something that had been hidden here for quite some time. Andy's clothes from Paris.
She'd only tried them on once, ignoring how wrong it had felt. She couldn't help but imagine how some of them would look on Andy. Beneath the clothes was a box, one she’d tried to forget about.
She lifted the lid off as she sat on the floor, and picked up the first piece of paper inside. The date on it read 2006. ‘Dear Andrea’ were the first two words. Between the time that Andy had left, and being fired from Runway, she’d found herself writing letters addressed to her old coworker. Letters that she never had any intention of sending.
For a while, it was just her way of coping. Andy had been the closest thing to a friend she’d had in a long time. Then it became a habit, it was simply part of her routine.
When she’d started at Dior, she’d stopped writing them. She’d decided that she wanted a fresh start — a complete reset. It was time to forget Andy, and move on.
Thanks to Andy returning to Runway, none of it went how she had planned. She was quite surprised that Andy had been so happy to see her. However, it still felt like some awful blip in time.
Emily’s hands trembled as she read through the letters — read through her raw and honest emotions — and things she still thought about (irritatingly) to this day.
But one thing in particular made itself clear. Emily was still terribly in love with Andy Sachs.
She’d never called it love before — she’d never had the courage. But now she had nothing more to lose, not even her own dignity.
So, when she picked up her phone, she dialed a number she could never forget.
“Andy,” Emily spoke first, she didn’t necessarily want to hear anything the brunette had to say at the moment, “I didn’t expect you to answer, so that’s a pleasant surprise.”
“Pleasant? Who are you and what have you done with Emily Charlton?” Emily could hear Andy giggling quietly.
“I– Shut up, Andy,” Emily scoffed and rolled her eyes, “Are you free tomorrow? I was…I was wondering if you’d like to get lunch with me.”
“Oh! Uhm,” It sounded like Andy was shuffling something around, “Yeah– Yeah, I can do that.”
“Great. I’ll see you then.” Emily didn’t waste any time before hanging up. She threw her phone down on the floor and took a deep breath.
Well, that would certainly be an interesting lunch.
Emily felt like she was going to throw up. She was sitting waiting for Andy, who was three minutes late. Emily kept telling herself it wasn’t a big deal — Andy would show up.
And just as she was reminding herself for the fiftieth time, there she was. Emily made sure that nothing gave away her relief. She didn’t get nervous.
“Hi.” Emily spoke quickly, her voice quieter than usual.
Andy smiled at her as she sat down, “Cool hair.”
“Thank you,” Emily would never reject a compliment, even if she didn’t think it was completely honest, “Well…I screwed up rather royally.”
“It’s okay.” Of course Andy would say that in her soft understanding voice. Of course Andy would think that it’s okay.
“Really?” How could any of it be okay? Emily tried to get back at Miranda, only for it all to blow up in her face.
Andy just shrugged, “Everyone screws up.”
She really didn’t care. Well this was certainly an interesting turn of events. Emily hadn’t expected it to be that easy. She didn’t think she deserved any of this, especially not Andy’s forgiveness after everything.
“I’m obviously very happy to hear that,” Emily picked the menu off of the table, she’d already ordered, but she needed something to ground herself. Something to remind herself where she was, “Although I’m slightly shocked that you’d compromise your much-touted values for me.”
“Yeah, well. Sometimes you gotta.” Emily did not understand Andrea Sachs at all.
It was surprisingly easy to talk to Andy, even after everything. She’d always found it easy to talk to her. It was one of the things about Andy that she frustratingly loved. They could talk about anything and it felt right. Andy was never judgmental or weird about anything.
Emily was even more surprised to find out that Andy had believed her phone call had been a pocket dial.
“No, I wanted us to be…” Emily took a sharp breath, trying to figure out what she could say that wouldn’t mess everything up, “I thought we could be pals.”
And that’s how it started.
On Emily’s days without her kids, Andy would come over, and the two of them would drink together. Andy would never stay too late, and Emily was almost glad. Between Emily’s feelings, the buzz of the alcohol, and the space between them she wasn’t sure she could stop herself from making any stupid decisions.
It didn’t take long for these nights to become more frequent. Not that Emily was complaining. She was enjoying spending time with Andy outside of a work situation. It was something they were never able to do before.
From once every two weeks, to once a week, then twice a week, to almost whenever they could. Emily was learning a lot about the brunette that was definitely interesting. Not that any of it helped Emily make any sense of Andrea’s mind.
Andy was a lot bolder and more confident when she was drunk. Or maybe that was just something about Andy that Emily just wasn’t quite used to yet. She certainly hadn’t been like this back in 2006. It threw Emily off at first, but it soon became endearing, just like everything else to do with the woman.
She’d also found out that Andy was bisexual. It didn’t necessarily surprise Emily. She had a hunch but well — that was all it had been. Maybe she did have a chance (though she didn’t let that thought linger for too long).
Eventually, Andy would also admit that there had been a time where she’d had an embarrassing crush on Miranda Priestly. However, she admitted that nothing had ever happened between them — Emily wasn’t sure she’d ever felt more relieved. And it strangely made sense that Andrea would be the type of person to be into older women who ordered her around. Perhaps that wasn’t something Emily should think about too hard.
One night when Andy arrived, Emily could tell that she wasn’t her usual cheerful self. It only took a few drinks for the brunette to admit what was wrong.
“Peter broke up with me,” She sighed, leaning back on the couch, “He said that I wasn’t really in the relationship. Whatever that means.”
“Are you kidding?” Emily scoffed, “Admittedly– I wasn’t fond of him. But I do not get how anyone could fumble you like that.”
“Awhhh, Emmm.” Andy looked at her with those sweet brown eyes.
“I mean it. Anyone would be a fool to let you go.” The words escaped Emily's mouth before she could think about it. Fuck. She had definitely drunk too much.
“You mean it?” Andy rested her head on Emily’s shoulder.
Emily gulped, ignoring how her face was burning. It was just the alcohol. “Yes I mean it. You better appreciate it because I will not be saying it again.”
“I appreciate it…” Andy sighed, “Honestly, I’m so done with men. I don’t know why I keep trying.”’
“I don’t know, either.” Emily hummed, taking a sip of the drink in her hands, “I don’t know why I did, god. Men are just…I can’t even think of the right word. In my experience women are just better at everything.”
Emily hardly even processed what she had just admitted. No one knew — or well — Emily had never explicitly told anyone.
“You– What?” Andy stuttered, sitting up to look at Emily properly.
“I– Uh. Well, I suppose the cat’s out of the bag,” Emily looked away.
“I didn’t know this–”
“Well, no one did. That was the idea…” Her heart was pounding in her ears.
She had never put a label to it. Never dared say it aloud. Because then it felt too real. Too dangerous. She could hear her mothers voice in her head reprimanding her. ‘I did not raise you to sin. I did not raise you to be a disgusting dyke. You won’t see that girl again, Emily. I will not allow you to be tempted like this.’
She hadn’t even realised she was trembling until Andy’s hand was placed over hers.
“Em…?” Andy spoke softly, “Are you okay?”
Emily swallowed. It took everything in her not to break when her eyes met Andrea’s. She couldn’t stop herself from glancing down to Andy’s lips, a shaky breath escaping hers. She couldn’t stop herself from entwining her hand with Andy’s. She couldn’t stop the thoughts that kept rushing in.
Kiss her, coward.
“Fuck it…” Emily muttered.
She didn’t give Andrea any time before she crashed their lips together. It felt surreal. Emily’s eyebrows furrowed as Andrea kissed back. Her free hand tangled up into Emily’s bleach blonde hair, pulling her closer.
Everything else in Emily’s mind faded away. She was kissing Andrea Sachs. She was mad at herself for taking this long to do so — she wished she’d pulled the brunette into one of the unused offices at Runaway and kissed her senseless 20 years ago.
There was no time like the present.
Andy pulled Emily onto her, letting her straddle one of her legs. When Emily pulled away in an attempt to regain her breath, Andy’s lips immediately attached to her neck, trailing kisses dangerously low.
Emily shuddered, “Andrea. We are not doing this on my couch.”
She immediately took her words back when Andy looked up at her. She was blushing, her eyes wide and pupils dilated.
“I– fuck–” Emily’s breath hitched. “Nevermind.”
And god was Emily glad she took it back when Andrea tightened her grip on her waist to pull Emily closer. As she did this, Emily stifled a moan as she rocked against Andy’s thigh. Emily didn’t know how Andy was doing this to her. How this was all it took for Emily to throw all her rules out of the window.
Andy was quick to realise what she’d done, and hesitated before doing it again, enjoying the sounds it drew from Emily. Sounds she'd never expected to hear from Emily Charlton of all people.
Emily would've felt horrified if her mind hadn't been so occupied on how good it felt. How gentle Andy's hands were.
She let out a soft gasp as one of Andy's hands slipped under her skirt. When her body tensed Andy was quick to pause what she was doing.
“Let me make you feel good Em…”
And how could Emily argue when Andy looked at her like that. So she let her. She fell against Andy, using her body for support as she slipped two fingers inside her. Emily almost whimpered, and gave herself a moment before moving her hips to ride Andy.
Her breathing was ragged as Andy pressed hot open–mouthed kisses along her neck, her teeth scraping against skin. Emily wasn’t sure she cared if Andy left any marks. She’d never felt this good before. There’d been plenty of hookups and flings that meant nothing, then Frank, then Benji. None of them made her feel like this. None of them got to see her like this.
Emily’s eyebrows furrowed as she picked up the pace. She needed more.
“Shit– Andy…” She gasped, grabbing Andy’s hair, forcing her to look up, “I swear– If you don’t fuck me like you mean it I’ll–”
Before she could finish complaining, Andy almost threw her against the couch, now on top.
“You’re so needy…” Andy cooed. She chuckled when Emily attempted to buck her hips for more friction now that she had stopped. “You act all in charge but you don’t really want that, do you?”
“Andy…” Emily muttered, glaring up at her.
“No,” Andy shook her head, “If you want something, you’ll ask nicely for it like a good girl. And you’re a good girl, right Em?”
Emily swallowed hard as she glanced away. This was humiliating. She didn’t do this– She didn’t beg– but the alcohol was beginning to lower her inhibitions. (She was almost fully sober now. She was telling herself that to make herself feel better.)
“Please Andy… I–” Emily took a deep breath, “Please fuck me… Please Andy… I’ll be good! Please– I can be good for you–”
Andy quickly gave in, even if Emily hadn’t begged as sweetly as that, she likely would’ve given in anyways.
“See Em? That wasn’t so hard was it?” Andy immediately rewarded her by setting a faster pace before adding a third finger.
Emily cursed, her hands finding purchase on Andy’s back. She was sure that if Andy hadn’t been clothed, her nails certainly would’ve done worse damage.
The rougher Andy got with her, the harder Emily found it to think. She’d already given up on words, focusing on the overwhelming feeling of Andy because god was she good at this. She was good, and perfect and gorgeous and everything Emily wanted.
Andy didn’t let up, whispering praise and pressing kisses against any bare skin she could reach. “You’re so good for me, Em. So so good.”
Emily shuddered, feeling the familiar pleasure coil in her abdomen. Her whole body trembled under Andy, tears pricking in her eyes.
“Andy– I’m.. I’m so–” She choked out.
“Let go Em…” Andy’s voice was so soft, “I’ve got you…”
Her body tensed as she was brought to her climax, her vision blurred and her head was spinning. She was breathing heavily as Andy helped her ride out the orgasm, holding her for just a moment afterwards.
Emily squeezed her eyes closed, the reality of the situation setting on her. She wasn’t supposed to do that. She wasn’t supposed to like any woman, let alone Andy. She couldn’t want this. She couldn’t have this. It was wrong. She wasn’t like that. She wasn’t, she wasn’t, she wasn’t–
“Em…?” Andy’s voice pulled her from her thoughts, “Are you okay? That wasn’t too much, was it?”
Fuck. Emily hated how much Andy cared — hated how Andy could get her guard down like this. Emily could do casual. Emily could do meaningless fucks and not care. One-night stands with women were fine. They didn’t mean anything. They were just ways to let out frustration.
But this wasn’t that. This was more. Emily wanted more. That wasn’t okay. She couldn’t have that. She didn’t deserve that. She didn’t deserve Andy.
“No,” Emily’s walls were quick to go back up, quick to block Andy out whilst she still could. She slipped out from under Andy, quickly grabbing the nearest jacket she could find, “I just– I need some air.”
She didn’t turn around. She couldn’t look Andy in the eyes. Instead, she slipped out of the back door.
It was quiet in the garden. Emily pulled the jacket further around her. She didn’t mind the cold, it was the opposite, but it felt like a physical barrier. Something that could ground her. Emily looked up, trying to prevent the tears that she knew would inevitably fall.
It didn’t take long for Andy to follow her. She didn’t expect it to.
“Emily– What the hell,” Andy started, Emily could hear the frustration in her voice, “What was that? We just–” Andy couldn’t even say the word, “And then you just walked away as if it was nothing!”
“What do you want me to say, Andrea?” Emily snapped, glaring at her, “That it was a mistake? That I shouldn’t have done it and it was stupid of me to even let it get this far?”
“What–? No–” Andy stepped back, “Emily. You cannot tell me that it was a mistake, that all of that meant nothing to you. Come on. I know you– That’s not–”
“Do you really know me, Andrea? Really know me?” Emily couldn’t hold it in anymore, “Do you know how I was raised? How I was told my existence was wrong? How hard it is to see everyone else in love and know that you can’t have that? Do you know that at Runway, I thought I’d found a real friend in you? But of course it couldn’t be that easy. I– I loved you, Andy. But I knew it was wrong. I knew I couldn’t do that. So I kept you at arms length all this time thinking I could get over you, but I can’t– I fucking can’t, Andy!”
Emily didn’t care that she was crying now. She didn’t care that she was making a fool of herself. But she couldn’t do this anymore.
“I can’t do this, Andy! I can’t just have you– you’re– God, you’re beautiful and perfect and so so kind, and you deserve someone good. Someone– Someone who isn’t me and I can’t deal with that, okay?”
Andy stood there, a stunned expression on her face. Emily half expected her to walk out there and the, but she didn’t. Of course she didn’t. This was Andy.
Instead, she stepped closer, and wrapped her arms around Emily, pulling her close.
Emily broke down. Her body trembled with sobs as she gave into Andy’s touch. She was exhausted.
“Em, how about you get some rest and we can talk about this in the morning, okay?” She brushed a strand of hair out of Emily’s face and wiped away her tears.
Old Emily would’ve told her to leave — though, old Emily likely wouldn’t have been in this situation at all. But Emily wasn’t like that anymore. And she was tired. So tired. She just wanted to let go.
“Okay…” Emily nodded, letting Andy lead her back indoors.
Despite everything, Andy insisted that she’d sleep on the couch. Emily felt bad, but tried not to think about it. Instead, her mind was playing her own words back to her like a broken record. Did this really mean that much to Andy too?
Emily felt just as exhausted in the morning, though her mind felt a little more clear. She hadn’t been lying last night. She’d spoken her mind, but well, she wished she’d done it in a nicer way. Andy hadn’t deserved any of that, she hadn’t done anything wrong. It was all Emily.
Now, sitting beside Andy again, she felt the nerves and guilt getting to her.
“Did you mean what you said last night?” Andy glanced over at her, “About loving me since we worked together?”
Emily took a deep breath as she nodded, “I want to think that everything I said was true. I just could’ve worded it better.”
She kept her eyes on her lap, struggling to meet Andy’s eyes.
“Emily. You know–” Andy paused, “I loved you– I love you too.”
Emily’s head snapped up, her eyes wide, “What?”
Andy loved her. Andrea Sachs. Loved her. Oh.
Andy nodded, “I wouldn’t have done what we did yesterday if I didn’t. I’m– I’m not one for one-time things.”
“Why?” Emily’s eyebrows furrowed.
For a moment, Andy’s expression mirrored her own, “What do you mean why?”
“Why me? I mean– I was such a bitch to you and well– I still am. I just– I’m not a good person, Andy. I’m not what you deserve.” Emily shifted uncomfortably. She hated these conversations. She hated being vulnerable. But this was Andy.
“Don’t say that, Em.” Andy placed a hand on her knee. Emily finally looked her in the eyes. “You don’t tell me what I deserve. Okay? Emily, I love you. I want you. I mean– sure, you weren’t the nicest to me at the start but– It was kinda attractive– And you’ve grown since then. You’re an amazing person. An amazing friend. An amazing mother. I admire you so much.”
“Andy…” Emily exhaled, struggling to find the right words. She’d never expected to be in this situation.
“I know you’ve been through a lot, Em. You didn’t deserve any of it. But you deserve to be happy. You can’t keep ruining it for yourself. And…I want to give you what you deserve. I want to be here for you. I want to be here for the kids. I want you.”
Emily couldn’t stop the small smile that slipped onto her face. Andy was always so stubborn, “It won’t be easy. Dealing with me won’t be easy.”
Andy shook her head, “I wouldn’t expect it to be, and that’s okay. It’s never easy but– I want to try. I want to be with you, if you’ll have me?”
Emily trembled as she reached out to squeeze Andy’s hand. It wouldn’t be easy, but when were their lives easy? It was hard to believe, hard to trust, but if Andy truly wanted her, then why should she keep running? For now, she would let herself have this. For now, it could all be okay.