Work Text:
So it was finally here. The September Issue was done and everybody was partying hard courtesy of Miranda’s deep pockets. Every year she threw this party from the top floor of the Elias-ClarkeBuilding and every year it got bigger. Andy wondered if anyone but her knew that Miranda planned and paid for this all by herself. No one helped her, yet as far Andy knew, everyone assumed that this was a Runway event planned by some random idiot. But it wasn’t. This was all Miranda and this was her way of saying ‘thank-you’ without actually having to say the words. Because God…if she dared say that more than once a year even to Andy, the Runway logo would start to crack right there on the face of the magazine. And if she said ‘thank-you’ to all these people, one-by-one? Well then the entire Elias-Clarke building would probably crumble; so a party really was for the best and clearly not as dangerous.
With a glass of wine in hand, Andy headed over to one of the many windows that looked out over the city. She really wasn’t in the mood for much partying. It had been going on for a while now but everyone was still going strong. Except for her…and expect for Miranda, who had disappeared some time ago. Too bad the weather was so crappy or Andy would just leave now and walk home. She would wait it out a while longer though.
It had been raining for days off and on…even now it was moving in stages; ranging from a light drizzle to an all out downpour. Maybe it meant something was coming. Andy rolled her eyes at her reflection in the glass. Her mind loved to play tricks on her. It was all that writing and daydreaming she did that never really got her anywhere. If you stop and think about it long enough, anything can mean something is coming…anything.
Like the breaking of a marriage engagement; what exactly was coming because of that little event? Andy didn’t know but surely something was on the horizon. And the way it happened made her feel like in some small way; it was her fault. But was she upset or apologetic? Nope. Weston was all wrong for Miranda. Well any man was wrong for Miranda but this just seemed twice as bad as anything else. The guy gave Andy the creeps and didn’t even come close to treating Miranda the way she should be treated…the way Andy did and would treat her if given the chance.
To make matters worse Miranda didn’t seem that into him to begin with. Not that she ever seemed into anybody but Andy could just tell something wasn’t right. It was almost as if Miranda had mentally checked out and just went along with it. She was quiet, she was withdrawn…Miranda was depressed. Big time. Yet no one saw it. Not even Nigel. So then—was it all her imagination?
No, it wasn’t her imagination and no everything was not okay because four weeks ago, a few days after Miranda agreed to marry Weston The Creep, she and Miranda were in the car late one night with the privacy screen up and Andy asked her… “Miranda…why are you doing this?” Yep, that’s right! Andy just came right out and asked Miranda in her own little quiet way. She of course expected to get chewed up and spit out like yesterdays lunch but no…Miranda looked Andy right in the eye and said “I don’t know.” And the way she said it was weird, just weird. Almost like that was the very first time she had actually given the idea the attention it deserved.
But anyway, the very next day Miranda called it off and Weston The Creep was history. Just like that. Andy nearly jumped for joy but refrained. Miranda was not happy. This turn of events, this change of her mind, did not improve anything at all. It just took one person out of the equation so Andy was basically right back to square one, still trying to figure out what was wrong with Miranda. At least he was gone though.
To hell with it...there was absolutely no point in being at this stupid party, Andy thought as she set her now empty glass on a near-by table. She was ready to go and to hell with the rain too. If she could find something in The Closet that was even close to a rain-coat then she was walking to the subway. Forget taking a cab. In fact she was going to change all together. Somewhere in there was a pair of jeans that Nigel could live without, she was sure of it. Andy nodded her goodbyes to a few people that bothered to notice her departure and headed down the elevator to the Runway offices.
Thank God it was quite. With everyone in party mode, no one was in here…hell; half the lights weren’t even on. Andy made her way to The Closet in the dark and began picking through a stack of jeans. She changed quickly, throwing on a Runway logo t-shirt, the jeans, and a pair of boots that had long ago been discarded. Nobody would miss those either. From there she dug around some more and found a trench coat and tossed her own clothes into Nigel’s office for safe keeping. Now it was time to get the hell out of here and go home. Chinese take-out and a bottle of wine were most definitely in her future. Surely that would make her feel better. Even just a little bit.
When she went around the corner and was just about to pass Miranda’s domain…it finally registered that the glass door to Miranda’s office was open. Then she saw her...Miranda was standing at the window behind her desk with her back to the door. The fingers of her left hand were lightly tracing the rain drops as they made their way down the glass only to disappear and be replaced by more. It was an endless process, not unlike Runway itself. Never-ending…always moving and replacing itself with yet another issue to produce.
Andy decided it was time to stop having philosophical revelations when she heard Miranda’s voice.
She was singing. It was very faint and Andy had to put her ears into overdrive to hear it but it was happening and it was beautiful. Yet even without that beautiful sound there was always Miranda. She was beautiful without anything else added. Out of the blue Andy suddenly came to a decision. She had to go to Miranda. There was just no other way. She had to go to her.
Andy took off her coat, laying it along with her bag very quietly on the floor and with silent steps she made her way into Miranda’s office. There was music playing softly on the laptop, mixing in with the sound of rain hitting the windows.
Just as Andy reached the desk she could tell by Miranda’s change in posture that she knew someone was there. And yes…as Andy came around the desk, Miranda turned her head ever so slightly but didn’t say a damn word. She just turned back to the window and kept tracing those elusive raindrops.
Andy stopped about a foot from her and leaned against the window ledge where Miranda stacked all those artsy books that she really didn’t give a shit about. It was all for show. “You have a beautiful voice, Miranda.”
“I doubt that.” She said quietly and followed her reply by continuing with the song but only humming it now. It was still beautiful.
There was a lump in her throat but Andy kept going. It would be better to just say and do what she wanted to from here on out. After all, she’d made up her mind and if it cost her her job then whatever. Getting fired would be better than walking out right now. She simply couldn’t hold it in any longer. “I’m sorry you’re hurting.” Andy didn’t exactly know all the reasons, although she certainly had a few ideas, but there was no doubt in her mind that Miranda was indeed hurting. On several levels.
“Hurting? Is that how you would define it?”
“Yes. I wish you would talk to me…tell me. You know you can, don’t you?” Andy began tracing her own set of rain drops that were just next to Miranda’s shoulder.
“I do not require your sympathy, Andrea, and there is really nothing to discuss.”
Ah, she would be stubborn to the very end. “You don’t trust me?”
“Your observation skills will never cease to amaze me. I trust you; but talking about this will not improve anything.”
“I think you’re wrong.” Andy moved six inches closer and continued to move her fingers over the window. She noticed that Miranda’s hand had stilled in its motion yet she kept her palm against the glass with fingers spread as if she was trying to cover as much of the surface as possible.
“I’m sure you do. Are you going to force me to talk?”
As if she could force Miranda to do anything. “No, but when you’re ready I’ll still be standing right here.” Taking a deep breath and saying a quick prayer, Andy moved forward the last six inches and with bravery she didn’t know existed, slipped both her arms around Miranda’s waist. This had better work because beyond it – Andy had no idea what to do from here. All she knew was that she needed to comfort Miranda because in comforting her, she would be comforting herself as well.
By some miracle Miranda did not withdraw, but her body stiffened in retaliation to this foreign touch because remember…you don’t touch Miranda Priestly. Her waist was obviously so small that Andy’s arms were wrapped around her in a very tight and secure way. It felt good and hopefully would serve to keep Miranda from going anywhere too quickly. Andy instinctively knew that Miranda probably had not been held like this, by someone who meant no harm, in possibly…ever maybe.
For a while they just stood there, in the darkness with only the rain, the music and their breathing. Then another song came on. It was very familiar to Andy and apparently Miranda too. She started to hum again. Andy wanted her to sing but wasn’t about to ask. Like so many other things, if Miranda wanted to sing she would, if she didn't she wouldn’t.
“I like this song.” Andy said and unable to help herself she kissed Miranda’s shoulder and almost cried when Miranda’s body relaxed because of it. Maybe everything was going to be okay after all. For both of them. Since that seemed to work out without anyone dying, Andy rested her cheek against the side of Miranda’s head and kissed her hair, thankful for their height difference. Miranda didn’t have any shoes on so that was an added advantage as well. For some reason being a bit taller than Miranda had always given Andy a strange but warm feeling.
“I like it too. I would say it is one of her best but she is hardly done.” Miranda let go of the window and rested both her arms on top of Andy’s, slowly sliding her hands over them as they traveled to their resting place, gently cupping Andy’s elbows. “I’m old Andrea…”
Andy kissed her shoulder again “Numbers are just that, numbers.”
“I agree…but I feel a hundred. Yet there are some things that I am only just now figuring out. You were right, you know. Even though you never actually said it, he wasn’t right for me…none of them were. What was I thinking?”
“I have no idea Miranda but thank God you finally figured it out.” Andy kissed her cheek this time and Miranda leaned into it just enough to make her do it again. This was definitely working.
“Will you help me, Andrea? Will you help me…?” Miranda let go of Andy’s elbows and lifted her hands to her own face, rubbing her temples and her forehead. “Lately I just…I have no idea. I feel like I’m going crazy. Losing direction…Nothing can make me right. I kept myself blind to so many things for so long and now?” Miranda put one hand back on Andy’s arm and kept the other one free, using it to gesture into the air. “Somewhere between you and Weston and this goddamn magazine, I have lost my mind, among other things. But at the same time I feel, in some ways, better.” Miranda moved her free hand back down and rubbed Andy’s forearms again. “I am making absolutely no sense. See, I have lost my mind. You asked me what’s wrong and I cannot even tell you in a way that seems reasonable.”
“Hm…” Andy kissed the shell of Miranda’s ear and moved down the side of her neck slowly, whispering between those delicate kisses, “You’re making sense and you haven’t lost your mind. I think you just need to know that you belong somewhere…besides here in this building. I think you need to know you have more.”
“You might be right.” Miranda leaned her head back a bit and sank against Andy, truly resting in her arms.
“Yeah, I might be. As for Stephen…and Weston The Creep…those were for sure moments of insanity but like I said…you figured that out. You’re not a lost cause.” Andy smiled in the dark and pulled Miranda against her tighter, if that was even possible.
“Perhaps your observation skills aren’t as far gone as I thought. Weston The Creep? Really?” Miranda held her hands now, rubbing her thumbs over Andy’s knuckles repeatedly.
“Yep, Weston The Creep. He can’t take care of you like I can Miranda.”
Miranda inhaled and exhaled as if she was cleansing herself then turned in Andy’s arms. “I know…I know.” Cupping the side of Andy’s head with one hand and putting her other arm around Andy’s neck, Miranda leaned in and kissed her. It was very slow and very gentle and full of meaning. Andy held in the urge to go faster, knowing that this was what Miranda needed and probably what she needed too, regardless of what her brain was telling her at this very moment. Both of Miranda’s hands were now holding her head in place and she moaned when Andy sucked at her bottom lip. Andy had always wanted to do that.
When Miranda’s tongue teased her own their kiss deepened as did the passion between them. Her hands were on Miranda’s hips now, gripping them tightly and pressing them firmly together. Moments later Miranda finally broke away. “This will not be one sided.” She said while trying to catch her breath. “I am fully capable of taking care of you as well and plan on doing so. In many ways.” Even in the dark Andy could feel Miranda blush and kissed both her cheeks.
“I know you are and I know you will…in many ways.” Now Andy was blushing and cleared her throat to continue. “Are you hungry? I know a great place with Chinese take-out, cheap wine and a semi-comfortable bed. The bed…of course is an…optional enjoyment.” While she waited for Miranda to answer, Andy wrapped her up tight in a hug that Miranda returned.
“Just don’t leave me…help me find myself again, Andrea. If you can do that then hideous take-out is quite acceptable…as is the cheap wine and the semi-comfortable bed.”
“Well then we should go so I can get started.” She laughed.
Miranda kissed her again then stepped away, slipping on her shoes. “Yes, let’s go…and look.” She pointed to the window. “It’s not raining now…let’s walk to the subway. I’ve never done that before.”
“Never? You’ve lived here how long and you’ve never taken the subway?” Andy followed her out and grabbed her things off the floor.
“Never. You have a lot of work ahead of you, darling.” They slipped on their coats and quickly made their way to the elevator where Miranda, impatient as ever, pressed the button about ten times; more than ready to experience hideous take-out, cheap wine and that semi-comfortable bed.
THE END