DISCLAIMER: The Devil Wears Prada and its characters belong to Lauren Weisberger and 20th Century Fox. No infringement intended.
SPOILERS: All of TDWP (if you haven't seen it yet, why are you reading the fic?), The Princess Bride but only a little bit from the beginning and the phrase *"True Love", and that one scene in Havoc.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
The Dread Pirate Miranda
Andy Sachs knew the exact moment she realized her attraction to her boss, Miranda Priestly. It was at the Runway benefit. At the last minute, Miranda demanded that Andy attend to backup Emily who was suffering from the worst cold known to model-kind. Andy spent all afternoon frantically trying to memorize the sizable guest list in order to help prompt Miranda should the need arise. Names, faces, employment, family relationships, affairs, minor felonies all fought for space in Andy's brain until she feared they would all run together in a jumbled mass. It didn't help that her dress, a stunning black off-the-shoulders number, while gorgeous even to her untrained eye, made walking nearly unmanageable. Stairs were impossible and the thought of using a bathroom ludicrous. But Andy knew that Miranda never gave an order she didn't fully expect to see realized and besides, Emily really did need the help, for a change.
It was the moment Emily froze, unable to place the man walking toward Miranda. Andy waited for Emily's memory to flash, then after several long seconds realizing that the flash wasn't going to happen, stepped up to whisper into Miranda's ear the name of the man, his occupation and a few salient details regarding the woman with him. To everyone else in the room, had they been paying attention, Miranda hadn't moved. But from Andy's perspective just behind Miranda and over her shoulder, Andy saw the telltale crinkle in Miranda's eye betraying her displeasure at being kept waiting for the information. Andy astonished herself when the details of the man's personal life flowed unbidden from a dark recess of her memory as she recited from rote memory all the notes attached to Embassador Franklin's profile. When she finished she stayed in her position a moment longer than necessary before resuming her place. In that moment, she caught a glimpse of Miranda's pale white bosom. Miranda's dress was low cut in the front to display said bosom to it's best advantage but was stiff enough that as Miranda leant back slightly to hear Andy's whisper, the dress stayed put. Meaning Andy got a bird's eye view of one pink tipped breast peeking out from under the black décolletage. Andy was shocked to see that, as she spoke into Miranda's ear only inches away, the rose colored nipple hardened to a point. At the same instant, Miranda's movement caused a faint hint of her perfume to waft through the air. Andy inhaled lightly, bringing the scent with her as she resumed her customary place. Her eyes widened at what she had just smelt and saw. The breast in question, unlike the majority in the room, was natural, full and soft. Miranda's perfume was expensive, spicy and exquisite. The combination caused an immediate reaction in Andy. Andy knew she had never smelled anything so intoxicating and had never seen anything that made her react the way she did. She felt giddy and wanted nothing so much as to caress that skin, so smooth and perfect. In her mind's eye, she saw herself bend her head to capture that nipple in her mouth. The thought made her gasp in surprise. Emily's head whipped around to stare at her in shock. Miranda, as usual, was inscrutable.
For the rest of the evening, Andy stayed back unless Emily signaled that she needed help remembering a name, face or title. In those few cases, Andy would convey the information to Emily through soundless pantomime or hastily whispered clues rather than risk going too near Miranda again. Since they had studied the same material, this system worked out well for both assistants, and as long as she got the desired results, Miranda didn't seem to care who fed her the hints she needed. Soon enough, Miranda's greetings to everyone of importance petered out and Emily allowed Andy to leave. When she ran into Christian on the steps outside the museum, she was sorely tempted to take him up on his offered introductions more for the chance to see Miranda again than for any possible career advancement. But, after a moment's consideration, Andy realized that the best place for her that night was far away from the tempting Ms. Priestly. Far, far away. So she went home. To Nate and a cupcake and the beginning of the end of their relationship.
For the next few months, Andy tried to ignore any hints of attraction to Miranda. It was silly after all. Miranda was her boss, and while she showed slightly more interest in Andy as an assistant with possibilities after the benefit, it was never anything more than professional attention, unrealistic expectations notwithstanding. (The unreleased Harry Potter manuscript, indeed!) Besides, Miranda was straight. Married, more than once. A mother of twins. Even if she was into women, Miranda had her choice of them, the most beautiful women in the world routinely clacked and clattered their way down Runway's halls or literally displayed themselves to Miranda in various stages of undress during run-throughs and photo shoots.
However, for all that, Andy was aware of being watched by her employer. With Nigel's help and the fantastical availability of what Andy privately called "The Magic Clothes Closet", Andy transformed her wardrobe from one of an industrious college graduate to glamorous magazine executive, however lowly. As she did so, she noticed that just as the days were a bit longer as spring approached, so too did the glances Miranda spared for her. And not just for her clothing. A new choice in bang length earned a harsh sniff while an increased in the amount of eyeliner to something just short of Cleopatra's brought a nearly imperceptible nod of approval. Andy found rather than calling out the answers to Miranda's barked orders, she was just as likely to enter the inner office to alert Miranda to specific minutia, only to enjoy the feel of Miranda's eyes on her as she walked back out to her desk. If her ass swayed just a bit more, that was surely the fault of the shoes, right? By the time the Paris trip rolled around, Andy had almost convinced herself that Miranda reciprocated her feelings. It did go a long way toward explaining the sudden change in Emily's status in the office hierarchy since it was clear to anyone with eyes that Emily was the dream assistant while Andy was still only marking time until she could legitimately leave, her resume nicely padded.
Then came that night in Miranda's Parisian suite. The revelation of her impending divorce shocked Andy less than the sight of Miranda looking...well, small. Wrapped up tightly in her gray robe, barefoot of all things, curled up on the couch rocked Andy's sense of all that was right with the world. Miranda was many things-ruthless, powerful, cruel when need be but never small, never vulnerable. Or resigned as if she was too weary to face the coming media blitz regarding the dissolution of her marriage. Andy wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around Miranda, bury her head in that mane of silver hair and hold her all night, absorbing as much of the pain as she could. But months of on-the-job training did Andy in good stead and once her offer of solace was rejected, Andy knew what Miranda needed most: competence. So they went over the seating chart one last time as if nothing had changed, both knowing that in some way, everything had. The next day, Miranda managed to shock Andy once again with her blatant betrayal of Nigel in order to keep her own job. Miranda's explanation in the car did little to assuage Andy's feeling of righteous indignation, particularly when her own complicity was raised. Realizing the truth of Miranda's words, if not their intent, Andy left. Dumped her phone in the fountain. Transferred her plane ticket and left Paris, hoping to never see it, or Miranda, again. Or so she thought.
Two weeks later, Andy found herself standing across the street from the Elias Clark building. After her successful interview with The New York Mirror and hearing from Greg the remarks made by Miranda on her behalf, she found herself wandering aimlessly, blissfully evaluating what Miranda had said and the real meaning beneath. Aimlessly she thought until she looked up at the facade of the imposing publishing building. When the object of her thoughts walked stridently into view, complaining as usual into her phone, Andy laughed outright. And when her cheerful, wry wave and smile did nothing to provoke a response, Andy laughed all the more. But as Miranda settled into the sleek Mercedes, Andy was certain she saw Miranda not only smile brightly but also laugh her own small laugh. Knowing she was the cause of such uncommon mirth brought Andy a flash of inspiration and insight. It wasn't all her. The attraction she felt for Miranda was not as one sided as she suspected. Andy knew deep inside herself that Miranda shared her feelings. Now the trick was to get Miranda to admit it.
Later that evening, Andy sat restlessly on her dilapidated couch pondering the best way to approach Miranda. A direct confrontation suited Miranda's brisk style but also gave her the upper hand in deflecting Andy. And yet, anything more subtle could just as easily be ignored as acknowledged. Unable to concentrate clearly, Andy poured herself another glass of wine. Turning on the television, she attempted to jump start her brain, "Something mindless to watch will get the old creative juices flowing," she said to herself. Flipping through the channels, she was tempted to stop at America's Next Top Model but decided it was too close to the topic to be of any help. "Something totally opposite of fashion." she thought. "Aha, The Princess Bride! Perfect. Funny, silly, and nothing fashionable about it." She settled onto the couch to watch the trials and tribulations of Princess Buttercup, Wesley, Inigo Montoya and all the other fairy tale characters. She was just getting into the story when something Peter Falk as the narrator said struck a chord. Something about how whenever Wesley said "As you wish" to Buttercup, he was really saying, "I love you." Andy sat up on the couch, grabbed the DVR remote and rewound to watch the sequence again. That was it! Whooping and dancing around the room, Andy felt elated. At least until she danced a little too close to the coffee table and banged her toe on the corner. But even the searing pain from her foot did little to dampen her enthusiasm. Now all she had to do was come up with the details of her plan.
The next day, Andy waved herself past the Elias Clark security. Her sunny disposition while working for Miranda left a helpful legacy among all the staffers who were more than happy to open the burnished gold gate and hold the elevator doors for her. "A little niceness goes a long way, " thought Andy happily to herself. "Now to channel a bit of that Miranda confidence." Andy took a deep breath as she pushed open the doors to Runway itself. Acting, though certainly not feeling it, as though she owned the place she strode purposely through the hallways toward Miranda's office. She timed her visit to coincide with Emily's lunch break but was still relieved to see that the left side desk was empty. A pale girl with long blonde hair sat at her former desk with the same tremulous, frightened air Andy remembered so well in herself. Breezing into Miranda's office, she briskly announced, "Miranda will be here in a few minutes. I would go get her a new latte now before she realizes she'll need another one to get through the afternoon. I'll try to keep her occupied until you get back." The girl's eyes grew wide at the thought of a caffeine-free Miranda, and bolted out the door.
Andy wandered through the stark brightly lit office for a moment before lowering herself into Miranda's chair, breathing deeply the lingering scent of perfume and leather. Closing her eyes, she went through the details of what she was going to say, swiveling in the chair side to side. Before she quite realized it, Andy was swirling around in the chair nearly out of control. A crisp throat clearing jerked her to a sudden stop. When she opened her eyes, Andy saw Miranda staring at her aghast. "Andrea." The low voice sounded slightly choked but the unique pronunciation was the same, much to Andy's delight. She beamed at the other woman but stayed silent, taking in the sight of the woman before her, unable to look away. Vintage Chanel dress. Louis Vuitton shoes. Immaculate silver hair curling just so over the left brow which, at the moment, was raised to its highest level. Neither woman spoke for a long moment. Andy finally sat back deeper into the chair, feeling the calmest she ever had in the presence of this formidable woman. Which wasn't saying much.
"Hello Miranda." she finally said, thankful that her voice didn't betray the butterflies stampeding in her stomach.
"Is there some reason my assistants have all disappeared?" Miranda asked, not moving from where she stood.
"Emily is pretending to have lunch though we both know she won't actually eat anything." Andy replied, " and the new 'Emily' is off getting your Starbucks." Andy swivelled in the chair, "I assume you call her 'Emily' and not 'Andy'? Certainly not 'Ahhhn Dray Uhh' eh?"
"Excuse me?" Old habits died hard and at Miranda's icy tone, Andy stopped swiveling abruptly. Taking a deep breath, she steeled her resolve to not let Miranda get to her. If she did, all was lost. "Oh you know, " she said lightly. "You always pronounced my name differently than anyone else. Even my mother calls me 'Andy'. But no, you had to use the formal, fancy way. And finally, I figured out why."
Miranda didn't bother to answer, merely raised her eyebrow again. Andy stood up and reached into her bag. Pulling out a newly purchased copy of The Princess Bride, she tossed it carelessly onto the desk. "You're the Dread Pirate Roberts." Andy walked slowly toward Miranda. Leaning in to whisper into the older woman's ear, "And I'm your Buttercup." Tilting her head slightly, Andy pressed her lips to Miranda's. The kiss was short but sweeter than any Andy had ever known. Pulling back, she used her thumb to swipe away the combined lipstick smudge on the side of Miranda's mouth. With that, she left the office, smiling broadly, heart pounding. All the way through the offices and down the elevator, Andy kept expecting some sort of delayed reaction from Miranda. The trouble was she was uncertain what that reaction would be. Security hauling her back to Miranda's office. Emily's frantic phone call demanding an explanation why Miranda had suddenly been rendered mute. Perhaps even Miranda herself chasing her down, declaring her undying love and adoration. At this last image, Andy snorted. "What was I expecting?" she asked herself. "Oh well, I'll know it when I see it."
What Andy hadn't counted on was Miranda's unlimited patience. For eleven days, Andy waited for any kind of reaction from Miranda. Slowly driving her friends and new co-workers crazy with her constant motion, fretting, and uncontrollable twitches, Andy drove herself into a frenzy. Certain she had made a huge miscalculation, she finally resigned herself to the fact that Miranda would never respond to her revelation. Daily Andy scanned the papers for any sign of Miranda. Thanks to her divorce, now very public as her soon to be ex husband demanded an exorbitant amount of alimony, something was posted nearly every day more often than not accompanied by a stock photo. On the day the divorce became final there was even a photo from the benefit, one Andy herself was in standing just behind and to the left of Miranda. Feeling foolish, yet unable to resist the impulse, Andy snipped it carefully from the paper and hung it on her refrigerator. Other than that, Andy was stumped. She knew the ball was in Miranda's court, and that there was nothing more she could do to provoke a response.
The next morning while at work typing furiously into her laptop attempting to beat a deadline, she was surprised to find a bouquet of tissue wrapped flowers thrust under her nose. Andy looked up to find a copy editor grinning at her holding the flowers. Elliot was a hard working man who routinely logged eighteen hour days correcting and fact checking articles for The Mirror. He was also known to be as flamboyantly gay as they come, so it was with great mirth Andy cooed, "Oh Elliot. For me? How sweet." He batted his eyelashes right back at her, "For you, yes Darling. From me, oh hell no." He handed her the bouquet, then perched himself on the edge of her already crowded desk. "Read the card, read the card!" He squealed, "I left my X-ray glasses in my other suit." Andy carefully unwrapped the flimsy paper, gasping when she realized exactly what kind of flowers they were. Buttercups. Elliot sniffed disdainfully as she tore open the small white envelope, "Buttercups? Who sends buttercups? Unless they're in the third grade. Andy! Are you seducing children now? I mean, I know you've gone forever without a date but really Honey, you can do better." Andy read from the card, "Andrea, at least the Dread Pirate Roberts got the girl in the end. I hope to do the same. Be ready at 8. That's all. M"
"Ooh, a pirate theme! How exciting. So, who's the boy?" Elliot crowed.
Andy smiled and tapped the card against her lip. Clearly now was the time to be circumspect so she merely stood up and took the flowers with her to the tiny office kitchen in search of a vase. Elliot followed puzzled and curious. Though he and Andy had only known each other for a few weeks, he felt they had bonded. At least enough for him to feel comfortable placing a hand on her knee to stop her incessant foot tapping during a staff meeting and to more than once hiss "Sit still" during a particularly annoying bout of fidgeting last week. Watching Andy fuss with the flowers, he finally walked over and stilled her hands, "Stop. Dish. Now" Seeing that no one else was in the room, Andy caved. Sort of. "It's just this-" she stopped. Never before had pronouns gotten in her way. It seemed strange to confess she was having girl trouble but if not to Elliot, then to whom? "It's this girl." she was thankful that all she got from Elliot was a look of respect and admiration for her admission. "I'm crazy about her, and about two weeks ago I kissed her. And ever since then I've been waiting to see what she would do. Well, today, finally she did...this." and held up the flowers. "She sent you weeds?" he answered skeptically. She swatted his arm, "No it's a joke. An inside joke. But just the fact that she made a joke is huge." The grin on Andy's face grew into a full fledged smile. Elliot squealed again, "Well if she can make you smile like that after moping around here all week, goddess bless her. So who is she?"
Andy's smile faded, "I can't tell you." at Elliot's look of disbelief she amended, "She's in the closet." 'And what a closet it is' Andy thought to herself. Elliot murmured in sympathy, "Those are the toughest of all. But at least she's taking you out. Where do you suppose you'll go? Dinner? Dancing? Hot air balloon ride?"
Andy panicked a bit, "Oh god. I haven't the faintest idea! What am I supposed to wear? How do I know what to wear if I don't know where we're going?"
"Well, can't you call her?" Elliot suggested, "I mean, she asked you out, the least she can do is provide some pertinent details."
Andy scoffed, "You don't know her. Details are for others to figure out." Suddenly Andy had an idea. Racing back to her desk, she called over her shoulder to Elliot, "This article is as close to being done as I can make it. At least in my current state of mind, which I am going out of. Can you make do with it?" she implored. Elliot sighed, "Of course, who am I to stand in the way of true love?" Pulling out her phone, Andy dialed up the Runway switchboard. Making sure she got connected to the new Emily rather than the real Emily, Andy once again put on her most confident demeanor, "Yes, I'm calling to confirm Ms. Priestly's car for this evening. Where will she be dining tonight? We want to make sure the valet parking has a spot reserved for her out front." The second assistant immediately rattled off the name of one of Miranda's favorite restaurants, the one Andy always thought of as "That Sushi Place Miranda Likes". Once she knew where she was going, Andy relaxed. The sushi restaurant was one of the best in New York but still casual enough that Andy felt confident some of her old Runway clothes would fit the bill. Too bad she didn't still have Nigel and the Magic Clothes Closet. "Nope" she mused, "a totally new closet now." She wondered how open Miranda would be. After giving so much thought to getting Miranda to acknowledge her and their apparently mutual attraction, she hadn't given any thought to what would happen then. The card indicated that Miranda was up for some sort of relationship but the anonymity of it left Andy wondering just what she had gotten herself into. Determined to put her best face on the situation, she cleared out as much of her In box as she could, tidied her desk and went home to get ready. And wash her hair. And do her makeup. And find the mate to those great Manolo Blahniks she could never find but made her ass look amazing.
Promptly at 8, the intercom buzzed. "Hello" she practically screamed into the machine. Instead of Miranda's steady voice, a man said, "Ms. Priestly's car is waiting." Andy's brow furrowed, "I'll be right down." Ms. Priestly's car? Was Miranda not picking her up in person? Did she just send the car like Andy was some sort of errand to be run, like picking up her dry cleaning? By the time Andy made it to the car, she had worked herself up into a tight little ball of fury at Miranda's insensitivity. The driver held open her door, for which Andy managed a sour "Thank you" before entering the car. Inside Miranda sat waiting, her face a calm, insouciant mask. Andy was startled, having convinced herself that the car would be empty. "Miranda!" she squeaked, "You scared me." Miranda's eyebrows came together, "I scared you? Sitting in my own car?"
"No, I thought the car was empty. That is- I thought, you wouldn't be here. Yourself, I mean." Andy realized she was babbling and that the best course of action at this point would be to shut up. So she did. Miranda stared at her in disbelief, then directed the driver to go. Taking a moment to calm herself, Andy realized Miranda hadn't spoken again and was still staring at her. She turned in her seat to look back at the older woman. Hair perfect. Makeup immaculate. Silk scarf, no doubt from Hermes, wrapped around her delicate neck. Button up blouse opened enough to see a hint of lace underneath. Realizing that she was actually checking Miranda out, Andy raised her eyes quickly to see Miranda watching her closely. Above and beyond her usual regal bearing, Andy caught a hint of something new in Miranda's clear blue eyes. Nervousness? Surely not, but as Andy looked again she was sure that was what it was. So Miranda Priestly, the woman known to make grown men cry and models wilt was human after all. Andy softened her gaze and whispered, "Hello Miranda. I'm so glad I'm here." Almost instantly, Miranda's expression eased into something slightly more relaxed. "I'm glad you are here as well. You got the flowers, I trust?"
"Yes, they were beautiful. Thank you. Where in the world did you find buttercups this time of year?" Miranda smiled lightly, "Oh it's quite simple if you know the right people. Martha sent someone up to her farm in Connecticut to gather a few from her bee field." Andy gaped, "Martha? As in Martha Stewart? Oh, Elliot will die when he hears that. He thought I was dating a third grader." As she heard the word 'dating' come out of her mouth she cringed. One night going out to dinner was hardly 'dating.' But Miranda didn't seem unduly worried about the faux pas. Thankfully, they were suddenly pulling up to the restaurant. Once again Andy was struck by nerves regarding protocol. She had never been on a date with a woman before. Should she open the doors for Miranda? Pull back her chair when they were seated? Order for her? Once her train of thought led her there, she chuckled to herself, doubting anyone had ever ordered for Miranda in her life. And all the doors were opened for them as were chairs pulled back when they were seated by the overly attentive maitre di. In fact, Andy wasn't surprised to find Miranda ordering for them both a bottle of warmed sake. "Hmmm" she commented after feeling the sweet liquid pass down her throat, "What if I didn't like sake?" She grinned when she saw her question caused Miranda's hand to pause for a second as she took a sip from her own small ceramic cup. "Well of course you like sake Andrea. Who doesn't like it?" Miranda peered at her over the cup. Andy warmed by the sound of her name as well as the wine, nodded shyly but persisted, "But, let's say for sake of argument, that I didn't like it?"
"I would assume you would speak up. You never held back disagreeing with me in the past. Why start now?" Miranda's gaze was cool but unperturbed.
"True." Andy agreed. "Good thing too, otherwise we would never be here."
Miranda nodded, "Yes, that did come as a surprise. But not an unwelcome one."
Andy asked, "If I hadn't, would you have? Said something to me, that is."
Miranda thought for a long moment, "No, I don't believe I would have. Not that I wouldn't have wondered but confrontation isn't in my nature."
Andy laughed outright, "Not in your nature! Of course it's in your nature. You're all about confrontation."
Miranda looked puzzled, "No Andrea, I'm not. I am about reacting, obviously. But rarely do I find myself called upon to confront people." Andy thought this over while she sipped another cup of the rapidly cooling wine. It was true, she surmised. While Miranda had no trouble correcting people of every little mistake and calling attention to what she saw as incompetence, she didn't actually ever need to confront anyone.
"Getting back to the question at hand. So if I hadn't come to your office, you never would have said anything?"
Miranda returned Andy's stare, "I don't believe I have said anything." Her lips were curled into a smug smile. Andy narrowed her eyes, "Jeez, it's like pulling teeth with you! So what is all this then?" she gestured around the restaurant.
"This," replied Miranda, "is all about exploring possibilities that were previously unavailable to me."
"And what the hell does that mean?"
"It means that until yesterday I was a married woman, in a very high profile job with two children to consider." Miranda's tone turned more icy than Andy had heard since Paris. "You don't think I could possibly instigate an affair with a woman half my age who was my subordinate at work?"
"Oh" Andy hadn't considered this. "So that's why you waited until today to send the flowers. And the note."
Miranda nodded, "To do otherwise, would be unseemly." Andy was warmed by the chivalrous notion.
"But the divorce is final?" Andy asked hesitantly.
"Yes" Miranda sounded like she was sighing in relief. "So I am free to pursue other options."
"Other options?" Andy repeated, not quite liking the way that sounded. "That's all I am to you? An option?"
"Andrea" Miranda snapped, "If you are going to be petulant and resistant to everything I say to you, this date will be very short indeed." Seeing she had Andy's attention once again, Miranda spoke again, more softly this time, "I didn't mean to imply that you are anything other than the sole beneficiary of my attentions. Or my affections." The look on Miranda's face was as earnest as any Andy had ever seen. It warmed Andy's heart. "Alright then, you coulda just said so." Andy muttered as she picked up her menu.
"I believe I just did." came the smug reply.
The rest of their dinner passed smoothly. Andy was pleased to hear Emily was making a full recovery from her accident, and that the new Emily was "quite impossible, really" but had yet to be fired so she couldn't be all that bad. Ironically, her name really was Emily which Andy thought hilarious and Miranda deemed convenient. Miranda mentioned reading Andy's articles in The Mirror and asked a few piercing questions regarding follow up stories she would be interested in reading in the future. Before she knew it, Andy found herself back in the car heading to her apartment. Nothing had been said or done that would indicate this was anything more than a friendly dinner between former colleagues, however, a situation Andy was determined to rectify. Sliding over a few centimeters, she resolutely took Miranda's hand in her own. Miranda looked startled at the contact but did nothing to remove her hand. Andy shot her a triumphant smile, which Miranda answered with her own, only slightly indulgent. Feeling like a teenager again, Andy was content to sit holding Miranda's warm hand, but soon began to worry again. This was her first date in a long time, and her first with a woman. Should she try to kiss Miranda? In the car, with the driver not three feet away? Or should she ask Miranda up to her place? In her haste to get ready, Andy realized she hadn't really given much thought to the state of her apartment. It was far from tidy, and her bedroom a nightmare of discarded clothing, papers and reading material for work, a hamper of dirty laundry sitting in the middle of the room acting as a reminder that laundry day had come and gone. But once again, Miranda made the decision for her by getting out of the car once they arrived in front of Andy's building. Andy meekly followed her up the stairs and into the elevator, cataloging in her mind rooms that were acceptable for admittance and those that were unquestionably off limits, like the bathroom which was in dire need of some scrubbing bubbles. At the door, Andy fumbled with her keys until Miranda took them gently from her, deftly opened the door, and pushed it ajar. "I had a lovely time, Andrea" Miranda stated quietly, a hint of rose coloring her cheeks betraying her own nervousness. Andy's heart softened, "I did too. Would you like to come in?" As opposed to every other date she ever had, Andy felt shy and formal. "No, I'll leave that for another time." Miranda said, her voice still low. Disappointment welled up in Andy as she realized that the date was coming to a close. Then suddenly, Miranda was leaning forward and kissing her. Her lips were soft and gentle, tasting of lipstick, sake and curiously strong peppermint. "When did she eat a breath mint? I never saw her eat a breath mint." Andy pondered, then realized it was less important than the feel of Miranda's tongue slipping into her mouth. Groaning at the feel of it, Andy sucked a bit harder, then pulled back enough to nip lightly at Miranda's bottom lip. This brought a moan from Miranda who wrenched her head away from Andy's mouth. Andy grabbed Miranda's arm and staring deep into the crystal blue eyes, brought their mouths together again lightly. Wrapping her arms around Miranda, Andy hugged the shorter woman to her, burying her face in the silver hair breathing deeply of perfume, silk and the scent that was uniquely Miranda. "I don't want you to go" she mumbled. Miranda's arms squeezed her tighter as she replied, "If I don't go now, I never will. And we both know that is a very poor idea." Andy smiled and straightened up but not before bestowing another nip at Miranda's neck. Staring into Miranda's eyes again, "I'll let you go this time. But not before you give me something." Miranda looked surprised but intrigued. Andy said pointedly, "Your phone number." and as Miranda started to answer, added, "The private line." Miranda's mouth gaped open for a split second, then closed with a snap. Holding out her hand imperiously, Miranda stated, "You really do cut to the chase then, don't you?" Passing her cell phone over, Andy replied, "You wouldn't expect anything less, would you?" A brief nod while Miranda tapped in the number before handing back the phone. "I have a full schedule the next two days but perhaps you would be able to meet me for lunch the day after tomorrow? I can have Jason pick you up." Not wanting Miranda to think she was at her beck and call, Andy said, "I need to check my book, but I'll let you know." Miranda seemed surprised and a little sad at this. Clearly the offer hadn't been taking the upper hand but simply a desire to see her again. Realizing her error, Andy amended, "I'm sure there's nothing I can't move around." Taking Miranda's hand, she placed a light kiss on the palm, "I really did have a wonderful time tonight, Miranda. Thank you." Miranda brought the hand up to cup Andy's cheek, "As did I. Goodnight Andrea." With that, she turned and walked around the corner to the elevator. Andy entered her apartment and raced to the window. Watching as Miranda got into her car, she was gratified when she saw Miranda raise her eyes to the window and smile.
The next few weeks flew by in a blur of hasty lunches and brief dinners. At least once a week there was a new bouquet of flowers delivered to Andy's desk ranging from cheery blue Forget Me Nots to a fire red orchid to simple daisies and Black Eyed Susans. The Susans came with a note saying, "Saw these and was reminded of your eyes" causing Elliot to peer into Andy's eyes joking about looking for jaundice. Daily he pumped her for the name of her secret admirer and daily she evaded him. Part of her was dying to tell him, if for no other reason than to see the expression on his face but also in large part to have someone to share the experience with. Being with Miranda was like being courted in a decidedly old school style. In public Miranda was always the sole of discretion, attentive and charming while in private though she had yet to enter Andy's apartment or invite her back to the townhouse, their good night kisses were lasting longer and becoming more feverish with each successive date. Andy wasn't sure how much longer she could hold out but knew the importance of waiting until Miranda signaled she was ready for more physical contact. In the meantime, she impishly splurged the money she was saving on groceries to purchase what the website referred to as a "marital aid" when her old one wore out from excessive use night after restless night. But there was a large part of her that enjoyed the secrecy of dating Miranda. It was something special for just the two of them. Finally one chilly winter night while walking arm in arm with Miranda as the car followed half a block behind, she asked, "Do you think we'll ever go public?" Miranda paused to look at Andy. "Go public?" Her tone indicated she had no idea what Andy was talking about.
"Yeah, " Andy deliberately kept her tone lighthearted, not wanting to unduly upset her companion. "You know, with our relationship." Miranda didn't speak for a long moment. "Well I hardly think we've been out of the public eye, if that's what you mean. We dine together four or five times a week. In public. Everyone in your building has seen me walk you in. I doubt there is anyone left on your floor that hasn't witnessed me kissing you in the hallway of all places." Her mouth turned down in a frown at the thought. "We are currently walking down a public street embracing. How much more public do we need to be?"
Andy stopped short. She hadn't really considered it. True, Miranda didn't touch her inappropriately while they were out but probably not out of fear of anyone seeing but more out of respect for a more dignified code of conduct. Andy searched her memory but couldn't remember ever seeing Miranda touch anyone except to shake hands or exchange air kisses when necessary for work. She just wasn't a touchy feely person. But Andy knew there was something else that was on her mind. "Why don't we ever go out with anyone else?"
"Are you so tired of my company already?" Miranda's voice was harsh. Andy shook her head, "No, it's not that. I love spending time with you! It's just-I guess I-maybe I'm feeling like I'm your hidden little secret and you're ashamed of me or something." She turned her eyes to Miranda's trying to explain but worried she had offended Miranda instead.
Miranda tucked Andy's arm into hers again and continued walking. "To say that I want you all to myself is true. But never say that I am ashamed of you. I must admit I enjoy our solitary meals together because it is the only time I am with someone who doesn't want something from me. Even the girls are at that age that they only spend time with me in order to have me buy them some new outrageous thing. I would be happy to be more social with you, but you never seemed unhappy with how things were progressing." Andy smiled at the gently worded chiding. "You're saying I need to speak up? Sure you know what you're getting into?" she tugged Miranda to a stop again. "So if I wanted to kiss you right here, right now, you'd be okay with that?" Miranda smiled indulgently, "If you must." Andy moved closer, delighting in the feel of Miranda beneath her wool coat. Kissing Miranda was quickly becoming Andy's favorite thing to do. Her mouth was full and soft and able to do the most remarkable things compared to the harsh whiskery kisses Andy was used to. In no time, Andy was breathless, delighting Miranda who gazed at her with something close to adoration. "Shall we continue?" Miranda murmured. Andy squealed, "Oh thank god! I honestly didn't think I could wait much longer Miranda." Seeing they were only a block from her home, she tugged on Miranda's coat hurrying her along. Miranda allowed herself to be manhandled, giggling at Andy's enthusiasm. Once in the elevator, however, Andy reached for her only to find Miranda unable to stop laughing. Never before had Andy seen Miranda laugh so hard. Actual tears were starting to roll down her face. When she at last trickled down to a mere chuckle, Andy asked her, "What the hell is so funny!" Miranda was unable to look Andy in the face, clearly on the brink of hysterics again. "When I said 'shall we continue?' I was referring to our walk." Miranda looked at Andy, her mouth smirking dangerously. "Would you like to tell me what you thought I meant?" Andy blushed furiously. Obviously she misunderstood, her hormones raging. Unable to bear Miranda laughing at her again, she decided to turn the tables on the other woman. Striding to her door, she quickly opened it and went inside, taking a chance that Miranda would follow. Leaning back into the doorframe, she unbuttoned the top two buttons of her coat, biting the ends of her gloves to slowly pull them off her fingers. "Well Miranda, I know we've only been going out for a few weeks but I just can't stop thinking about you." She unbuttoned her coat the rest of the way and let it drop to the floor behind her. Kicking it out of the way, she walked backward to where she knew the couch would stop her. When she felt the edge of it at the back of her knees, she stepped out of her heels. Falling back onto the couch, she shifted so that she could keep eye contact with Miranda who had stepped into the apartment, shutting the door behind her. Miranda's eyes were wide and her cheeks were flushed with something other than residual cold from outside. "All those nights Miranda." Andy said, reaching one hand under her shirt. "After you dropped me off and drove away. Did you ever think about poor me left here all alone." Her hand rose until it touched her bra, her shirt riding up to expose her smooth belly. "Because I thought about you Miranda. I thought about what I wished you were doing to me. I thought about how I wanted you to touch me." She squeezed her hand around her breast, feeling the nipple harden under the silk. "Did you ever think about touching me Miranda? Did you ever think about your hands on my body, feeling my skin under your fingertips?" Andy slid her other hand into the waist of her pants. She was astonished at how wet she had become in such a short time. She groaned at the slippery feel. "God, Miranda, you have no idea what you do to me. You make me feel so good." Moving the hand under her shirt higher, she unhooked the latch to her front clasp bra, freeing her breast. Stroking in a matching rhythm with the other hand, Andy quickly found a tempo that worked. A little too well. Moaning Miranda's name she quickly came in a flourish of ecstatic jerks. Breathing deeply, she opened her eyes. Miranda hadn't moved. Her face was a mixture of arousal and shock with disdain finally winning out. Turning on one heel, she briskly walked out closing the door behind her. Andy felt a sense of dread replace the much more pleasant aftershocks of her orgasm. Hurrying to the window, she watched as Miranda stormed to her car, slamming the door behind her. Andy couldn't hear what she said but could tell Jason was getting an earful. Frantically grabbing for her purse, Andy took out her phone and hit Speed Dial #1. Miranda's private line. It went right to voice mail. Andy whimpered as she heard the disembodied voice, "This is Miranda Priestly. I am unable to come to the phone right now." Taking a deep breath, Andy tried to sound as contrite as she felt. "Miranda, I am so sorry. I don't know what came over me. Please come back. Or call me. Or something. Please Miranda." Andy stared at the phone willing it to ring. What had come over her? In all their weeks together, even with the increased fervor of their kisses, nothing Miranda said or did indicated she was ready to take their relationship to the next level. 'Next level! Ha! I took it to a whole new building.' Andy thought. All night she sat up hoping against hope that Miranda would call. But nothing. Andy called twice more leaving essentially the same message, then realized that filling Miranda's voice mailbox was unlikely to do her any good. Finally as gray sunlight filtered through the curtains, Andy got up, changed her clothes and went to work.
One look at her from Elliot and he bolted across the room. Dragging her into the conference room, he poured her a cup of coffee. "Drink this. Count to ten. Then tell me everything." Andy smiled wanly, "How did you know?" He blinked, "Girl, have you seen a mirror? You look like hell. And not in the good way."
"I blew it. I took a perfectly beautiful relationship and screwed it up. She's never going to talk to me again." Elliot nodded, "Just what did you do? Tell Aunt Ellie all about it."
Andy drank deeply from her cup, "First I questioned why we never go out in public, ignoring the fact that we've been public all along."
"So she's not in the closet?" Elliot looked confused.
Andy shook her head, "No, she's not. She didn't shout it from the rooftops either but I was more in the closet than she was."
Elliot's eyes lit up, "Does this mean you're going to finally tell me who the mystery woman is?"
Andy poured herself more coffee, "Not that it'll do any good. Miranda will never want to see me again after what I did."
Elliot thought hard, then burst out, "Oh by the noses of Cher, you don't mean- You can't mean-Miranda Priestly? You've been dating Miranda Priestly?!"
Dampening his enthusiasm with a pointed look, Andy allowed, "Yes but then I went and screwed it all up. She's never going to have anything to do with me again."
Elliot sat down in front of Andy, "Other than question her dinner reservations, what could you have possibly done that was so terrible?"
Andy blushed to the roots of her hair and mumbled, "Masterbated in front of her at the end of our date last night." Covering her face with her hands she awaited the onslaught of Elliot's reaction. When there was none, she peeked through her fingers. "That's all?" he asked.
"God! Isn't that enough?" she answered aghast.
"So I take it you two haven't been doing the nasty?" Andy shook her head. At this, Elliot did gasp, "But you've been dating for weeks! And this is Miranda Priestly. Even I'd go down on her given half a chance." Making a face, he amended, "Well no I wouldn't but you know what I mean. Oh my god, is that it? She's frigid! They do call her the Ice Queen after all."
"No she is not frigid." Andy managed to smile. "And no, we hadn't done anything other than kiss before last night. But I was going crazy so I decided to, you know, show her how she made me feel and before I knew it-" Elliot help up a hand, "Stop right there! Of nightmares I have enough, thank you very much. Did Miranda say anything?" Andy shook her head again, "No she just walked out. And I haven't heard a word from her since." Elliot began pacing the room, "So you freaked her out a little. This is not the end of the world."
"No, just the end of my relationship." Andy said wryly.
"Oh don't be such a Debbie Downer. This is a small problem. Just find a way to get Miranda to see that perhaps you didn't communicate your needs to her in the most efficient way and that you're sorry." Elliot patted Andy on the arm. "If she's at all into you, she's not going to throw away weeks of dinners just because you jumped the gun a little.
Andy pondered this. Maybe Elliot was onto something. Pouring herself another cup of coffee she decided to let her unconscious work on it while her conscious caught up on her work. All morning and afternoon, she researched her latest articles, put the finishing touches on two that were nearly ready for publication and booked interviews with key characters in two more. While setting up the final interview something a city light worker said struck a chord, "We don't want to strike but it's like the city wants to take all our power from us without giving us a say, ya know?" Cutting him off, Andy promised to call him back with more questions later in the week. Immediately she called New Emily, as she had taken to referring to Miranda's current second assistant, "Hello Emily, this is Andrea Sachs. I believe I have an appointment with Miranda today. I wanted to make sure I had the right time. You know how Miranda hates to be kept waiting." Andy heard the sound of computer keys tapping as New Emily accessed Miranda's schedule. She sounded puzzled, "Ms. Sachs, I'm sorry but I don't see you on Miranda's schedule."
"What? It's been on there for weeks, what do you mean it's not there?" Andy promised herself she would send New Emily something nice if she could get away with this ploy. "Do I need to speak to Miranda myself about this?"
"No!" the poor girl squeaked into the phone, "I, uh, let's see, there's a break in the schedule right at 5:45 before Miranda's dinner reservation. I can squeeze you in there. If that's alright?"
Andy made a show of sighing deeply, "Well, if that's the best you can do, I suppose it'll have to be. But" she added, "be sure not to mention this little mishap to Miranda. I'd hate for her to have to train someone new so soon." Send her something really nice, Andy thought to herself as she hung up.
Once again trying to emulate Miranda, Andy breezed into the Runway offices but made no attempt to hide she was there or avoid the people she knew. Serena raised one perfectly sculptured eyebrow at her as she passed so Andy was not surprised when Emily was there to confront her as she entered the outer office. "Well, you've got a lot of nerve showing your face around here!" she huffed indignantly. "I can't imagine what you did to get onto Miranda's schedule."
Andy smile brightly, "Hello Emily. So nice to see you. Is that the Goutier I brought back from Paris? It looks fabulous on you." Emily looked confused but did nothing to block Andy as she entered the inner office. Miranda's back was to Andy. When the silence became untenable, Andy blurted out, "Miranda, thank you for seeing me. I think we need to talk."
Without turning, Miranda replied glacially, "I do believe I heard enough talking from you last night. I can't imagine what you might have to say to me in the light of day."
Not bothering to point out it was already dark outside, Andy tried again, "Miranda, please?"
In reply, Miranda went to the inner office door and shut it right in the faces of the two Emilies. Returning to sit at her desk, she stared at Andy briefly, then with a pained look on her face, she turned her chair away from the younger woman. When she spoke, her voice was low and intense, "Sex is a funny thing. It can be liberating or joyous or purely physical. I came of age during the so-called Summer of Love so I am no prude when it comes to sex. Power is also something with which I am quite familiar. It can be used to bring out the best in someone or the worst. I do believe that there is no possibility of sex without some aspect of power. Which is why I wasn't interested in ever having sex with you." When Andy gasped at this revelation, Miranda seemed to take no notice. "No, I was more interested in having real intimacy with you. Perhaps I was foolish to think that someone so young would understand the difference between simply having sex and making love. To opening up one's most vulnerable self to another. Not for some fleeting physical release or to live out some power play, to get the upper hand, so to speak. But to be together in the most truthful and trusting way two people can."
"That's what I want too, Miranda!" Andy blurted out. At her words, Miranda spun her chair around, her eyes hardened, "Not according to that...that display last night. You took away all intimacy, all trust, all consent from me and threw it back in my face like it was a used towel at a steam bath!"
Andy was stunned. Miranda was right. Andy had taken something precious and turned it into something ugly. "Miranda," she whispered, "I am so sorry. You're right. What I did was inexcusable. Nothing I can say will be enough, but if you'll just let me try." Miranda opened her mouth to respond but was stopped when Andy rushed forward to her, taking her hands, staring into her eyes imploringly. "Please Miranda." When Miranda neither removed her hands or backed away, Andy took that as a sign to continue.
"It's just that I am so confused by you. At first, I never thought in a million years that you would even give me the time of day, let alone weeks of being with you. Then we got to know each other, and I was able to see the side of Miranda Priestly no one ever gets to see. It made me want more. Not just the flowers and the dinners but more of you. You drive me crazy, Miranda. You are so beautiful and smart and sexy. And yes, powerful. You of all people must know how that is an aphrodisiac. Being with you is intoxicating to me. And it made me do something so stupid and reckless I don't blame you if you never want to see me again." Andy stared into Miranda's clear blue eyes, "But I would die if you don't." Miranda held Andy's gaze for a long moment. All the pain and anguish Andy felt was reflected back to her. Andy felt tears spill out onto her cheeks but refused to let go of Miranda's hand to brush them aside. But the sight of them must have had some effect on Miranda whose own eyes began to fill. Gathering Andy to her, Miranda wrapped her arms around Andy, pulling them tightly together. At the familiar feel of the older woman, Andy burst into tears for real, crying out her nervousness and pain and joy at being back in the arms of the woman she loved. At this thought, Andy gasped again. Pulling back Miranda searched her face in alarm, "What is it? I didn't hurt you, did I?" Hiccupping uncomfortably, Andy shook her head. "No, unless you count twenty two hours of panic." "Hmm" Miranda wasn't convinced.
"It's just-I just-you see." Andy stammered unable to form coherent words. Miranda countered by kissing her soundly. The feel of Miranda's lips on hers was just the thing to slow Andy's frantic heart enough to say when they finally parted, "I love you, Miranda."
Miranda looked at her with fixed eyes, "And I love you." Crushing their mouths together, the two kissed again and again. Andy knew her makeup was being ruined but didn't care. The feel of Miranda's mouth on hers was the only thing that mattered. That, and knowing she was forgiven for her earlier insanity. As they paused to catch their breaths, Andy felt compelled to confirm this, "So, are we okay?" she asked hesitantly.
Miranda smiled luminously, "Yes Darling, we are okay. In fact, it's probably good we had to go through this little incident so early on. I'd hate to have to explain everything to you later."
"Oh really?" sometimes Miranda was too much. "Explain everything?"
Miranda's smile was sly and full of deeper meaning, "About sex and power and-" suddenly grinning brilliantly she added impishly, "Twoo wuv.*" At the reference to their favorite movie, Andy laugh also. "Now then" Miranda took Andy by the hand and led her to the small bathroom in her office, "You clean up while I pry the Emilies away from their eavesdropping. You've really made quite a mess of your face."
Pausing only to reapply her lipstick, then opening the doors to the outer office with the kind of authority only Miranda Priestly could muster, she set about listing her latest demands and orders, "Emily, cancel my dinner with Irv. Reschedule at his convenience but only for next Tues at Maximo's. Make sure the girls made it to their father's condo in one piece and that he knows they are not to text message their friends after nine o'clock. Have Stone and Wollonsky send two Number Three dinners to my home at 7:30 but be certain they know it should be hot this time and not tepid. As if anyone would eat tepid food, it's ridiculous. Make sure my car is ready outside in five minutes. That's all." As the Emilies scrambled to fulfill the requests, Miranda checked Andy's newly scrubbed face. "Ready?" she asked quietly. When Andy nodded, she further asked, "And are you ready to come out of your closet?"
Andy looked baffled, "Miranda, I'm not in the closet-"
"Oh good," Miranda proceeded to thoroughly kiss Andy, then hearing Emily gasp and New Emily squeak, she released Andy and marched out of the office. Both Emilies' eyes were wide with shock and in New Emily's case, admiration. Andy blushed, beamed at them, and beat a hasty retreat following Miranda's clacking heels.
It was the first time Andy had ever eaten dinner in Miranda's home. She was relieved that they ate their meal, seared steak in a romaine salad with a full bodied red wine to wash it down, at the kitchen table rather than in the more formal dining room. At the end of the meal, she amused Miranda by insisting on doing the dishes even though as Miranda pointed out, "Smith and Wollonsky will just have to wash them again." After cleaning up, however, Andy was more than happy to have Miranda take her by the hand and lead her to her study upstairs. Pouring out two glasses of wine, Miranda gestured for Andy to sit on the couch, then came to join her. Kicking off her heels, Andy curled up her feet under her as she sat down. Observing this with a small smile, Miranda did the same sitting facing Andy on the couch, one arm draped over the back just enough to occasionally run her fingers through Andy's long hair. They sat in silence, drinking in the wine and each other's company for a long time. Andy felt relaxed and happier than she could ever remember. It wasn't long before the previous night's lack of sleep began to creep up on her. Noticing this, Miranda smiled indulgently and when she saw Andy's eyes begin to droop, she carefully stood up, pulled an afghan out of a nearby basket to lay over Andy's legs saying, "I need to go check the Book. I'll wake you when I'm done." Andy began to protest but was hushed by Miranda's strong finger at her lips, "No, no, you rest. I'll be back shortly." Andy let her eyes close, smiling at the sound of Miranda padding in her bare feet out of the room. Soon she found herself being gently shaken as Miranda said into her ear softly, "Time to wake up Andrea. Time to go to bed."
Andy rubbed her eyes, complaining lightly, "Why wake me up just to go to sleep again?" Miranda chuckled deep in her throat, "Who said anything about sleeping?" At that, Andy's eyes flew open. Miranda was standing over her, dressed in a plush yet thin deep blue robe, feet still bare. Her makeup had been scrubbed clean and Andy was certain she never looked lovelier. The robe brought out previously unseen deep blue highlights in Miranda's eyes and her hair was brushed to a silver gleam. Andy stood to take Miranda into her arms, groaning when she realized Miranda had nothing on underneath. "Oh god" Peering into Miranda's eyes she qualified, "Miranda, just so we're clear? You are trying to kill me, right? Because I cannot bear to go another night without being with you. And it's not about sex-" Miranda cut her off, "Andrea, we've been through this. I think we both understand what we both want. Now come along."
Leading her into the master bedroom, Andy saw that another robe had been left hanging on the open door of the master bath. "I laid out some toiletries for you, next to the towels. I need to make one last phone call but will be right back." Andy nodded as Miranda left the room. She quickly finished her ablutions, hung up her clothes on the scented hangers left for her, smiling as she did so. Her jeans never had it so good. After putting on the other robe, she wasn't quite sure what to do with herself. On the bedside table, she found a stack of books, each marked at various points with bookmarks obviously made by her children. Curiously, there were books stacked neatly on both sides of the bed. Titles ranging from Al Gore's An Inconvenient Truth to a biography of Gertrude Stein to the now officially published seventh Harry Potter book. Andy laughed when she saw that one, thinking back to the adventure she had finding it. "Something amusing in my reading material?" Andy startled when she realized Miranda had been observing her from the doorway.
"No, I'm surprised you haven't read this last one yet. I did steal an advanced copy for you, remember."
"Ah yes, although 'steal' is such a harsh word. 'Made available before the general public' would be more accurate." Miranda came to stand at the foot of the bed, her eyes twinkling. Andy suddenly felt shy. She knew she loved Miranda and didn't doubt her feelings were returned but that only served to highlight the seriousness of the moment. This wasn't some trivial fling or experiment, for either of them. Trying to assuage some of her jitters Andy asked, "So which side?"
Miranda's eyebrow went up, "Excuse me?"
Andy giggled and gestured to the bed, "Which side of the bed do you want? I noticed you have books on both bedside tables so I wasn't sure."
Now Miranda's brows furrowed, "I hadn't given it much thought."
Andy asked, "Well which side do you usually sleep on, the right or the left?"
"Well both naturally." Miranda seemed to think this was a simpleminded question.
Andy gasped, "Miranda! This bed is gigantic. Don't tell me you use up the whole thing? How could you? You're what-five-four on a good day? You could fit a small country on this thing." To prove her point, Andy jumped into the middle of the bed and stretched out her arms and legs, much like making a snow angel. As she did so, her robe slid open allowing her long legs to peek out. At the sight, Miranda's eyes glowed. "For your information, I am five feet five inches tall, and I will sleep wherever I damn well feel like, thank you very much." and proceeded to join Andy in the middle of the huge bed. Laying on her side, she inched up until her head was in line with Andy's, draping one leg over Andy's exposed calf. Bending to kiss Andy, Miranda allowed one hand to rest casually on Andy's stomach outside of the robe. Andy reveled in the feel of Miranda's mouth on hers. Their kisses were long and luxurious but soon Andy felt the familiar stirrings that accompanied kissing Miranda. Running her hand through Miranda's hair, marveling at the strong texture, she began to nibble on Miranda's lower, then upper lip. She teased her tongue into Miranda's mouth, feeling it being sucked by the other woman. Andy knew Miranda was being effected as much as she when the hand on her stomach slowly began to inch toward the opening of her robe. At the first touch of Miranda's hand to her skin, Andy thought she would die. Her belly warmed immediately and she arched into the feel of Miranda's fingers. As she did so, her knee rose lodging it firmly between Miranda's legs. They both gasped at the touch. Andy whimpered, "Miranda! You're driving me crazy. Please, please touch me." Miranda readily complied, bringing her hand up to brush against first one, then the other breast. Both watched in wonder as Miranda pushed open the robe, letting it fall to either side of Andy's body. At first, Andy felt uncomfortable exposing her less than perfect body to the woman who routinely judged perfection. But when she saw the look of pure hunger in Miranda's eyes, her fears disappeared. Miranda closed her lips around one hard nipple, sucking gently, then harder as Andy moaned her appreciation. Her hand stroked the other breast and Andy noticed Miranda had begun, apparently unconsciously, to rock against the leg between hers. Andy was torn between the pleasure in her own body and bringing pleasure to Miranda. Realizing it was all the same goal, she raised her leg at a sharper angle and grasped Miranda by the hips to increase the friction. Miranda kept suckling at her breasts, alternating back and forth, licking and biting as Andy encouraged her, "Yes Miranda, god yes, just like that." Soon Miranda was thrusting wildly against Andy, panting heavily. All at once she wailed, "Andy!" much to Andy's surprise. Knowing now was certainly not the time to laugh, Andy kept a tight grasp of Miranda as she came down from her orgasm, slowing her motions and gentling her touch. Miranda collapsed draped over Andy while Andy whispered nonsense as she recovered her breath. When she raised her head again, Miranda's eyes were twinkling. "Oh my!" she whispered.
"Oh my indeed." said Andy, glad that for once it was her turn to be smug. Miranda's smile turned wicked, scaring Andy a little. But in a good way. Proving that Miranda was nothing if not thorough, she quickly returned to bestowing kisses on Andy's exposed chest. "Oh no you don't!" Andy ordered, "Off with the robe little missy. I'm not going to be the only nudist here in Mirandaland any longer."
Miranda smirked, "Mirandaland?"
Andy returned the smile, "Mirandavania?"
"Hmm not much better." Miranda huffed, but did wriggle out of the robe which had become mysteriously tangled in the bedclothes. Andy delighted in seeing her lover's body for the first time. Miranda may have a few years, okay decades Andy conceded, on her but they did nothing to take away from her natural beauty. Full breasts, impeccable skin, surprisingly waxed pubic area. Andy started to giggle thinking, "Hmm, a runway. What a surprise." but quickly stopped when she saw Miranda start to reach for the sheet to cover herself. "Stop that. I was only tickled at your 'landing strip'." Guessing the joke herself, Miranda sighed a long suffering sigh, "Oh Andrea really." But realizing there were better ways to distract Andy, Miranda brought her head down to Andy's smooth belly, kissing and nibbling around the navel before dipping lower. Before she quite knew it, Andy found herself with her legs wrapped around Miranda's shoulders, as Miranda used her talented tongue in the most delightful way. Soon Andy was crying out her pleasure, "Yes yes yes Miranda. Oh god, don't stop, please don't stop. Oh Mirandaa" Feeling herself wailing, Andy tried to control herself but found that just as she would start coming down, Miranda would do something with either her fingers deep inside her or her tongue lapping at her clit, forcing another mind blowing wave to pass over her. Finally she pulled at Miranda's shoulder, "Miranda, stop, really I can't anymore. I'm done." With a final gentle pull of her fingers, Miranda coaxed one more from her young lover. Looking even more smug than ever she climbed up the bed to cover them with the sheet, "Yes, I think that will do for now." leaving Andy to wonder if Miranda planned to sleep at all that night. Tracing idle patterns on Miranda's arm draped over her stomach, Andy teased, "You know, tonight is the first time you called me Andy."
Miranda raised her head to look into Andy's sleepy eyes, "I did no such thing."
"Yes you did." Andy singsonged.
"Andrea." Miranda countered firmly, "I make a point to only call you by your given name."
"That's true. Usually. But just now, when you...uh..released? You called me Andy."
Miranda looked miffed, "I'm sure you must have misheard me. And besides, we have established the significance of your name to me and the way I say it. Perhaps I slipped and called you 'Andy' as further proof that context is everything in nomenclature. I assure you I will not call you anything but Andrea unless there are... compelling reasons to do otherwise."
Andy smiled, being sure to tuck that bit of information away. She was determined to provide said compelling reasons at the soonest possible opportunity. At least, after getting at least a little sleep.
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