DISCLAIMER: The Devil Wears Prada and its characters belong to Lauren Weisberger and 20th Century Fox. No infringement intended.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
FEEDBACK: To brithna[at]gmail.com

The Elevator Story
By Brithna


There were only two things Andy was interested in right about now: food and sleep. And damn if neither were in sight. Not even close. Not even close enough to see in a crystal ball. Or at least that's what it felt like. But by now for God's sake she should be used to it. For a month it had been this way and was far from getting any easier.

Andy let all thoughts of food and sleep go as she navigated her way across the street, thankful for the light traffic. Getting across the street with these bags, which happened to be everyone else's lunch, and two cups of scalding hot coffee was obviously never her favorite thing to do in the world but light traffic made it a tiny bit more bearable. Especially today. At least she'd chosen to wear some sensible shoes this morning. She was still going to be late though. Light traffic and sensible shoes wouldn't matter once she got upstairs to the demon, who had decidedly been in a nasty ass mood for what….three days? Yes, three days now. This morning especially it was like 'Jesus, will you just say whatever it is so everybody can breathe?'

But no, Andy hadn't actually said that. Are you kidding? She was anything but suicidal these days. No way. If Miranda wanted to be a bitch then fine. Let her. Andy would just keep moving right on along through her day, and right now that included getting up to the twenty-third floor of this building without spilling any coffee, or dropping everybody's food.

"Good morning, Andy." David the security guard said with a big smile as he held the door open for her.

"Thanks, David. You're too sweet."

"Not a problem, ma'am. Let me get the elevator for you."


He followed her through the lobby and gave everybody his own special 'are you freakin' crazy' glare when someone else tried to get in with Andy. He really was the best. "Thanks, David. Here ya' go." Andy smiled and handed him one of the cups of coffee. Let it never be said that Andy didn't know how to reward someone for their hard work.

"Ah, thanks Andy. You didn't have to."

"Yes, I did. Thanks David. Really." Andy gave him another smile and he waved with his cup as the elevator doors closed.

She'd give anything for a free hand right now but she'd already shifted some bags over. Her hair was probably a mess. Emily would probably say something shitty about it. But…Andy suddenly realized that if she didn't make it to a bathroom in the next sixty seconds there would be a much bigger problem than just her hair. And whatdaya know; there was a bathroom right before you reached the demon's lair. Emily would never notice her hair. How sad for her. Ha.

Once all bathroom emergencies were averted, Andy gathered up her bags again, girded her loins, as Nigel was so fond of saying, and headed into hell. Like she'd already decided, if Miranda was dead set on being a bitch today of all days, then so be it. She would just press on and get through the day.

And of course, Emily was standing right there at her desk as Andy came around the corner. "Hey, Emily."

Emily made no reply at first, only looking down and gaping at Andy's shoes. Yep. Here it comes… "Oh, my Gawd. What are you wearing? Miranda is going to kill you!"

"Oh, I doubt it." Andy said, as she set down all the bags she'd been carrying on Emily's desk. Since she was being so mouthy, let her deal with them all. "She probably won't even notice. By the way I brought you a coffee…and lunch."

"What are you talking about?" Emily said, still focused on the shoes. "Of course she'll notice! Have you lost your mind?"

"Hm…maybe she will. Who knows. Honest to God I don't care right now. I'm just ready to get on with this appointment."

"When did you become suicidal?"

"I have no idea." Andy sighed. Perhaps she was after all? "I'm getting a water. Can you call for the car?"

"Argh…Fine. Thanks for the coffee…and the food." Emily said, rolling her eyes and waving Andy off, completely exasperated.

Andy just chose to ignore the eye roll and headed to the executive kitchen. Like Miranda, Emily could be as much of a bitch as she wanted to be today…and pretty much any other. At least right now. At least until Andy got some sleep and some food and decided to care again.

"Andrea, why are you not ready? We're going to be late."

Ah, there she is. Andy stood from being head first in the refrigerator, hunting for a bottle of water that wasn't Pellegrino. "I'm ready. Water?" She held one up to Miranda and noticed there wasn't one mention of her choice in footwear or anything else for that matter.

"Fine…fine." Miranda nodded and turned to go.

Andy slipped two bottles of water into her bag and followed as always; but dared to take her time. She wasn't in an all fire hurry to be back out in the world, must less the elevator. By the time she caught up, Miranda was of course already inside. Sunglasses and all. Staring straight ahead. Typical.

For all the moments Andy had spent saying 'let her be a bitch, I don't care', she did care; which of course meant that only a measly two floors went by before she just had to break and say something first. Of course. "I'm sorry I was running a little late."

By the grace of God, Miranda actually took her sunglasses off and turned to face her. "I trust everything is alright?"

'I trust everything is alright?'…oh, hell no. This right here was pretty much the end of the line for Andy and her apparently very short fuse. Three days of bullshit was enough. Seriously, seriously enough. Forget trying to be nice and patient and non-suicidal. "What is wrong with you? I mean really?" Andy turned all the way to face her and took a step closer.

"Excuse me? What has gotten into you?" Miranda leaned back a little and looked her up and down like she'd never seen her before; which pissed Andy off even more.

"What's gotten into me?" Andy yelled. "What's gotten into me? Hello! You're the one that's been in a pissy mood for three straight days and everyone's in complete hell! Including me! Which is such bullshit by the way!"

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about." Miranda looked at her like she was completely nuts. "And for the record, there is no need to shout."

"Shout?" Andy took a breath and decided what the hell? The day was totally ruined now so why not fuck everything up just a little bit more? "Don't shout? Miranda, what is….Miranda…" Andy's voice cracked and she went silent. No, no, no…not now. Why did this have to happen now? The urge to cry was totally knocking…no banging on her door like a swat team dead set on serving an arrest warrant. Fuck.

To avoid it, or at least delay it, Andy turned around and went toward the back wall of the elevator, noticing beforehand that they were now at the fifteenth floor, which meant she really needed to get her shit together soon.

A split second and one floor later she heard Miranda move behind her. "Don't, Miranda. Just…don't." Andy held up a hand as she continued to look at the wooden veneer in front of her. It wasn't working.

"Andrea…" Miranda said her name softly and that's all it took. Let the angry crying commence. Of all the types of crying to do, Andy hated the 'angry cry' the most. It was so pathetic.

"Miranda, you have hardly spoken, except about work related bullshit, for three straight days." Andy paused her rant when she felt Miranda's hand on her shoulder but shrugged it off. "I'm eight months pregnant. With our child. And-you-are-being-an-asshole. Now…" Andy turned and finally faced her again. They were on the twelfth floor…these Elias-Clarke elevators were slow as shit sometimes. Which for once might be a good thing. "Why are you being an asshole?"

To her surprise, Miranda was speechless for a moment; but…suddenly dropped her precious handbag on the floor and in spite of that eighth month being in the way, wrapped Andy in her arms. "I'm so sorry…oh, God. Andrea…"

"You should be." Andy whispered into Miranda's neck. This was probably the first good embrace they had shared in three days too.

"I'm so sorry. I'm just…I have no idea." Miranda kissed her temple and kept a hold of her tightly. "I don't know what's come over me."

Andy started to say something but the most bizarre and untimely thing decided to happen. But honestly, really…it wasn't a surprise. To either of them. The elevator suddenly jerked, came to a rough stop…and the lights went out. Perfect.

"Oh, no." Andy groaned and put her forehead on Miranda's shoulder. "Why does this always happen to us?" Because really, since they'd been together, Miranda and Andy had been stuck in all sorts of elevators, in all sorts of places, about twenty damn times. Seriously. Hell…come to think of it, getting stuck in an elevator was how they got together in the first place. Which meant that neither of them ever got too aggravated by the inconvenience…especially since they always figured out a way to spend their time quite productively.

"Are you alright?" Miranda asked as she pressed Andy back a few steps until she was leaning against the elevator wall.

Andy inhaled and exhaled slowly before replying. "I'm fine. We're fine. But…this is certainly different than all the other times."

Miranda chuckled and moved to lean against the wall beside Andy. "I know. It is."

For a minute they were silent. Andy wondered if they should break from tradition and call downstairs for help but decided against it. Roy was downstairs and once he and Emily realized the two of them were nowhere to be found, help would be on the way soon enough.

"Andrea…can you forgive me?" Miranda said, nearly at a whisper.

"I might if I knew exactly what was going on. So tell me, Miranda, because I seriously don't understand. This hasn't happened in a long time you know. You're pretty good at telling me what's going on inside that head of yours…until now." Andy swallowed and her voice broke again as she continued. "Did I…did I piss you off or something?" Andy really didn't think that was a possibility because, ironically enough, it was pretty hard for her to piss Miranda off. At home, on a personal level, Miranda was pretty easy going. At least with her. Thank-you-Jesus. But still…there was always a chance.

"Come here." Miranda took her hand and pulled until Andy was in front of her with her back turned. They'd done this a time or two, with Miranda leaning against the back of the elevator holding Andy in her arms; but that was usually after…well. Andy blushed in the dark and leaned her head back to kiss Miranda's neck. Miranda kissed her cheek in return then finally became to explain herself. "I should have done this days ago. It just seems as if the closer we get to the 'big day' as you refer to it…the more stress I feel. I'm incredibly nervous."

"You're tellin' me." Andy interrupted and wiped her eyes. "Hello, you've done this once before. I haven't. If anyone needs to be stressed or nervous, it's me. Not you."

"I'm afraid that is far easier said than done, darling. Yes, I have done this before; but you cannot deny that this is significantly different…and…now I know what kind of mother I am."

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is…I feel that I am hardly there for Caroline and Cassidy as it is. Sometimes I'm hardly home at all. And then…what if something goes wrong." Miranda moved her hands down over Andy's stomach in slow circles and pressed her face into Andy's hair. "What if something happens? I couldn't bare it if…"

"Wait, wait." Andy broke in. She had not expected this. Miranda wasn't stressed or nervous…she was scared and that was completely new territory. "Miranda, nothing is going to happen. Everything has been totally great, except for this month and even that isn't a real problem. I just can't get comfortable at night. That is like nothing, okay? Totally nothing. Everything will be fine."

"I know…I know…I keep trying to burn that into my head, but it fails to set in. That still doesn't change the fact that I'm already not the best…wife in the world, as I'm sure you're aware…since we have right now as a perfect example."

"Oh, Lord." Andy sighed. "To be so full of yourself at work, you are plenty doubtful of your skills at being a wife, Miranda."

"That wasn't very nice." Miranda sniffed.

"Well, honey it's the truth. How long have we been married? Five years? And you still keep harping on the fact that you're a 'bad' wife. Which is bullshit by the way, and you know it. You're totally the best, with the exception of the past three days; I keep telling you that I am the happiest woman on the face of the freakin' planet."

"I suppose."

"I am. Neither of us is perfect. And Miranda," Andy leaned her head back again and rested against Miranda's shoulder. "Everything will be fine with the baby and me and us. We've made this work so far and we'll keep making it work. End of story. Period. Done, with a big ol' exclamation mark at the end."

"Alright." Miranda sighed, but at least she sounded like she half-way believed it; which was better than nothing and serious point of pride for Andy. She was pretty damn good at getting Miranda to see things her way. "Am I forgiven now?"

"Yes…know what I was thinking about earlier? When the elevator screwed up?"


Miranda started kissing her way up Andy's neck and behind her ear…right at the spot that always…and it was…"Miranda…"

"Hm? What is it?" She mumbled, moving to the other side of Andy's neck now.

"Remember the first time we got stuck in an elevator?"

"Yes." Miranda came up for air for a moment but that didn't help matters much since she was whispering in Andy's ear. "You attacked me."

"I did not!" Andy reached back just a bit and smacked Miranda's thigh. "That's a total lie. It was more like a…mutual thing."

"Huh…if you say so."

"I do say so…" Andy started to say more but Miranda got back to doing some very nice and wonderful things to her neck, and that spot behind her ear, and…yeah…so Andy decided to shut-up for a while.

The first time they got stuck in an elevator together Andy was still working for Miranda. And Miranda wasn't quite divorced yet. And Andy was in the middle of trying out this long distance thing with Nate that amounted to them hardly seeing each other twice a month, much less speaking to one another on a regular basis.

There was a meeting with some designer. Andy had forgotten his name, but definitely remembered the building. It was an older place. Older elevator. Hot. The floor was less than clean. As always, they were standing shoulder to shoulder. Andy was never quite sure how that had become the norm but it never failed that Miranda would stand right beside her, so close their shoulders touched, nearly every time they were in an elevator. That day was no different of course and when the tiny steel box came to a jerking stop, Miranda lost her footing, inadvertently pushing Andy into the wall that was only a mere two feet away.

Just as they both righted themselves, the elevator jerked again and several things ended up happening all at once. Miranda's hands were suddenly at Andy's waist, Andy's hands were suddenly on Miranda's forearms, all in an attempt to steady themselves once again, obviously. Then the lights flickered, went off completely, and it occurred to Andy that even though she was far from afraid of small spaces or elevators in general, if she was going to die in this apparent death trap…then by God she was going to die having kissed Miranda Priestly. So she did.

And whatdaya know…Miranda was immediately all over her. Im-me-di-ate-ly.

Later it was revealed that while Miranda had never once been with a woman before, she had certainly thought about it plenty when it came to Andy. As such, her overworked imagination showed itself off in quite a few amazing ways. Before it was over with Andy was barely able to stand, having had not one but three mind-blowing orgasms.

Once the elevator was fixed by some mystery repairman and they were back in the car, Andy paid her back in full and then some. In fact, Miranda had such a good time that returning to Elise-Clarke was a lost thought. The townhouse was their destination and after that…well as they say: the rest is history.

The next day Andy called Nate…at work no less…right in front of Miranda too. She broke things off between them and he acted as it was a blessing in disguise. That almost hurt. Almost. But considering that Andy spent her lunch break in Miranda's private bathroom…on her knees…then bent over the vanity…oh, God.

"Miranda." Andy barely got Miranda's name out, she was out of breath just from thinking about those early days that really only seemed like yesterday.

Miranda being Miranda picked up on Andy's thoughts and turned her half way around, kissing her firmly on the mouth. "I love you, Andrea." She said, before kissing Andy even harder this time.

Andy was by now hardly able to breathe at all but this obviously didn't matter. She kissed Miranda back with just as much desire. It was always like that. There could be absolutely no oxygen left in her or the room and Andy would still go in for another kiss. Nothing else matter but one more kiss.

While they continued a very heated, yet a much less eventful make-out session, Andy let her mind wander back to those earlier days.

From the very beginning things were hot and heavy and in spite of their efforts to take things slowly, that just didn't work. Andy finally chalked it up to the rational of some fires just can't be made to burn slowly and that they should relax. Miranda, God bless her, agreed and they just went at the pace that suited them.

Ironically, for all that 'hot and heavy', they were at least able to keep their hands off one another in public and remain, for the most part, professional. Those damned elevator mishaps kept happening though, causing a few issues along the way. There was nothing quite like almost getting caught with your pants down, literally, while Miranda Priestly is fucking you senseless. That happened twice when the repairman decided he needed to open a ceiling panel from above them to check some electrical wiring. Talk about heart stopping.

Then there was that time in…where was it? Rome? Yes, Rome when the elevator was so nice it might as well have been a hotel room all on its own. The carpeted floor in there turned out to be suitable enough and before Miranda could protest, Andy had her half naked and on her back. They barely got themselves put back together in time before the doors magically opened out of nowhere.

Now in between all this, of course, Andy was introduced to the twins on a more personal level. They, amazingly enough, were fine with the whole idea that 'wow, Mom's a lesbian now'. What they weren't fine with, though, was having to keep quiet about it. But, for the time being, The Editor and The Assistant had not been quite ready to part ways in that sense.

A few months and three more elevator adventures later, that would change. In a hot, heavy, and fast sort of way. This time they were in Elias-Clarke when the elevator once again decided to die. As usual, they couldn't keep their hands off one another and afterwards Andy ended up much like she had been a moment ago, surrounded by Miranda's arms, leaning into her as she rested against the elevator wall. Still to this day Andy wasn't exactly sure what caused it, and Miranda still to this day would never divulge, but suddenly Miranda's arms tightened around her with an almost crushing force. Andy asked if everything was alright and all Miranda could do was whisper 'Of course, darling. I just don't know what I would do without you…I really don't You are everything to me.'

A few days after that, Andy was at her desk diligently working on Miranda's 'always fucked up' expense report and trying to listen to Nigel tell her all about his date from the previous evening at the same time. Miranda came in, in her usual fury of course, but something was different this time. She neither took off her coat nor threw down her purse. She simply stood in front of Andy's desk, handed her a packet of papers and said, 'Andrea, you are to report to The New Yorker at nine tomorrow. Look over this offer…the salary and such. I am sure you will find it to your liking.' Andy's face fell in half shock and half hurt, wondering if something in their relationship had just taken a drastic and most unexpected turn. Miranda only made it half way to her desk before Andy was behind her, demanding an explanation. Nigel and Emily were obviously right there watching the whole thing. 'Why are you doing this?' Andy nearly cried and all Miranda did was simply turn around and like it was nothing she said 'Andrea, darling…If I intend to marry you one day I very well cannot do that with you sitting right outside my office. That's all.'

Nigel had to lean heavily on Emily's desk to stay upright. Emily had to fall into her chair because she couldn't stay upright and Andy? Well Andy smiled, kissed Miranda like she'd never done such a thing in all her life, then finished Miranda's 'always fucked up' expense report before walking out of the building for the last time as an employee.

A commotion of some sort outside the elevator roused the couple out of their make-out session. Unfortunate…or maybe not considering Andy was on the verge of needing to make yet another trip to the bathroom. "I hate to say it but I hope they've about got it fixed." She said, turning around in Miranda's embrace again and smoothing her hair back. Miranda never could keep her hands out of Andy's hair.

"Are you not feeling well?" Miranda asked with concern, clearing her throat to probably calm herself down. This was the first time since Andy's pregnancy that they'd found themselves stuck in this kind of a situation so she was no doubt having a serious problem keeping herself in check.

"I'm okay…gonna need a bathroom break soon though."

"Ah…yes. Well hopefully it won't be much longer."


Andy's next words were cut off by someone's voice on the other side of the door. Surprisingly enough, it was David's voice. The security guard from the lobby. And he sounded really, really pissed off.

"Listen buddy. I don't care what you have to do! You need to get this elevator open now!"

"Oh, my." Miranda whispered. "Is that David? That security guard that is infatuated with you?"

Andy slapped Miranda on the thigh again. "He is not infatuated with me, Miranda. He's a very nice man, thank you very much."

"Hm, well I still—"

This time it was another voice that interrupted them. "Dude, this is gonna take a while. Somebody's trying to find the emergency key for the top of the door. Chill, man."

"Dude? Chill?" Miranda said with ice in her voice.

"Let me tell you something, you little asshole," David was pretty much yelling now and it was hard not to laugh. "Miranda Priestly is in that elevator. Get. It. Open."

"Oh, fuck." The other guy said and Andy could clearly hear Miranda give a sigh of satisfaction. It looked like David was well on his way to being off of Miranda's shit-list.

"And her wife is in there too! And she's eight months pregnant. Get. It. Open."

"Whoa…Andy Priestly?" The guy questioned. "From The New Yorker?"

"Hello! Yes!" David yelled at him again. "Unless Miranda has a bunch of other wives hanging around that I've never met – that's the one."

Andy turned around at that and in the dark she gave Miranda her best glare. "You don't have a bunch of wives hanging around do you?"

"No, darling." Miranda laughed. "Only one. And she's enough. Hormones and all."


"Hush, darling. Turn back around."

Andy turned and leaned back. For a while they just listened to David rip the repair guy a new one…then they hard a new voice. This time it was Roy…oh shit.

It was a little known fact but ever since Andy had gotten pregnant, Roy had suddenly turned into this huge 'I don't put up with bullshit' kind of guy.

"What the hell seems to be the problem, son? Are you stupid or something? Don't tell me you just graduated from elevator repair school?"

"Oh, boy," Andy whispered and Miranda chuckled.

"Uh…uh…no, sir. I was just explaining to this—"

"No, no," Roy jumped in. "You were just explaining how you were going to pry these doors open. Weren't you?"


After that something hit the door, scaring them both slightly, then there was…silence.

"I wonder what just happened."

"I don't know," Miranda said cautiously. "But I fear the repair boy has been carted off to parts unknown."

"Wow…well they better hurry up…like really."

"Here, let's have some water. I know you're near a bathroom emergency but it won't hurt. You need to cool off. The air in here is getting a bit stale."

Miranda moved Andy over toward the wall and felt around on the floor until she found Andy's purse. With water in hand, they rested side by side until the voices of David and Roy and from the sounds of it, a new repairman were heard again.

"Andy!" David yelled through the door.

"Yeah, David…get me out of here, please!" Andy yelled back while Miranda commented that David would probably leave Miranda stuck in the elevator for days if Andy wasn't in here. Andy ignored her.

"Someone downstairs finally found the key…just hang tight for one more second."

"Thank you, David!"

"Thank you, David." Miranda quietly mimicked her and Andy hit her again, this time on the arm.

"Will you stop that? Jesus."

"Alright. Alright…goodness."

"Well, it's childish."

"And funny." Miranda snorted.

"Oh?" Andy replied. "So you do that shit on purpose?"

"Perhaps. It has a certain entertainment value."

Andy rolled her eyes. "Whatever…"

A second later the doors were slowly opened, revealing David, Roy and what seemed to be a much older and experienced looking man than the previous boy. But, there was one problem. Neither of them had realized this before but now it was clear; they were stuck between floors…a good four feet. Oh. Boy.

Immediately, before anyone could say a word, Miranda launched forward in her usual way. "Absolutely not. Get this elevator up to a proper floor this instant. I will not have my wife performing any climbing feats today. You're all out of your minds."

"Miranda, honey—"

David cut her off as began to lower a ladder down to them. "We've got this ladder, okay? It'll be alright… just a couple of feet. If you help her from down there, we'll help her from up here. We can do this…there's no telling how long you'll have to wait otherwise."

"I'm doing it! Totally ready!" Andy said, pretty enthusiastically. "I seriously need to pee, Miranda. Come on."

"No, Andr—"

"Too late." Andy was already one rung up the ladder, eight month and all. "Screw safety. I'm getting out of this damn box."

Instantly, of course, Miranda shut her mouth and was right behind her the whole way while David and Roy grabbed Andy's hands from above just at the right time. It wasn't pretty by any means, certainly nothing to brag about, but they got the job done.

Once they were both out of the elevator and Miranda had her precious heels back on, everybody breathed a much deserved sigh of relief. Emily was right there, of course, with a chair and…a paramedic. What?

"A paramedic?" Andy scoffed in disbelief. "I don't need a paramedic. I need a bathroom…move, move." With that she was off, shoving people out of her way, leaving Miranda to follow behind.

Ten minutes later Andy was done with her latest bathroom emergency and washing her hands, while Miranda fretted over her the whole time. "Miranda, I am totally okay. I do not need a paramedic." Drying her hands she turned around and told Miranda what she really needed. "Know what I really need? I need food. Right now. Like something totally fattening and totally horrible for me. I'm starving."

Finally Miranda's face softened. "Fine," she sighed, yet again giving in to whatever it was that Andy wanted. "Cheeseburger?"

Andy's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. "I love you!"

"Hm…you love the cheeseburger idea, that's what."

"Maybe. Now come on." Andy grabbed Miranda's hand and proceeded to pull her out of the bathroom then down the hall.

"Where exactly might we be getting this burger? And have you forgotten all about this appointment we have with the decorator?"

"HardRock Café…and we're not going to the decorator."

"Andrea," Miranda said in that way she always did when she was trying to keep herself from saying something terrible. "The Hardrock Café? Really, darling? And what about the decorator?"

"Yes, really. Just say 'yes', please…there's Ben & Jerry's there too and really cool music and I don't care if you think it's beneath you. We're going. And guess what?" Andy added as she pulled Miranda into another elevator that everyone swore up and down would work this time.

"What?" Miranda sighed.

"We're not going to the decorator because as I've tried to tell you like a hundred times: I want to decorate the baby's room myself. But you won't listen. Well…this is me putting my foot down. Besides, we hardly have any time left and I don't feel like a bunch of people traipsing through the townhouse." Andy wrapped her arms around Miranda's neck as she playfully stepped on Miranda's toe.

"Fine…fine. Do what you will. I'm sure it will be lovely. And guess what?"

"What?" Andy asked as the elevator opened out into the lobby.

"Stepping on my foot like that? You are very lucky you have on those ridiculous shoes. Otherwise, I would have had to kick you in retaliation for the pain and suffering you might have caused."

Andy smiled. "Oh, you finally noticed my shoes?"

"Darling, I noticed them when you put them on this morning."

Smiling again, Andy waited until they got into the car to look down at her 'ridiculous' shoes since that was the only way she could see them in the first place. In spite of what everyone else thought, they were very cute. "Well, I like them. And my feet are the size of concrete blocks, okay. Lay. Off."

"Hm…" Miranda paused and looked down at them too. "I suppose flip-flops with white daisy's sprouting from the tops could possibly be…appealing."

"They sure are. Roy?" Andy called out as Roy buckled his seat belt.

"Yes, Andy?"

"Go already," She pouted. "I'm starving"

Miranda rolled her eyes and took Andy's hand. "I love you, darling. Let's try to have no more elevator mishaps for a few months, hm?"

"Deal. The next one will be way more fun." Andy winked. "I promise."

"Oh, I have no doubt about that…no doubt at all."

The remainder of their short journey was spent in silence with Andy wondering just how many different colors those flip-flops came in and Miranda wondering if there was some strange way she could make them mysteriously find their way into the trash-can.

As it turns out, those flip-flops came in six different colors and Miranda never would figure out a way to make them disappear. And yes…there would definitely be more hot, heavy, and very adventurous elevator mishaps to be had. Many, many more.

The End

Return to The Devil Wears Prada Fiction

Return to Main Page