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 vivalab[at]btinternet.com
Possibilities
By VivalaB
"Andréa?"
Andy Sachs rolled her eyes as she pushed back from the chair, simultaneously lifting the notepad and pen as she hurried into Miranda Priestly's office.
"There you are, how many times do I have to scream your name?" the formidable woman asked, her hushed tones oozing authority.
Andy ignored the barb, pen poised, ears ready.
Nothing happened.
She watched as Miranda exhaled loudly as she studied the screen of her laptop. After a minute of awkward silence, Andy could stand it no longer, "Miranda?" she prompted.
Miranda frowned and peered over the rim of her glasses, casting her eyes appreciatively over the short black and white Chanel dress, "Andréa, are you familiar with fan fiction?"
Andy nodded, taking a step closer to the seated figure, "Yes," she replied hesitantly.
Miranda nodded, "Do you read it?"
Andy felt a slight blush rising in her cheeks, "Um…not so much these days," she stammered nervously.
Miranda nodded again, "I see…" she paused, glancing down at the screen before leaning back in her chair, a predatory gleam in her eye, "…and have you heard of an author called ceruleanblue82?" she asked, removing her glasses and tapping the leg off her chin.
Andy swallowed nervously, "Um…I..." she shook her head, "…I'm not sure," she replied, glancing away from the penetrative gaze.
Runway's editor-in-chief went in for the kill, "Really?" she purred dangerously.
Andy closed her eyes, "Yes," she lied, wishing a phone would ring.
Miranda slipped the glasses back on and shifted her gaze to the screen, her fingers gliding over the track pad, "There's a fandom dedicated to us….well…that so called movie based on us," she clarified, waving her free hand disdainfully in the air.
Andy felt the room getting smaller as the need for escape threatened to consume her. She forced her outward appearance to remain calm, only too aware of Miranda's incredible ability to scrutinise body language. She focused on exuding indifference, "Is there?" she asked, hoping her voice sounded casual.
"Mm hm."
"Um, is it any good?" she asked hesitantly.
Miranda arched an eyebrow, "Any good?"
Andy smacked her lips together nervously, "Yeah…um…is it a…" she paused, trying to find the right words, "…a good read?"
"Well, this…ceruleanblue82…explores…" she stopped, wondering how to put it, "…possibilities," she finished, watching Andréa closely, enjoying her obvious attempts at self-control.
Andy felt her bosom heave and was thankful for the high collared dress, knowing her chest was undoubtedly flushed, "Possibilities?"
"Yes. She has quite an imagination, seems to think that you and I are destined to be together," she replied, a teasing smile tugging earnestly at the corner of her lips.
Brown eyes widened in horror, "That's um…." She shook her head, "...that's ridiculous!"
"Ridiculous?" Miranda questioned sharply, pursing her lips.
Andy closed her eyes, instantly regretting her choice of words.
"That's all."
Andy's eyes snapped open, "Miran-"
"That's all," Miranda repeated, her tone dangerously low.
Andy stood rooted to the spot, her legs unwilling to move, she bolstered her courage and took a deep breath, "It's ridiculous because someone like you would never be interested in someone like me. Maybe this writer is using her words to create a world where anything is possible just to help her make it through each day," she said, shocked at her own admission. She turned to leave.
"Andréa."
She stopped and turned, praying the end would be quick.
Miranda eased out of her chair and moved in front of the desk, resting casually against it as she placed her palms on the cool, glass surface behind her, "Who is ceruleanblue82?" she asked quietly.
Andy swallowed, "How did you find out?" she asked crestfallen, her heart sinking.
"I needed a copy of next week's schedule for the twins…neither of you were at your desks…I noticed the open document on your computer screen…" she replied, leaving the rest unfinished, her tone surprisingly gentle to Andy's ears.
Andy sighed, "I meant no disrespect," she said honestly, lowering her eyes.
"Why ceruleanblue82?"
Andy smiled fondly, "Because I realized then that no matter what happened at Runway, working for you would be an education," she answered, meeting the inquisitive gaze. They stared at each other in silence until Andy bobbed her head and pointed her thumb over her shoulder, "I'll go clean out my desk," she said, taking one last look around the office.
"You're leaving?"
She snorted softly, "Well, I don't know how much you've read, but I'm pretty sure you've read enough to know how I feel about you."
"Indeed," Miranda said, pushing off the desk and stepping towards her assistant, "Clear my schedule and call Roy, have him meet us outside in five minutes," she instructed crisply.
Andy looked at her in confusion, "Us?"
"Well, clearly I'm going to have to explore these possibilities for myself," she answered matter of factly.
Andy's mouth fell open in surprise, her mind struggling to comprehend what her boss was saying. She blinked slowly as soft lips pressed against her own.
Miranda pulled back and shook her head, "Really Andréa, for someone with such an overactive imagination, that wa-"
Andy cut off her retort as she crushed their mouths together, smiling into the kiss as a teasing tongue swiped across her lips. Arms slipped tentatively around each other, holding their bodies close, revelling in the new sensations coursing through them. As they parted, Miranda cleared her throat gently, ignoring the triumphant look in Andréa's eyes, "Yes, well…better, but in need of practice…" she husked as she stepped out of the embrace, "…a lot of practice," she added throatily.
Andy grinned, "I'll call Roy," she said, already making her way towards the door. She turned at the sound of her name to find Miranda staring down at her right hand and flexing her fingers.
"Miranda?"
Miranda kept her eyes on her wiggling fingers as she spoke, "Four Andrea?"
Andy frowned, "Four?" she asked, no idea what Miranda was talking about.
Miranda shifted her eyes to the dark haired woman, raking her eyes down her taut frame.
Andy gasped as realization dawned, her cheeks instantly flaming, "Um…"
"I would have thought three, but four is definitely a possibility," she smirked before raising her hand and wiggling her fingers dismissively, "That's all."
The End