The Gift of Possibilities: The Third Part I
Yes. She did it. It's all about the troublesome Jellyroll here.
Disclaimer: The Devil Wears Prada is neither mine nor Ruari's. No infringement intended, no money being made. The building belongs to Lauren Weisberger and 20th Century Fox. We're just redecorating. When finished, we will tear down the new curtains and fancy artwork, but leave the festive paint…
Rating: T
Fandom: The Devil Wears Prada
Pairing: Mirandy
.............................
Third ~ Ruari’s
Miranda gently pulled the down-filled duvet higher, making sure to cover Cassidy and Caroline completely, tucking it around their necks. She sat on the side of her own bed and gazed tenderly down at her precious little terrors.
It was Christmas Eve. And since Andrea couldn’t be with them, her girls hadn’t wanted their mother to be alone. So they’d asked if they could sleep with her.
Miranda sighed and stood up. She was lonely and missed Andrea terribly, so she’d said ‘yes’ and now had a pair of gangly thirteen-year-olds taking up most of the space in her king-size bed. She entered her bathroom with a smile on her face and began removing her make-up.
Andrea
Miranda Priestly was most decidedly in love with the girl. She couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment it’d happened, but the truth was undeniable. All personal (and a few professional) decisions were now made with her children and Andrea in mind. She couldn’t look at an oak tree, the rain, Central Park, the moon, or mistletoe without her mind immediately latching on to the memory of a breathless brunette leaning in and kissing her for the very first time. She tingled now just thinking about it.
She quickly finished her ablutions and wandered back out to the bedroom. With another quiet, sad sigh, Miranda crawled into her bed, chuckling softly when Caroline shifted toward her in her sleep. She lay staring at the darkness, her eyes slow to adjust. She glanced over to her nightstand just to make sure she’d put her Blackberry there and that it was on.
Just in case the hospital called.
*** *** ***
The following morning found Miranda pouring orange juice into three glasses while she waited for her girls. As though they sensed their mother’s disquiet, the twins didn’t stampede down the stairs as thunderously as usual. But they were still teenagers, so Miranda had plenty of warning as to their arrival in the kitchen.
“Good morning, my darlings.” She held out a juice to each redhead.
Cassidy grabbed hers and leaned up to kiss her mother on the cheek. “Morning, Mom.” She feigned disinterest as she wandered over to the table.
Miranda’s eyes widened at the rare gesture. Not to say they were not affectionate, but it was still unusual for one of her children to plant an unsolicited kiss on her. She was deeply touched.
Not to be outdone, Caroline approached and wrapped one arm around her mother’s waist, squeezing out a quick hug before taking her juice out of her hand. “Morning, Mom. Did you sleep?”
The girls were very aware of how little their mom had slept in the last ten days. In fact, the last full night’s sleep their mother had gotten was the night before the accident. They didn’t know exactly how much or how little, but they knew she was always up when they were. The exhaustion was not evident to most, but she was their mom. They knew her. Caroline and Cassidy knew that as much comfort, love, and support they gave her, it was only Andy’s recovery that would truly help. And that was okay with them. They needed Andy, too.
Miranda’s smile was a little watery as she gazed over at her children. Oh, how she cherished them. “A little, sweetheart. Thank you for asking.” She carried over two prepared plates, having just finished making the omelets minutes ago.
“When are we going to see Andy?” Cassidy asked. She reached for the jam and began spreading it on her English muffin then started spreading it on Caroline’s, as well.
“Thanks,” whispered Caroline.
Miranda’s brows rose in amusement at their behavior. Twins were so fascinating. “When you’ve finished your breakfast, we can go. But no rushing! Ladies do not inhale their food no matter what Andrea says,” she teased, cutting them off before they could start shoveling their omelets in to speed things along.
Early last night, the three of them had, together, decided to hold all of the “Christmas Day Activities” until Andrea was able to come home and be a part of them. They were a family and would celebrate like one. Her girls were maturing at an alarming rate, but they absolutely adored their Andy.
She sipped her own juice while watching them. She listened to their quiet conversation with half an ear but was not so distracted that she didn’t hear the doorbell. “Finish your breakfast,” she called as she rose to answer it.
“What are you doing here? You get a day off and show up at my townhouse. Emily, you are seriously overworked.” Miranda’s lips twitched as she almost smiled at her assistant.
Emily smiled. “Happy Christmas, Miranda,” she greeted in her cool, British tones. “I have presents.” She held up two packages.
Miranda’s eyes widened for the third time that morning. Was it ‘Shock Miranda Day’ and no one told her? “Just two? Emily, I’m hurt,” she jested with a hand clutched dramatically to her chest.
“Ha Ha,” retorted the younger woman as she followed her employer into the townhouse. Her relationship with her boss had changed slightly over the last year. With Andy Sachs as a part of Miranda’s life, Emily had become less frightened of the woman. She’d somehow become friendlier with Andy and the two of them tried to make Miranda’s life easier. Emily now did her absolute best for Miranda Priestly because she respected what she did every day to produce the world’s foremost fashion magazine while, at the same time, maintaining a successful private life. Did Miranda still frighten her occasionally? Oh, absolutely. Did she feel threatened anymore? No. Her work ethic and abilities had improved, and she was being given more responsibility. That said, she actually liked working for her boss now. “These are for the girls. Your present is that I am going to watch them for a couple hours while you head off to the hospital for some private time with Andy. I’ll bring them over later. How’s that?”
Miranda’s features softened. It was a lovely gesture from her assistant. An assistant who deserved a well-earned vacation after all the work she’d done over the last ten days, rearranging her schedule God knows how many times. And now she was over at her house on one of her very few days off. “That is very thoughtful of you, Emily, and I’ll take you up on that offer.” She turned to lead them to the kitchen where she explained what was happening. The girls were agreeable, and Miranda hurriedly called for Roy’s replacement. Her driver was enjoying his well-earned day off as he, too, had been highly overworked the last ten days.
Minutes later, she was kissing the girls goodbye in the foyer. She looked Emily in the eye as she wrapped her scarf about her neck. “I won’t forget this, Emily.”
She approved of the simple nod of acknowledgment from her assistant. With that, she was out the door.
*** *** ***
Miranda very quietly let herself in to Andrea’s room. She was asleep, so Miranda went about removing her outerwear as quietly as possible. She settled into the room’s couch to wait for her beloved Andrea to awaken. As it often did during these occasions, her mind drifted back to that horrible day she’d received a call from New York Methodist Hospital in Brooklyn.
“Miranda, you need to take this call,” Emily insisted, her voice firm and unyielding but clouded with worry. She held the cordless phone out to the editor.
Miranda glared over the top of her glasses. “You do see I’m in a meeting with twelve other people, do you not?”
“Yes, but I don’t care. Take it,” her voice trembled. She had no idea where her courage came from at that moment, but she was glad of it. “There’s been an accident, Miranda.”
Miranda stared blankly at her assistant for a moment. Accident? She reached for the phone. “Yes, who’s this?”
“Is this Miranda Priestly?”
“Yes, yes. Now who is this?” Miranda practically growled, unnerved by the look on her assistant’s face.
“This is New York Methodist Hospital in Brooklyn. Ms. Priestly, an Andrea Sachs was brought in, and according to her photographer, you are her emergency contact.”
Miranda gasped as the words sunk in. Without a thought to those in the room, she stood and hurried back to her office, Emily trailing behind her.
“Is she-“
“She’s alive, Ms. Priestly, but her condition is serious.”
“What happe-“
“All we know is that there was an explosion at a chemical plant.”
“Very well. I’m on my way.” Miranda hung up and tossed the phone on Emily’s desk as she passed it. “Emily, get Roy here immediately. Have Nigel finish that meeting. In fact, have Nigel handle everything today, including the Book. He answers all questions, makes all decisions, at least for the rest of the day.” She grabbed her Blackberry and absently noted the missed call, correctly assuming it was the hospital. She walked back out of her office. “Call Dalton and inform them that I do not want the twins to have access to television, internet, or any other form of news. Have them picked up at their usual time and delivered home. Inform Cara of what has happened and of the same restrictions to news outlets. I will inform the children when I know more. I do not want the New York media to handle that, do you understand?” Miranda took a deep breath. “God, they adore Andrea.”
Emily’s eyes were wide as she scribbled down the instructions. “Is she-“
“They said she’s alive, but it’s serious. An explosion.” Miranda shook her head. “I have to go.” She grabbed her coat and bag from the lesser Emily and hurried out.
Thirty minutes later, she arrived at New York Methodist and swept into the ER like she owned it. She approached reception. “Miranda Priestly for Andrea Sachs,” she quietly informed the harried woman. Miranda shot a look of horror and disgust at her surroundings while she waited for the woman to figure out where her Andrea was.
Her Andrea…
“She’s still down here. Let me get the doctor for you,” the nurse informed her after verifying Miranda’s right to know. Miranda gave a curt nod and stepped back.
A young man approached from the waiting area. “Ms. Priestly?”
Miranda turned to find a filthy young man with two backpacks wringing an equally filthy baseball cap in his scuffed and bleeding hands. The knees of his jeans were ripped, and she could see bloodstains on the material. “Yes?”
The young man cleared his throat. “I’m Chase. Andy’s photog? Chase Atteborough.” He started to stick his hand out but stopped when he saw how nasty it was and how pristine she was.
Miranda, for the first time ever, disregarded the filth, the dirt, the scruff, and focused on his name. She reached out and shook his hand before he could pull it back all the way. “Chase, yes. Andrea has mentioned you many times. She loves working with you.”
Chase nodded and looked away. He swallowed hard. “I’m sorry about Andy, Ms. Priestly. She’s hurt real bad.”
Miranda’s knees weakened at this news and she grabbed at the counter for support. Chase reached a hand out to steady her, not fearing she’d mind since she’d already shaken his hand.
“Call me Miranda, Chase. Can you tell me what happened?”
“There was a fire at Atlas Chemical, so the paper sent us to check it out. Miranda, we were behind the press line, honest. But there was a huge explosion down at the end where we were. Andy was in front. It knocked her back about twenty feet. Then there were paramedics and firefighters and people screaming. I’m sorry, I got here as fast as I could, but it took me a while to find out what hospital they sent her to. She’s been here for almost five hours, Miranda. I’m so sorry. I told them to call you as soon as I got here.”
“Yes, thank you for that, Chase. And I don’t blame you for anything. It was an accident?”
Chase nodded. “That’s what they think. Just the fire spreading to the wrong area or something. To be honest, I’ve kind of lost track of the story since it blew up on us.” He swiped at his brow and rubbed his temple. “No pun intended.”
Miranda smiled weakly. “Are you hurt? I see blood, and you’re massaging your head.”
“I’m fine. Really.”
“Nonsense. You are hurt. And you’re a friend of Andrea’s. I’ll make someone look at you.” She made a move toward the reception nurse, but Chase held up a hand.
“No, really. I appreciate that, but there are a lot more seriously injured people here.”
Miranda narrowed her gaze. Before she could assert her intentions, an exhausted-appearing physician approached.
“Someone here for Andrea Sachs?”
“Yes.” Miranda turned toward him. She motioned for Chase to follow with a jerk of her head. And he caved to the Priestly pressure like everyone always does.
Disclaimer: The Devil Wears Prada is neither mine nor Ruari's. No infringement intended, no money being made. The building belongs to Lauren Weisberger and 20th Century Fox. We're just redecorating. When finished, we will tear down the new curtains and fancy artwork, but leave the festive paint…
Rating: T
Fandom: The Devil Wears Prada
Pairing: Mirandy
.............................
Third ~ Ruari’s
Miranda gently pulled the down-filled duvet higher, making sure to cover Cassidy and Caroline completely, tucking it around their necks. She sat on the side of her own bed and gazed tenderly down at her precious little terrors.
It was Christmas Eve. And since Andrea couldn’t be with them, her girls hadn’t wanted their mother to be alone. So they’d asked if they could sleep with her.
Miranda sighed and stood up. She was lonely and missed Andrea terribly, so she’d said ‘yes’ and now had a pair of gangly thirteen-year-olds taking up most of the space in her king-size bed. She entered her bathroom with a smile on her face and began removing her make-up.
Andrea
Miranda Priestly was most decidedly in love with the girl. She couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment it’d happened, but the truth was undeniable. All personal (and a few professional) decisions were now made with her children and Andrea in mind. She couldn’t look at an oak tree, the rain, Central Park, the moon, or mistletoe without her mind immediately latching on to the memory of a breathless brunette leaning in and kissing her for the very first time. She tingled now just thinking about it.
She quickly finished her ablutions and wandered back out to the bedroom. With another quiet, sad sigh, Miranda crawled into her bed, chuckling softly when Caroline shifted toward her in her sleep. She lay staring at the darkness, her eyes slow to adjust. She glanced over to her nightstand just to make sure she’d put her Blackberry there and that it was on.
Just in case the hospital called.
*** *** ***
The following morning found Miranda pouring orange juice into three glasses while she waited for her girls. As though they sensed their mother’s disquiet, the twins didn’t stampede down the stairs as thunderously as usual. But they were still teenagers, so Miranda had plenty of warning as to their arrival in the kitchen.
“Good morning, my darlings.” She held out a juice to each redhead.
Cassidy grabbed hers and leaned up to kiss her mother on the cheek. “Morning, Mom.” She feigned disinterest as she wandered over to the table.
Miranda’s eyes widened at the rare gesture. Not to say they were not affectionate, but it was still unusual for one of her children to plant an unsolicited kiss on her. She was deeply touched.
Not to be outdone, Caroline approached and wrapped one arm around her mother’s waist, squeezing out a quick hug before taking her juice out of her hand. “Morning, Mom. Did you sleep?”
The girls were very aware of how little their mom had slept in the last ten days. In fact, the last full night’s sleep their mother had gotten was the night before the accident. They didn’t know exactly how much or how little, but they knew she was always up when they were. The exhaustion was not evident to most, but she was their mom. They knew her. Caroline and Cassidy knew that as much comfort, love, and support they gave her, it was only Andy’s recovery that would truly help. And that was okay with them. They needed Andy, too.
Miranda’s smile was a little watery as she gazed over at her children. Oh, how she cherished them. “A little, sweetheart. Thank you for asking.” She carried over two prepared plates, having just finished making the omelets minutes ago.
“When are we going to see Andy?” Cassidy asked. She reached for the jam and began spreading it on her English muffin then started spreading it on Caroline’s, as well.
“Thanks,” whispered Caroline.
Miranda’s brows rose in amusement at their behavior. Twins were so fascinating. “When you’ve finished your breakfast, we can go. But no rushing! Ladies do not inhale their food no matter what Andrea says,” she teased, cutting them off before they could start shoveling their omelets in to speed things along.
Early last night, the three of them had, together, decided to hold all of the “Christmas Day Activities” until Andrea was able to come home and be a part of them. They were a family and would celebrate like one. Her girls were maturing at an alarming rate, but they absolutely adored their Andy.
She sipped her own juice while watching them. She listened to their quiet conversation with half an ear but was not so distracted that she didn’t hear the doorbell. “Finish your breakfast,” she called as she rose to answer it.
“What are you doing here? You get a day off and show up at my townhouse. Emily, you are seriously overworked.” Miranda’s lips twitched as she almost smiled at her assistant.
Emily smiled. “Happy Christmas, Miranda,” she greeted in her cool, British tones. “I have presents.” She held up two packages.
Miranda’s eyes widened for the third time that morning. Was it ‘Shock Miranda Day’ and no one told her? “Just two? Emily, I’m hurt,” she jested with a hand clutched dramatically to her chest.
“Ha Ha,” retorted the younger woman as she followed her employer into the townhouse. Her relationship with her boss had changed slightly over the last year. With Andy Sachs as a part of Miranda’s life, Emily had become less frightened of the woman. She’d somehow become friendlier with Andy and the two of them tried to make Miranda’s life easier. Emily now did her absolute best for Miranda Priestly because she respected what she did every day to produce the world’s foremost fashion magazine while, at the same time, maintaining a successful private life. Did Miranda still frighten her occasionally? Oh, absolutely. Did she feel threatened anymore? No. Her work ethic and abilities had improved, and she was being given more responsibility. That said, she actually liked working for her boss now. “These are for the girls. Your present is that I am going to watch them for a couple hours while you head off to the hospital for some private time with Andy. I’ll bring them over later. How’s that?”
Miranda’s features softened. It was a lovely gesture from her assistant. An assistant who deserved a well-earned vacation after all the work she’d done over the last ten days, rearranging her schedule God knows how many times. And now she was over at her house on one of her very few days off. “That is very thoughtful of you, Emily, and I’ll take you up on that offer.” She turned to lead them to the kitchen where she explained what was happening. The girls were agreeable, and Miranda hurriedly called for Roy’s replacement. Her driver was enjoying his well-earned day off as he, too, had been highly overworked the last ten days.
Minutes later, she was kissing the girls goodbye in the foyer. She looked Emily in the eye as she wrapped her scarf about her neck. “I won’t forget this, Emily.”
She approved of the simple nod of acknowledgment from her assistant. With that, she was out the door.
*** *** ***
Miranda very quietly let herself in to Andrea’s room. She was asleep, so Miranda went about removing her outerwear as quietly as possible. She settled into the room’s couch to wait for her beloved Andrea to awaken. As it often did during these occasions, her mind drifted back to that horrible day she’d received a call from New York Methodist Hospital in Brooklyn.
“Miranda, you need to take this call,” Emily insisted, her voice firm and unyielding but clouded with worry. She held the cordless phone out to the editor.
Miranda glared over the top of her glasses. “You do see I’m in a meeting with twelve other people, do you not?”
“Yes, but I don’t care. Take it,” her voice trembled. She had no idea where her courage came from at that moment, but she was glad of it. “There’s been an accident, Miranda.”
Miranda stared blankly at her assistant for a moment. Accident? She reached for the phone. “Yes, who’s this?”
“Is this Miranda Priestly?”
“Yes, yes. Now who is this?” Miranda practically growled, unnerved by the look on her assistant’s face.
“This is New York Methodist Hospital in Brooklyn. Ms. Priestly, an Andrea Sachs was brought in, and according to her photographer, you are her emergency contact.”
Miranda gasped as the words sunk in. Without a thought to those in the room, she stood and hurried back to her office, Emily trailing behind her.
“Is she-“
“She’s alive, Ms. Priestly, but her condition is serious.”
“What happe-“
“All we know is that there was an explosion at a chemical plant.”
“Very well. I’m on my way.” Miranda hung up and tossed the phone on Emily’s desk as she passed it. “Emily, get Roy here immediately. Have Nigel finish that meeting. In fact, have Nigel handle everything today, including the Book. He answers all questions, makes all decisions, at least for the rest of the day.” She grabbed her Blackberry and absently noted the missed call, correctly assuming it was the hospital. She walked back out of her office. “Call Dalton and inform them that I do not want the twins to have access to television, internet, or any other form of news. Have them picked up at their usual time and delivered home. Inform Cara of what has happened and of the same restrictions to news outlets. I will inform the children when I know more. I do not want the New York media to handle that, do you understand?” Miranda took a deep breath. “God, they adore Andrea.”
Emily’s eyes were wide as she scribbled down the instructions. “Is she-“
“They said she’s alive, but it’s serious. An explosion.” Miranda shook her head. “I have to go.” She grabbed her coat and bag from the lesser Emily and hurried out.
Thirty minutes later, she arrived at New York Methodist and swept into the ER like she owned it. She approached reception. “Miranda Priestly for Andrea Sachs,” she quietly informed the harried woman. Miranda shot a look of horror and disgust at her surroundings while she waited for the woman to figure out where her Andrea was.
Her Andrea…
“She’s still down here. Let me get the doctor for you,” the nurse informed her after verifying Miranda’s right to know. Miranda gave a curt nod and stepped back.
A young man approached from the waiting area. “Ms. Priestly?”
Miranda turned to find a filthy young man with two backpacks wringing an equally filthy baseball cap in his scuffed and bleeding hands. The knees of his jeans were ripped, and she could see bloodstains on the material. “Yes?”
The young man cleared his throat. “I’m Chase. Andy’s photog? Chase Atteborough.” He started to stick his hand out but stopped when he saw how nasty it was and how pristine she was.
Miranda, for the first time ever, disregarded the filth, the dirt, the scruff, and focused on his name. She reached out and shook his hand before he could pull it back all the way. “Chase, yes. Andrea has mentioned you many times. She loves working with you.”
Chase nodded and looked away. He swallowed hard. “I’m sorry about Andy, Ms. Priestly. She’s hurt real bad.”
Miranda’s knees weakened at this news and she grabbed at the counter for support. Chase reached a hand out to steady her, not fearing she’d mind since she’d already shaken his hand.
“Call me Miranda, Chase. Can you tell me what happened?”
“There was a fire at Atlas Chemical, so the paper sent us to check it out. Miranda, we were behind the press line, honest. But there was a huge explosion down at the end where we were. Andy was in front. It knocked her back about twenty feet. Then there were paramedics and firefighters and people screaming. I’m sorry, I got here as fast as I could, but it took me a while to find out what hospital they sent her to. She’s been here for almost five hours, Miranda. I’m so sorry. I told them to call you as soon as I got here.”
“Yes, thank you for that, Chase. And I don’t blame you for anything. It was an accident?”
Chase nodded. “That’s what they think. Just the fire spreading to the wrong area or something. To be honest, I’ve kind of lost track of the story since it blew up on us.” He swiped at his brow and rubbed his temple. “No pun intended.”
Miranda smiled weakly. “Are you hurt? I see blood, and you’re massaging your head.”
“I’m fine. Really.”
“Nonsense. You are hurt. And you’re a friend of Andrea’s. I’ll make someone look at you.” She made a move toward the reception nurse, but Chase held up a hand.
“No, really. I appreciate that, but there are a lot more seriously injured people here.”
Miranda narrowed her gaze. Before she could assert her intentions, an exhausted-appearing physician approached.
“Someone here for Andrea Sachs?”
“Yes.” Miranda turned toward him. She motioned for Chase to follow with a jerk of her head. And he caved to the Priestly pressure like everyone always does.