New fic: Sharp Relief, R, Part IV
Title: Sharp Relief
Author: chilly-flame
Pairing: Andy/Miranda
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything related to the Devil or Prada. Alas.
Notes: Huge thanks to my beta, Xander, who read and reread this one a lot as it evolved. Also, I’m not a medical doctor (surprise) but I do my best with research. Finally, this story is based on one of my all-time favorite tv tropes. We’re heading into melodrama territory, folks, but stay with me!
---
Sometime In the middle of the night, Miranda is awakened by an unfamiliar nurse.
“Just need to check you out. I’ll be quick.”
It’s because of the concussion. The woman checks Miranda’s pupils, asks her name, what day it is, and the names of the people in the room. Miranda answers everything correctly, and they chat about how she’s feeling, which is not good, but not terrible. The pain is throughout her whole skull, a low throb, even though she’s medicated. She is also fatigued, but relieved that her symptoms aren’t worse. Her hospital stay will be lengthy with an injury like hers, since it’s necessary to watch her in case she worsens. Miranda has briefly considered asking to be moved back to the city, but at this point she doesn’t want to be easily accessible. While she’d like to see some friends, the press is going to descend at any moment. Staying here at least makes them work for the story.
Once the nurse leaves, Miranda glances down. Andy is sprawled next to her, mouth open, completely exhausted. There are dark smears of color beneath her eyes. With her face free of makeup, Miranda realizes that her skin really is a flawless ivory. It reminds her of her own more advanced age, but only for a second does she feel a twinge of anything resembling uncertainty. Apparently it took someone bashing her on the head to come to her senses.
She doubts Andrea would laugh at that joke. Miranda doesn’t think it’s funny either; during the hours she’s slept, she’s dreamed those moments in the parking lot and bathroom on a loop. She sees the shiny white sink in close up as she falls past it; she remembers the smell of her blood when she woke behind the building. She sees the face of the woman standing behind her, but not the man who hit her. Only his voice echoes in her mind. Perhaps that’s a blessing, but it doesn’t matter now. He’s dead.
Miranda checks on her girls, who are now sleeping in one bed, and dims the light. She tucks her knees against Andrea’s middle and gets comfortable. It doesn’t take long to drop off to sleep.
When she opens her eyes again, the room is light. It must be morning. Andrea’s head rests on her breast, an arm and leg thrown across her body. It’s enormously comforting to listen to her soft snores; Miranda knows it must be love.
Wondering what time it is, she glances up. Nigel and Emily are standing in the middle of the room, watching her. “Miranda,” Emily says. She looks confused.
“Is that Andy?” Nigel asks with a smile.
“Yes,” Miranda says. “Nice to see you too.”
“Oh,” Emily says, jumping. She thrusts an enormous arrangement of flowers forward. “We brought these. My god, Miranda, we’re so happy you’re alive.”
“We are,” Nigel echoes, coming forward to kiss Miranda on both cheeks. “Very much. And it looks like Andy is too.”
“She is,” Miranda replies, “And she is very, very tired. Please keep your voices down.”
Andrea hasn’t moved, and she is still snoring.
“Leslie’s on her way,” Nigel continues, staying quiet as Miranda directed. “She held a press conference at 8 this morning. The press was expecting sordid details of the wreck, or the other person in the car. I think some heads exploded when she said you were alive.”
Miranda enjoys imagining that. “I’d like to see that sometime.”
“It’s already on youtube,” Emily adds. “I’ll show you on the computer if you like.”
“Later,” Miranda says. She expects Andrea would like to see it as well, so she will wait.
“The press should be here any moment, and the police are out front. They’re not going to let them in the building, but we’ll have to be extra vigilant, since you never know. If you see anyone in scrubs who looks suspicious, scream bloody murder.” Nigel folds the empty cot in the center of the room and moves it to the corner. He drags a couple of chairs over closer to her bed, and the noise causes Andrea to stir.
She hums and pulls Miranda closer, lips moving against her throat. It’s not a kiss, but it’s clear that Andrea is a snuggler. Normally Miranda would enjoy the sensation, but right now she’s a little uncomfortable.
“Andrea,” she murmurs. “Wake up.”
Andrea blinks slowly, her eyes glorious and dark. Her mouth curves into a smile. “Miranda,” she whispers. It sounds different than the way she’s said Miranda’s name ever before, and she can’t help but smile in return.
“We have company,” she says. “Nigel and Emily are here.”
Andrea gasps and turns over, falling out of the bed so quickly that Nigel can barely catch her. But he does, looping his arms under her flailing ones as her feet slam against the floor.
“Whoops,” Andrea says as he helps her to her feet. “Hi. I mean, hi. Um. Morning.” She puts a hand to her head, and before anyone can say another word, she slumps against him. He laughs, but Miranda knows immediately that she’s out like a light. She hits the call button repeatedly, and after a moment, Nigel stops laughing. Emily helps him haul Andrea into a chair.
The familiar nurse enters the room and immediately zooms in on Andy. “Uh oh. What happened?”
“She got up fast,” Nigel says, “and went down right away.”
“Okay,” the nurse says. “I’d like to get her to a room and check her out--”
Andrea opens her eyes and takes a breath. “Hi,” she says. “I couldn’t stop it,” she exhales shakily. “It’s happened before.”
“Okay, fine, that’s fine Andy. You think you can get up and walk for me?”
“Sure, yeah.” Nigel helps her up, and she turns to Miranda. “Don’t worry. Be right back.” Gingerly she walks out of the room with Nigel at her elbow, arms hovering in case she falls.
Emily’s eyes follow them until they turn back to Miranda. “That was unexpected,” she says, frowning.
“Which part? Andrea fainting or finding her in my bed?”
Emily tilts her head and takes a seat. “Both, I suppose. Is it what I think it is?”
Miranda almost nods, until she remembers her injury this time. Instead she simply says, “Yes. But don’t assume anything’s been going on under your nose. Between the two of us, yesterday’s events brought things to the surface. It was rather cliché.”
“Glad to hear it. If you two had been carrying on and I didn’t know about it I’d seriously be doubting my skills right now,” she remarks drolly.
Miranda smirks. “No, your skills remain. And I may be in need of them, temporarily, if you’re willing.” Miranda does not demand this; she asks. She hopes Emily will agree. “Andrea is going to leave the job, although she doesn’t know it yet. We… can’t work together now. I believe she will agree, but we’ll have to talk. In any case, she’ll put in her two weeks, and after she does, you will too. I want you in editorial. As for who you hire for both positions, I don’t care who it is as long as he or she can do the job.”
Emily’s face opens up. Her eyes sparkle. “I’d be happy to, Miranda. Whatever you need.”
“I believe I’ll need a lot over the next few weeks, so watch what you offer.”
“I mean it, Miranda. Anything. I can’t tell you--” Emily’s voice breaks; her eyes fill with tears. “Yesterday was terrible.” Tears slide down her cheeks, and she wipes them away quickly. “Sorry, I’m sorry. Don’t know what’s come over me.”
Miranda reaches out, and Emily takes her hand. Miranda never expected this outpouring, but she will accept it. What else can she do?
They sit together, holding hands, until the girls stir behind her. Cassidy barely says good morning before she declares, “I’m hungry.”
Emily seems pleased to have a task at hand; she sets out to find them some breakfast. Miranda reclines and takes deep breaths as the girls rise and unearth their clothes for the day. She isn’t tired, but she can tell that it will be some time before she feels back to fighting form. She gives herself a break, since she almost died barely 24 hours ago.
When the girls emerge from the bathroom, they join her on the bed for hugs. “Where’s Andy?” Caroline asks, brushing out her hair with her fingers.
“She’s with the nurse, darling. She’s not feeling well.”
Cassidy rolls her eyes. “At least she got sick in the right place.”
“Shut up,” Caroline snaps. “Andy totally helped you yesterday. Be nice.”
“Yes, be nice,” Miranda adds. “You must be nice to Andrea from now on. She is very special to me. I-I hope you don’t mind about that.”
Both girls are quiet for a minute. “I guess not,” Cassidy finally replies.
“Me neither,” Caroline adds, far more eager. “She took care of us, Mom. When Dad told us about you, um, dying, she was there. And she never cried at all until last night, when she saw you. For a while I thought she wasn’t even upset. But later I could tell, because her eyes were red, and she looked so funny.”
Miranda is curious. “Funny?”
Cassidy rests her head on Miranda’s shoulder as Caroline answers. “Yeah. Kind of hunched over. And her face was weird. It was scary.”
“I looked weird too, yesterday,” Cassidy says. “I saw myself in the mirror and I looked like someone else,” Cassidy says.
Miranda’s heart skips, and she holds her daughters more tightly.
“I’m normal again today, though,” Cassidy continues. “Like myself. Caroline too.”
Traitorous tears gather in Miranda’s eyes, but this time they don’t fall. “You are both so precious to me, and I love you very much. You must always know that, no matter what happens. If something happens to me, for real next time, just know that I spent every day of your lives loving you.”
“Us too, Mom,” Caroline says, stroking her ribcage with a small hand. “But try not to die, okay?”
Miranda laughs gently. “All right.”
---
The nurse is gentle with Andy, and doesn’t chastise her for forgetting to eat. But Nigel does, until Moira tells him to hush. Someone gives Andy a glass of orange juice, which eases her shaking. Her head clears a little, and the cotton in her ears fades away until she feels almost normal again.
Moira is firm with her instructions. “I want you to eat a good breakfast. Our food isn’t bad but you might want to go next door and get something a little heartier from Aunt Janie’s. You can bring it in.”
Nigel nods. “I’ll do it. What can I get you, Six?”
Andy shrugs. Nothing seems very appetizing, so she says, “Surprise me.”
“Got it. Does Miranda have restrictions? She’d kill me if I don’t bring her some eggs and good coffee.”
Moira winces. “Only decaf, I’m sorry to say. No French toast, or anything high in fat.”
“So eggs are okay?” Nigel almost looks afraid.
“Sure.”
“Okay. Can I bring you anything, Moira? You’ve been lovely, and I can tell you that once Miranda finds out she’s stuck with decaf, you’ll need some sustenance to keep from running out of the room screaming.”
“Normally, I’d say no. But sure. Blueberry pancakes,” Moira replies with a grin. “I’m working a double so it would be absolutely divine.”
“No problem.” Nigel pats Andy on the arm. “No more fainting. Be back as soon as I can.”
Moira leads Andy back to the room and gives Miranda her check up. This time, Andy is not relegated to the hallway during the exam. Neither are the girls, who are dressed in clothes they brought with them. Andy realizes that she’ll have to wear Miranda’s things today, which will be odd and a little exciting. She retrieves a wrap dress that will hang above her knees, but it’s comfortable and fits well enough. As Moira finishes with Miranda, Andy slips into the bathroom to get dressed and clean up. She tries not to worry that she hasn’t changed her underwear, because wearing Miranda’s underwear was just going too far. Maybe she can nip out to a store soon and get some Hanes to hold her over.
When she looks in the mirror, she barely recognizes herself. Her pallor is almost grey, and the hospital lighting doesn’t help. Her eyes are puffy and her cheeks seem sunken; it’s a wonder Miranda can love someone who looks like her. She turns away from her reflection and washes up the best way she can in the sink before pulling on the dress. On her taller frame, it’s surprisingly flattering. She slides on black ballet flats, because heels are just not going to work in a hospital and she’s damned if she’ll slip and kill herself on these floors before she even gets to kiss Miranda properly.
The thought distracts her; kissing Miranda. When can she? When should she? When can they… do more than kiss? She’s been granted her greatest desire, or at least she thinks she has, but it’s all been so confusing. So far they’ve kissed twice, hugged, and cuddled all night long. Her dreams were unsettling, and far from sexy. Yesterday still weighs heavily on her mind.
Aside from the fact that she is so unsettled, Miranda has a head injury. The timing will be interesting, to say the least. She doubts she will have the guts to ask Moira about recovery time as it relates to sex, so she’ll have to clandestinely search on the internet when she has a chance.
When she steps out of the bathroom, Miranda looks over and smiles warmly. The girls are missing, and Miranda correctly interprets the question in her eyes.
“They went on an exploratory mission. I told them not to bother any doctors or get lost, so I’m sure we’ll get a frantic call in a few minutes telling me they’ve interrupted open heart surgery.”
“Ah,” Andy says. When Miranda waves her close, Andy sits at her bedside. “You look good this morning.”
Miranda rolls her eyes. “We both look terrible, I’m sure. Even though I like your dress. I mean my dress,” she quips. “You need to eat-you look like you’re going to fall over again.” Although the bandage impedes her slightly, Miranda still manages to lift an eyebrow. “Does that happen often?”
“Rarely, now,” Andy says. “I just… forgot to eat. My tank was empty last night, and this morning I got up too fast.”
“You didn’t eat?” Miranda asks.
Andy just shrugs. “Yesterday kind of sucked. I wasn’t really in the mood.”
Miranda looks into her eyes, and Andy can’t help it-she cries, again. As she wipes her tears, she mutters, “Low blood sugar.”
“Come here,” says Miranda, and Andy does. One hand strokes Andy’s damp cheek, and Andy has to shut her eyes against the sensation. She sighs and Miranda pulls her in. The kiss is slow and steady, sending warm chills through Andy’s body, just as it did last night. But now Miranda uses her tongue, easing in for a taste, which makes Andy moan. Then they’re really kissing, and Andy feels the ache of desire in her belly. She touches Miranda’s shoulder delicately, afraid to do more. She strokes her collarbone and Miranda breaks away, arching her throat in Andy’s direction. Softly Andy brushes her mouth against the silky skin. She longs so much to do more, but what she longs for more is to tell Miranda what she really feels. She looks up into Miranda’s half-lidded eyes and inhales.
“I love you,” she says, very intently. “I just want you to know that. This isn’t about some kind of hero worship, or hell, I don’t know, me using you to get ahead. I don’t even think it’s a good idea to work for you anymore. I don’t know what I’ll do, but I’ll have to move on.” When Miranda opens her mouth, Andy puts her hand up in defense. “Don’t be mad-I just can’t look at you now and pretend. And all anyone will have to do is look at me to know how I feel. But we don’t have to tell people or anything.” Miranda blinks at this, but doesn’t interrupt. “I don’t mind. I’ll just give notice, and that’s it. Start looking.” She glances over Miranda’s shoulder at the wall, distracted by the idea of job hunting. “I have a lot of contacts now. I’ll put out some feelers. And I mean, the rest of it we’ll just have to figure out. The girls seem to think I’m okay, but it will take time, of course, and I’ll visit you when you’re free, maybe late at night or whatever so no one will get the wrong idea--”
“Oh my god, stop talking,” Miranda says, but there’s no bite to her words. “Before you go completely off the rails, let me have my say, will you?”
Andy grins. “Sorry. Got carried away.”
“I see that. I’ll start somewhere near the beginning. I agree, you should move on. As for jobs, you will have whatever opportunity you like, whether with Elias-Clarke or not. Think about where you want to go, and I’ll help you.”
“I don’t think--” Andy begins.
“I do,” Miranda says, firmly. “You’ve put in your time, and I promised that after a year any door you wanted would open. This is the case for any assistant who lasts that long, and you will be no exception. Most stay at Runway, like Emily will, but others have gone on to competing publications. So don’t consider this special treatment. It will be a step or two above entry level, but something that suits your many talents.”
Andy considers this. Andy has put in more than a year, so theoretically, her reward of a new position is late. This is mainly because she was in no hurry to leave Miranda’s side. “Well, okay.”
“As for everyone knowing, I don’t care a whit. I have no intention of hiding. You mentioned not wanting to pretend, and I am of the same mind. So perhaps you should warn your family and friends, because the news will make quite a splash.”
Andy laughs. “It probably won’t be as exciting as the concept of you coming back from the dead.”
Miranda’s lips tilt in an almost-smile. “I was never actually dead, you know, darling--” The word darling gives Andy a shiver--“but it will certainly distract from our being together. Which also reminds me, stop worrying about coming to the townhouse in the middle of the night. You’ll come and go as you please. Finally, you’re correct, the girls are ‘okay’ with you. Caroline in particular. She seems quite the fan.”
“That’s nice to hear,” Andy replies, smiling. “I like them both.” She’s felt differently about the twins since yesterday-going through their trauma together seems to have bonded her to them. Whether they feel the same doesn’t matter. When she pictures their faces, she sees the love they have for their mother, rather than two sneaky kids out to cause as much trouble as possible.
“As for you,” Miranda says, her voice low and smooth, “I love you too.”
Andy bites her lip, and goosebumps leap across her skin. It’s thrilling to hear the words.
“Now come back here,” Miranda says, but Andy pulls back.
“We should find out if this is okay,” Andy says, her hands held out like a damsel defending herself from a marauder.
Miranda shakes her head slowly. “One more kiss won’t kill me.”
Andy exhales, her eyes sliding shut once, twice, before she relents and melts into Miranda’s embrace.
It’s more than one kiss, and Andy feels Miranda’s hand slipping closer to her breast when someone interrupts them. Andy leaps off the bed like her parents have just busted her for making out in her childhood bedroom. Moira laughs. “Sorry. But you’ve got company.” She turns around and motions with her arm. “Come on, you two.”
Cassidy and Caroline slink in, looking guilty. “It wasn’t my fault!” Cassidy exclaims.
Miranda sighs. Andy figures she’d better get used to this. To her surprise, she doesn’t mind a bit. Seems like a small price to pay for having Miranda in her life. And these two, she’ll take them in the bargain.
---
Miranda is nearly finished chastising her girls for stealing (and donning) hospital scrubs from the storage closet when Nigel and Emily return with huge bags on each arm. “Food!” Nigel announces cheerily. “And coffee. But Moira said decaf for you, Miranda, so no complaints, got it?”
Miranda is tempted to give him some grief, but she resists the impulse. This may be because she has just enjoyed excellent kisses from Andrea, who is still blushing after their interruption. Her head also hurts, probably from caffeine withdrawal complemented by the staples currently holding her head together. It’s going to be a disgusting scar, but once her hair grows back, no one will know.
As Nigel unpacks the many food containers, he says, “The press is here. A handful of trucks and a bunch of reporters. Some of them are already broadcasting from the parking lot, although who knows what they’re saying. Moira said the doctors all know not to go into any details, and they enjoy their privacy up here so I don’t expect anyone’s going to be leaking much of anything about your condition.”
“Well at least it’s not particularly interesting as conditions go,” Miranda quips. “A concussion isn’t going to be much of a story.”
“Mom, I bet we could tell some good stories and get on tv if you wanted. I bet we could send them on a wild goose chase,” Cassidy suggests, as Caroline nods. Miranda sees the matching glint in their eyes, and she is tempted. But her daughters shouldn’t appear on television telling tall tales; they have enough trouble as it is.
“No, darlings, you stay here with me. I don’t want either of you talking to anyone, and that’s all I have to say on the subject.” Nigel hands Miranda a container, which she opens to see eggs, toast and fruit. It looks delicious, and at once Miranda’s stomach realizes it hasn’t had real food in far too long. She actually feels as though she might be sick, and she snags a fork and immediately scoops up a bite. It’s a relief to swallow, and just the feel of it sliding down her throat is comforting. Toast is next, and it’s well buttered. Everything is as tasty as it appears to be, and she catches Andrea watching her as she chews. Miranda points with her fork to Andrea’s own container. “You, eat.”
Andrea grins. “Yes, Miranda.” The cadence is familiar; they might as well be in Miranda’s office as Andrea stands at attention with her notepad. But the look on Andrea’s face is all new; relaxed, affectionate, unafraid.
“Pancakes!” Cassidy shouts. “Are those chocolate chips?”
“They are,” Emily sniffs.
“What are you having, Emily?” Andrea asks as she takes a bite of her eggs.
“Fruit,” Emily mumbles, rifling through their many bags for a fork. She cracks open a small cup of fruit.
“Boring,” Andy says around her eggs. “Didn’t you get anything good for yourself?”
With the usual perturbed sigh, Emily retorts, “Not all of us can get away with carbs every da-“
Miranda interrupts. “Oh Emily, just enjoy something that makes you appreciate being alive, for once,” she says sharply. “You never know when your time is up.”
Emily blushes a little, and after a pause, she shrugs. She leans over one of the bags to find another container. Her eyes glitter as she opens it. “I suppose I can make an exception for a special occasion,” Emily says, slicing into a pile of pancakes. She is not conservative with the syrup, and Miranda tries not to laugh. Emily’s head actually falls back as she chews; it’s clearly a taste of heaven. A moment later, Emily’s eyes focus on the nightstand clock. She blinks and sets her fork down. “God. Almost twenty four hours ago I thought you were dead.”
Andrea looks at the clock as well. She swallows, and Miranda can see the emotion on her face. She takes a deep breath and exhales slowly before glancing at Miranda.
Miranda considers where she was the day before at this time-bleeding, unconscious, lying in the dirt behind a bathroom in the middle of nowhere. It suddenly strikes her as incredible that she actually survived. If the man had hit her one more time, or brought her with him in the car, or if she hadn’t woken when she did-all of those scenarios could easily have resulted in her death. The enormity of what she’s experienced flows over her, and she feels gratitude for her friends, her children, her soon-to-be lover. Something as simple as enjoying breakfast together seems like something to be thankful for. Her nose starts to sting as tears gather in her eyes, and she’s pleased when Cassidy and Caroline begin to chatter about their escapades in the hospital. Only Andrea notices Miranda’s tears, as always. She wants to reach out, to hold her hand or something equally silly, but Andrea is too far away. Andrea reads her mind, placing her breakfast at the foot of Miranda’s bed before approaching and threading their fingers together.
“You lived,” Andrea says, looking deeply into Miranda’s eyes. In this moment, nothing else matters.
“I lived,” Miranda replies. “I lived.”
---
Part V.
Author: chilly-flame
Pairing: Andy/Miranda
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything related to the Devil or Prada. Alas.
Notes: Huge thanks to my beta, Xander, who read and reread this one a lot as it evolved. Also, I’m not a medical doctor (surprise) but I do my best with research. Finally, this story is based on one of my all-time favorite tv tropes. We’re heading into melodrama territory, folks, but stay with me!
---
Sometime In the middle of the night, Miranda is awakened by an unfamiliar nurse.
“Just need to check you out. I’ll be quick.”
It’s because of the concussion. The woman checks Miranda’s pupils, asks her name, what day it is, and the names of the people in the room. Miranda answers everything correctly, and they chat about how she’s feeling, which is not good, but not terrible. The pain is throughout her whole skull, a low throb, even though she’s medicated. She is also fatigued, but relieved that her symptoms aren’t worse. Her hospital stay will be lengthy with an injury like hers, since it’s necessary to watch her in case she worsens. Miranda has briefly considered asking to be moved back to the city, but at this point she doesn’t want to be easily accessible. While she’d like to see some friends, the press is going to descend at any moment. Staying here at least makes them work for the story.
Once the nurse leaves, Miranda glances down. Andy is sprawled next to her, mouth open, completely exhausted. There are dark smears of color beneath her eyes. With her face free of makeup, Miranda realizes that her skin really is a flawless ivory. It reminds her of her own more advanced age, but only for a second does she feel a twinge of anything resembling uncertainty. Apparently it took someone bashing her on the head to come to her senses.
She doubts Andrea would laugh at that joke. Miranda doesn’t think it’s funny either; during the hours she’s slept, she’s dreamed those moments in the parking lot and bathroom on a loop. She sees the shiny white sink in close up as she falls past it; she remembers the smell of her blood when she woke behind the building. She sees the face of the woman standing behind her, but not the man who hit her. Only his voice echoes in her mind. Perhaps that’s a blessing, but it doesn’t matter now. He’s dead.
Miranda checks on her girls, who are now sleeping in one bed, and dims the light. She tucks her knees against Andrea’s middle and gets comfortable. It doesn’t take long to drop off to sleep.
When she opens her eyes again, the room is light. It must be morning. Andrea’s head rests on her breast, an arm and leg thrown across her body. It’s enormously comforting to listen to her soft snores; Miranda knows it must be love.
Wondering what time it is, she glances up. Nigel and Emily are standing in the middle of the room, watching her. “Miranda,” Emily says. She looks confused.
“Is that Andy?” Nigel asks with a smile.
“Yes,” Miranda says. “Nice to see you too.”
“Oh,” Emily says, jumping. She thrusts an enormous arrangement of flowers forward. “We brought these. My god, Miranda, we’re so happy you’re alive.”
“We are,” Nigel echoes, coming forward to kiss Miranda on both cheeks. “Very much. And it looks like Andy is too.”
“She is,” Miranda replies, “And she is very, very tired. Please keep your voices down.”
Andrea hasn’t moved, and she is still snoring.
“Leslie’s on her way,” Nigel continues, staying quiet as Miranda directed. “She held a press conference at 8 this morning. The press was expecting sordid details of the wreck, or the other person in the car. I think some heads exploded when she said you were alive.”
Miranda enjoys imagining that. “I’d like to see that sometime.”
“It’s already on youtube,” Emily adds. “I’ll show you on the computer if you like.”
“Later,” Miranda says. She expects Andrea would like to see it as well, so she will wait.
“The press should be here any moment, and the police are out front. They’re not going to let them in the building, but we’ll have to be extra vigilant, since you never know. If you see anyone in scrubs who looks suspicious, scream bloody murder.” Nigel folds the empty cot in the center of the room and moves it to the corner. He drags a couple of chairs over closer to her bed, and the noise causes Andrea to stir.
She hums and pulls Miranda closer, lips moving against her throat. It’s not a kiss, but it’s clear that Andrea is a snuggler. Normally Miranda would enjoy the sensation, but right now she’s a little uncomfortable.
“Andrea,” she murmurs. “Wake up.”
Andrea blinks slowly, her eyes glorious and dark. Her mouth curves into a smile. “Miranda,” she whispers. It sounds different than the way she’s said Miranda’s name ever before, and she can’t help but smile in return.
“We have company,” she says. “Nigel and Emily are here.”
Andrea gasps and turns over, falling out of the bed so quickly that Nigel can barely catch her. But he does, looping his arms under her flailing ones as her feet slam against the floor.
“Whoops,” Andrea says as he helps her to her feet. “Hi. I mean, hi. Um. Morning.” She puts a hand to her head, and before anyone can say another word, she slumps against him. He laughs, but Miranda knows immediately that she’s out like a light. She hits the call button repeatedly, and after a moment, Nigel stops laughing. Emily helps him haul Andrea into a chair.
The familiar nurse enters the room and immediately zooms in on Andy. “Uh oh. What happened?”
“She got up fast,” Nigel says, “and went down right away.”
“Okay,” the nurse says. “I’d like to get her to a room and check her out--”
Andrea opens her eyes and takes a breath. “Hi,” she says. “I couldn’t stop it,” she exhales shakily. “It’s happened before.”
“Okay, fine, that’s fine Andy. You think you can get up and walk for me?”
“Sure, yeah.” Nigel helps her up, and she turns to Miranda. “Don’t worry. Be right back.” Gingerly she walks out of the room with Nigel at her elbow, arms hovering in case she falls.
Emily’s eyes follow them until they turn back to Miranda. “That was unexpected,” she says, frowning.
“Which part? Andrea fainting or finding her in my bed?”
Emily tilts her head and takes a seat. “Both, I suppose. Is it what I think it is?”
Miranda almost nods, until she remembers her injury this time. Instead she simply says, “Yes. But don’t assume anything’s been going on under your nose. Between the two of us, yesterday’s events brought things to the surface. It was rather cliché.”
“Glad to hear it. If you two had been carrying on and I didn’t know about it I’d seriously be doubting my skills right now,” she remarks drolly.
Miranda smirks. “No, your skills remain. And I may be in need of them, temporarily, if you’re willing.” Miranda does not demand this; she asks. She hopes Emily will agree. “Andrea is going to leave the job, although she doesn’t know it yet. We… can’t work together now. I believe she will agree, but we’ll have to talk. In any case, she’ll put in her two weeks, and after she does, you will too. I want you in editorial. As for who you hire for both positions, I don’t care who it is as long as he or she can do the job.”
Emily’s face opens up. Her eyes sparkle. “I’d be happy to, Miranda. Whatever you need.”
“I believe I’ll need a lot over the next few weeks, so watch what you offer.”
“I mean it, Miranda. Anything. I can’t tell you--” Emily’s voice breaks; her eyes fill with tears. “Yesterday was terrible.” Tears slide down her cheeks, and she wipes them away quickly. “Sorry, I’m sorry. Don’t know what’s come over me.”
Miranda reaches out, and Emily takes her hand. Miranda never expected this outpouring, but she will accept it. What else can she do?
They sit together, holding hands, until the girls stir behind her. Cassidy barely says good morning before she declares, “I’m hungry.”
Emily seems pleased to have a task at hand; she sets out to find them some breakfast. Miranda reclines and takes deep breaths as the girls rise and unearth their clothes for the day. She isn’t tired, but she can tell that it will be some time before she feels back to fighting form. She gives herself a break, since she almost died barely 24 hours ago.
When the girls emerge from the bathroom, they join her on the bed for hugs. “Where’s Andy?” Caroline asks, brushing out her hair with her fingers.
“She’s with the nurse, darling. She’s not feeling well.”
Cassidy rolls her eyes. “At least she got sick in the right place.”
“Shut up,” Caroline snaps. “Andy totally helped you yesterday. Be nice.”
“Yes, be nice,” Miranda adds. “You must be nice to Andrea from now on. She is very special to me. I-I hope you don’t mind about that.”
Both girls are quiet for a minute. “I guess not,” Cassidy finally replies.
“Me neither,” Caroline adds, far more eager. “She took care of us, Mom. When Dad told us about you, um, dying, she was there. And she never cried at all until last night, when she saw you. For a while I thought she wasn’t even upset. But later I could tell, because her eyes were red, and she looked so funny.”
Miranda is curious. “Funny?”
Cassidy rests her head on Miranda’s shoulder as Caroline answers. “Yeah. Kind of hunched over. And her face was weird. It was scary.”
“I looked weird too, yesterday,” Cassidy says. “I saw myself in the mirror and I looked like someone else,” Cassidy says.
Miranda’s heart skips, and she holds her daughters more tightly.
“I’m normal again today, though,” Cassidy continues. “Like myself. Caroline too.”
Traitorous tears gather in Miranda’s eyes, but this time they don’t fall. “You are both so precious to me, and I love you very much. You must always know that, no matter what happens. If something happens to me, for real next time, just know that I spent every day of your lives loving you.”
“Us too, Mom,” Caroline says, stroking her ribcage with a small hand. “But try not to die, okay?”
Miranda laughs gently. “All right.”
---
The nurse is gentle with Andy, and doesn’t chastise her for forgetting to eat. But Nigel does, until Moira tells him to hush. Someone gives Andy a glass of orange juice, which eases her shaking. Her head clears a little, and the cotton in her ears fades away until she feels almost normal again.
Moira is firm with her instructions. “I want you to eat a good breakfast. Our food isn’t bad but you might want to go next door and get something a little heartier from Aunt Janie’s. You can bring it in.”
Nigel nods. “I’ll do it. What can I get you, Six?”
Andy shrugs. Nothing seems very appetizing, so she says, “Surprise me.”
“Got it. Does Miranda have restrictions? She’d kill me if I don’t bring her some eggs and good coffee.”
Moira winces. “Only decaf, I’m sorry to say. No French toast, or anything high in fat.”
“So eggs are okay?” Nigel almost looks afraid.
“Sure.”
“Okay. Can I bring you anything, Moira? You’ve been lovely, and I can tell you that once Miranda finds out she’s stuck with decaf, you’ll need some sustenance to keep from running out of the room screaming.”
“Normally, I’d say no. But sure. Blueberry pancakes,” Moira replies with a grin. “I’m working a double so it would be absolutely divine.”
“No problem.” Nigel pats Andy on the arm. “No more fainting. Be back as soon as I can.”
Moira leads Andy back to the room and gives Miranda her check up. This time, Andy is not relegated to the hallway during the exam. Neither are the girls, who are dressed in clothes they brought with them. Andy realizes that she’ll have to wear Miranda’s things today, which will be odd and a little exciting. She retrieves a wrap dress that will hang above her knees, but it’s comfortable and fits well enough. As Moira finishes with Miranda, Andy slips into the bathroom to get dressed and clean up. She tries not to worry that she hasn’t changed her underwear, because wearing Miranda’s underwear was just going too far. Maybe she can nip out to a store soon and get some Hanes to hold her over.
When she looks in the mirror, she barely recognizes herself. Her pallor is almost grey, and the hospital lighting doesn’t help. Her eyes are puffy and her cheeks seem sunken; it’s a wonder Miranda can love someone who looks like her. She turns away from her reflection and washes up the best way she can in the sink before pulling on the dress. On her taller frame, it’s surprisingly flattering. She slides on black ballet flats, because heels are just not going to work in a hospital and she’s damned if she’ll slip and kill herself on these floors before she even gets to kiss Miranda properly.
The thought distracts her; kissing Miranda. When can she? When should she? When can they… do more than kiss? She’s been granted her greatest desire, or at least she thinks she has, but it’s all been so confusing. So far they’ve kissed twice, hugged, and cuddled all night long. Her dreams were unsettling, and far from sexy. Yesterday still weighs heavily on her mind.
Aside from the fact that she is so unsettled, Miranda has a head injury. The timing will be interesting, to say the least. She doubts she will have the guts to ask Moira about recovery time as it relates to sex, so she’ll have to clandestinely search on the internet when she has a chance.
When she steps out of the bathroom, Miranda looks over and smiles warmly. The girls are missing, and Miranda correctly interprets the question in her eyes.
“They went on an exploratory mission. I told them not to bother any doctors or get lost, so I’m sure we’ll get a frantic call in a few minutes telling me they’ve interrupted open heart surgery.”
“Ah,” Andy says. When Miranda waves her close, Andy sits at her bedside. “You look good this morning.”
Miranda rolls her eyes. “We both look terrible, I’m sure. Even though I like your dress. I mean my dress,” she quips. “You need to eat-you look like you’re going to fall over again.” Although the bandage impedes her slightly, Miranda still manages to lift an eyebrow. “Does that happen often?”
“Rarely, now,” Andy says. “I just… forgot to eat. My tank was empty last night, and this morning I got up too fast.”
“You didn’t eat?” Miranda asks.
Andy just shrugs. “Yesterday kind of sucked. I wasn’t really in the mood.”
Miranda looks into her eyes, and Andy can’t help it-she cries, again. As she wipes her tears, she mutters, “Low blood sugar.”
“Come here,” says Miranda, and Andy does. One hand strokes Andy’s damp cheek, and Andy has to shut her eyes against the sensation. She sighs and Miranda pulls her in. The kiss is slow and steady, sending warm chills through Andy’s body, just as it did last night. But now Miranda uses her tongue, easing in for a taste, which makes Andy moan. Then they’re really kissing, and Andy feels the ache of desire in her belly. She touches Miranda’s shoulder delicately, afraid to do more. She strokes her collarbone and Miranda breaks away, arching her throat in Andy’s direction. Softly Andy brushes her mouth against the silky skin. She longs so much to do more, but what she longs for more is to tell Miranda what she really feels. She looks up into Miranda’s half-lidded eyes and inhales.
“I love you,” she says, very intently. “I just want you to know that. This isn’t about some kind of hero worship, or hell, I don’t know, me using you to get ahead. I don’t even think it’s a good idea to work for you anymore. I don’t know what I’ll do, but I’ll have to move on.” When Miranda opens her mouth, Andy puts her hand up in defense. “Don’t be mad-I just can’t look at you now and pretend. And all anyone will have to do is look at me to know how I feel. But we don’t have to tell people or anything.” Miranda blinks at this, but doesn’t interrupt. “I don’t mind. I’ll just give notice, and that’s it. Start looking.” She glances over Miranda’s shoulder at the wall, distracted by the idea of job hunting. “I have a lot of contacts now. I’ll put out some feelers. And I mean, the rest of it we’ll just have to figure out. The girls seem to think I’m okay, but it will take time, of course, and I’ll visit you when you’re free, maybe late at night or whatever so no one will get the wrong idea--”
“Oh my god, stop talking,” Miranda says, but there’s no bite to her words. “Before you go completely off the rails, let me have my say, will you?”
Andy grins. “Sorry. Got carried away.”
“I see that. I’ll start somewhere near the beginning. I agree, you should move on. As for jobs, you will have whatever opportunity you like, whether with Elias-Clarke or not. Think about where you want to go, and I’ll help you.”
“I don’t think--” Andy begins.
“I do,” Miranda says, firmly. “You’ve put in your time, and I promised that after a year any door you wanted would open. This is the case for any assistant who lasts that long, and you will be no exception. Most stay at Runway, like Emily will, but others have gone on to competing publications. So don’t consider this special treatment. It will be a step or two above entry level, but something that suits your many talents.”
Andy considers this. Andy has put in more than a year, so theoretically, her reward of a new position is late. This is mainly because she was in no hurry to leave Miranda’s side. “Well, okay.”
“As for everyone knowing, I don’t care a whit. I have no intention of hiding. You mentioned not wanting to pretend, and I am of the same mind. So perhaps you should warn your family and friends, because the news will make quite a splash.”
Andy laughs. “It probably won’t be as exciting as the concept of you coming back from the dead.”
Miranda’s lips tilt in an almost-smile. “I was never actually dead, you know, darling--” The word darling gives Andy a shiver--“but it will certainly distract from our being together. Which also reminds me, stop worrying about coming to the townhouse in the middle of the night. You’ll come and go as you please. Finally, you’re correct, the girls are ‘okay’ with you. Caroline in particular. She seems quite the fan.”
“That’s nice to hear,” Andy replies, smiling. “I like them both.” She’s felt differently about the twins since yesterday-going through their trauma together seems to have bonded her to them. Whether they feel the same doesn’t matter. When she pictures their faces, she sees the love they have for their mother, rather than two sneaky kids out to cause as much trouble as possible.
“As for you,” Miranda says, her voice low and smooth, “I love you too.”
Andy bites her lip, and goosebumps leap across her skin. It’s thrilling to hear the words.
“Now come back here,” Miranda says, but Andy pulls back.
“We should find out if this is okay,” Andy says, her hands held out like a damsel defending herself from a marauder.
Miranda shakes her head slowly. “One more kiss won’t kill me.”
Andy exhales, her eyes sliding shut once, twice, before she relents and melts into Miranda’s embrace.
It’s more than one kiss, and Andy feels Miranda’s hand slipping closer to her breast when someone interrupts them. Andy leaps off the bed like her parents have just busted her for making out in her childhood bedroom. Moira laughs. “Sorry. But you’ve got company.” She turns around and motions with her arm. “Come on, you two.”
Cassidy and Caroline slink in, looking guilty. “It wasn’t my fault!” Cassidy exclaims.
Miranda sighs. Andy figures she’d better get used to this. To her surprise, she doesn’t mind a bit. Seems like a small price to pay for having Miranda in her life. And these two, she’ll take them in the bargain.
---
Miranda is nearly finished chastising her girls for stealing (and donning) hospital scrubs from the storage closet when Nigel and Emily return with huge bags on each arm. “Food!” Nigel announces cheerily. “And coffee. But Moira said decaf for you, Miranda, so no complaints, got it?”
Miranda is tempted to give him some grief, but she resists the impulse. This may be because she has just enjoyed excellent kisses from Andrea, who is still blushing after their interruption. Her head also hurts, probably from caffeine withdrawal complemented by the staples currently holding her head together. It’s going to be a disgusting scar, but once her hair grows back, no one will know.
As Nigel unpacks the many food containers, he says, “The press is here. A handful of trucks and a bunch of reporters. Some of them are already broadcasting from the parking lot, although who knows what they’re saying. Moira said the doctors all know not to go into any details, and they enjoy their privacy up here so I don’t expect anyone’s going to be leaking much of anything about your condition.”
“Well at least it’s not particularly interesting as conditions go,” Miranda quips. “A concussion isn’t going to be much of a story.”
“Mom, I bet we could tell some good stories and get on tv if you wanted. I bet we could send them on a wild goose chase,” Cassidy suggests, as Caroline nods. Miranda sees the matching glint in their eyes, and she is tempted. But her daughters shouldn’t appear on television telling tall tales; they have enough trouble as it is.
“No, darlings, you stay here with me. I don’t want either of you talking to anyone, and that’s all I have to say on the subject.” Nigel hands Miranda a container, which she opens to see eggs, toast and fruit. It looks delicious, and at once Miranda’s stomach realizes it hasn’t had real food in far too long. She actually feels as though she might be sick, and she snags a fork and immediately scoops up a bite. It’s a relief to swallow, and just the feel of it sliding down her throat is comforting. Toast is next, and it’s well buttered. Everything is as tasty as it appears to be, and she catches Andrea watching her as she chews. Miranda points with her fork to Andrea’s own container. “You, eat.”
Andrea grins. “Yes, Miranda.” The cadence is familiar; they might as well be in Miranda’s office as Andrea stands at attention with her notepad. But the look on Andrea’s face is all new; relaxed, affectionate, unafraid.
“Pancakes!” Cassidy shouts. “Are those chocolate chips?”
“They are,” Emily sniffs.
“What are you having, Emily?” Andrea asks as she takes a bite of her eggs.
“Fruit,” Emily mumbles, rifling through their many bags for a fork. She cracks open a small cup of fruit.
“Boring,” Andy says around her eggs. “Didn’t you get anything good for yourself?”
With the usual perturbed sigh, Emily retorts, “Not all of us can get away with carbs every da-“
Miranda interrupts. “Oh Emily, just enjoy something that makes you appreciate being alive, for once,” she says sharply. “You never know when your time is up.”
Emily blushes a little, and after a pause, she shrugs. She leans over one of the bags to find another container. Her eyes glitter as she opens it. “I suppose I can make an exception for a special occasion,” Emily says, slicing into a pile of pancakes. She is not conservative with the syrup, and Miranda tries not to laugh. Emily’s head actually falls back as she chews; it’s clearly a taste of heaven. A moment later, Emily’s eyes focus on the nightstand clock. She blinks and sets her fork down. “God. Almost twenty four hours ago I thought you were dead.”
Andrea looks at the clock as well. She swallows, and Miranda can see the emotion on her face. She takes a deep breath and exhales slowly before glancing at Miranda.
Miranda considers where she was the day before at this time-bleeding, unconscious, lying in the dirt behind a bathroom in the middle of nowhere. It suddenly strikes her as incredible that she actually survived. If the man had hit her one more time, or brought her with him in the car, or if she hadn’t woken when she did-all of those scenarios could easily have resulted in her death. The enormity of what she’s experienced flows over her, and she feels gratitude for her friends, her children, her soon-to-be lover. Something as simple as enjoying breakfast together seems like something to be thankful for. Her nose starts to sting as tears gather in her eyes, and she’s pleased when Cassidy and Caroline begin to chatter about their escapades in the hospital. Only Andrea notices Miranda’s tears, as always. She wants to reach out, to hold her hand or something equally silly, but Andrea is too far away. Andrea reads her mind, placing her breakfast at the foot of Miranda’s bed before approaching and threading their fingers together.
“You lived,” Andrea says, looking deeply into Miranda’s eyes. In this moment, nothing else matters.
“I lived,” Miranda replies. “I lived.”
---
Part V.