Dum dum duuummmm... :]
Today starts the most wonderful thing ever. The DWP Fest has begun! Feel free to post your stories here today, tomorrow, and .... until everyone forgets about this place. ;)
To start off this whole thing, here's my lovely piece of contribution. I hope you like it. :]
Title: 5 Nights
Pairing: Mirandy
Rating: NC-17
Prompt: Four reasons that Miranda slept in her office and one reason she didn't. Via:
i_heart_cuddy
Disclaimer: C'mon, are we still having to do this? lol. Do. Not. Own.
Summary: See the Prompt, dearies.
Author's Note: This piece is not beta'd, so any mistakes are my own. Please don't hit me.
Feedback: I will send you cookies. I'm starving.
Genre: Angst, I believe.
Miranda glanced at the clock perched just above her on her office wall. It read 11:04pm. By this time, Andrea would have already had the twins in bed, and would most likely either be reading, or nodding off to sleep herself. Tonight, Miranda knew, Andrea wouldn't wait up for her as she did on most nights. The nights where the passion was heated after a long day of being apart, without the other's body there to look at, and touch.
No.
Miranda thought. She would not think about that. Not when her lover was being so obviously naive. Not when Miranda felt like ripping the younger woman's head off. (Or maybe biting it...Kissing....Sucking on the neck) Miranda shuddered.
11:05pm.
Miranda sighed. The work before her had become a blur to her eyes many hours ago. She took her glasses off, rubbing the bridge of her nose. Her mind hurt. Her heart hurt. Everything hurt.
She let her eyes wander to the couch that was settled at the opposite side of her office. Most people at Runway thought it was just for show, very few had ever, ever seen it used. Miranda had only let one person see her use it. For she had used it a total of four times, and all for a place to sleep. Miranda supposed that number was undoubtedly going to change.
11:07pm.
Miranda's mind suddenly flew, as it sometimes did when she was upset. It flew to memories she would rather forget, but something never let her quite fully let go. Four scenes flooded through her temples, into the cinema of her skull.
----
A younger, blonde Miranda Priestly could be seen by all that were subtly peeking into the raging woman's office. Ordinarily, she could have easily spotted them, but she was younger, less experienced, and most definitely full of anger.
"Mother, I do not appreciate your tone." Miranda's voice wavered, but it never rose.
...
"No, I don't want to kill you. Yes, I know he's sick."
...
"Father never liked me anyways. Have Rosalyn watch after him. She is his 'favorite daughter'."
...
"He will be perfectly fine. Its not even serious."
...
"I will not speak to you when you are yelling like a madwoman."
...
"Are we through?"
...
"Fine. Send my love."
...
"Mother, I respect you dearly. But if you ever say something so vile to me again, I will have you arrested. That's all."
*click*
Everyone in Runway clambered around and rushed to get back to their hiding places.
"Elizabeth."
....
"Elizabeth."
The first and only assistant came running, out of breath into Miranda's office.
"Yes, Miranda?"
"Go get me a coffee. Hot. Then, you're fired. Try being prompt at your next pathetic job. That's all."
Most people would have brushed off the coffee request, thinking that if they were fired, what was the point? Elizabeth wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, so she nodded and ran out, eager to escape Miranda's death stare.
"Nigel."
He was there quicker.
"Miranda?"
"Find me a new assistant. Before tomorrow morning. That's all."
A few hours later, Miranda got another call from her mother, telling her that her father had passed away. It was around 9pm, and Miranda had put in some late hours. Hardly anyone was there, and when she got the call, she ordered the rest of the staff to go home, she would review the book here. As soon as she was absolutely sure the last of the employees had gone, Miranda opened her desk drawer and pulled out a family picture that included her mother, father, herself, and Rosalyn. Her mother was solemn, as always. Those blue eyes piercing the souls of whoever gazed upon them. Her father looked somewhat happier, a smile on his face, a lift in his manner. That's how it always was. Rosalyn was a copy of their father, while Miranda shared eerily similar qualities with Carolina Princhek. Miranda set the photo down and hugged herself. She looked over to the couch, made for show, in pristine condition. She didn't think she could go home. Not tonight. She laid down on the sofa and stared off into the brightly lit night. After a meaningful amount of time, she barely noticed the tears streaming down her cheeks. It wasn't long until she was out cold, dreaming of happier times.
---
The second scenario was a few years later. Miranda tried hard not to remember, but the thoughts came rushing before she could stop them. It was so hard.
---
A now partially ivory haired Miranda sat in the bathroom of her office at 8pm, staring at a piece of idiotic technology that damned her. She felt humiliated, touching something she had to physically pee on. Now, she felt more. A sense of joy, and intense nausea. Gregory wouldn't like this. He hadn't wanted kids. Miranda had silently wanted one when she was younger, in her 20's, maybe. But not now. She was growing older. What could she offer a child beyond constant ridicule for being Miranda Priestly's spawn?
She tossed the incredibly infuriating pregnancy test in the trash can, and covered it up so no one would find it. Boy, wouldn't that be something? Sure would give Page Six something to rant on and on about. She could see the headlines when this got out, IF this got out.
Miranda Priestly, The Devil in Heels - Having Satan Spawn, should we kill the child or feel sorry for it?
Miranda sighed heavily, and pulled out her cellphone, retreating back into her office.
"Gregory, its me.."
...
"No, I'm not hurt. As far as I know."
...
"I have something to tell you."
...
"No, it can't wait. I need you to listen. Now."
...
"This is more important than a damn business meeting, Gregory."
...
"I..I'm pregnant."
...
"I'm not joking. Do I sound like I'm joking?"
...
"Of course I'm on the pill. Obviously, it has failed."
...
"I will not sue a company because you can't put on a condom, Gregory."
...
"You can't mean that."
...
"You think I did this on purpose?"
...
"How dare you."
...
"Go to hell, Gregory."
...
"Well then tell my dear friends down there I said hello. I want your things out of my house tomorrow. That's all."
Miranda slammed the phone shut and threw it across the room, shattering it when it hit the wall. Miranda looked down at her stomach, and rubbed her torso in small circles.
"I'm here, bobbsie. Whatever happens, I'm here."
Miranda went to sleep that night, hungry. And feeling very alone.
------
11:09pm
Miranda couldn't find herself trying to restrict these memories anymore. It had been so long since she'd relived them. Tears stung her eyes at the hurtful things her first husband had said. Especially when he never talked to the girls now. He'd wanted nothing to do with them. Miranda slumped and let the remaining thoughts overtake her.
------
It was 2001, and a fully white head of hair was staring her sister straight in the eyes. Rosalyn walked straight into Miranda's office at 6pm, right before Miranda called Emily so Roy could pick her up. Her sister was slightly taller, with a head of dark brown hair, and fierce blue eyes, just alike to Miranda's, only a shade darker.
"Are you going to come to Momma's funeral?" Rosalyn's disappointment and anger were clear, because her emotions were not quite as in tact as Miranda's.
"I see no reason. Mother despised me. I despised her. No need to clarify that, yes?"
Rosalyn's eyes narrowed.
"You are a cruel, despicable woman Miranda. I hope you rot."
Miranda paused, slightly taken aback. Her younger sister had never been so harsh to her. They had once been close.
"You just might get your wish, Rosalyn."
Miranda stormed (in a Miranda way) out of the office, grabbing her coat and bag from Emily, aiming to leave as quickly as possible.
"She was so proud of you, Miranda! Why couldn't you see it?! She loved you so much!" Rosalyn pleaded.
Miranda stopped, and turned around.
"What did you say?"
Rosalyn's bravery as a Princhek took over, and she stepped right up to her older sister.
"She kissed the ground you walked on, Your Majesty. She talked about you all the time, but you were too busy being a frigid bitch to notice!"
"Get out of this building, or I swear I'll call security." Miranda hissed through her teeth.
"No problem. I'm just leaving."
Rosalyn practically ran out of the doors, bound to knock anything down if it got in her way. Nothing and no one did. Miranda looked around, and everyone frantically tried to look as if they'd been working. Miranda left, and returned later that night. Tears stained her cheeks over the loss of not only her mother... but the relationship she knew was lost with her sister.
As she drifted off to sleep, she wondered why the world felt so cold...
------
The most recent scenario took little to bring to mind. For someone had been there to calm her tears. Quiet her fears. Miranda let her mind wander once more.
------
Miranda was at one of the finest restaurants in New York in mid 2006. At a business dinner, she looked stunning in a black and red gown. Her facade of laughter and smiling had nothing on the acting she'd have to do shortly. Halfway through dinner, Miranda saw a familiar figure on the arm of a beautiful redhead, waiting to be seated. Stephen. Her Stephen. Who was supposed to be watching her daughter's tonight. Miranda's (although fake) smile faded instantly.
Miranda quickly said she had a restroom run to make, and swiftly made her way to Stephen's newly seated table. She spied and saw this redhead (who couldn't be older than 27) laughing and smiling. Miranda held a pang of jealousy. Miranda Priestly did not get jealous.
"Stephen."
Stephen's eyes got wide and he fumbled his words.
"M..Mi..Miran..Miranda...umm... this.. is... this is.. a coworker. She...is in... you know.. that.."
"Oh for God's sake, at least lie quickly!" Miranda hissed.
Stephen looked frightened. "I'm trying!"
Miranda was furious, and the young woman looked scared. "Is this your wife? Should I leave?"
Stephen started, "No, it'll be fi--."
Miranda's eyes narrowed considerably.
"What's your name, toddler?"
The scorn that dripped from her voice was not missed, and the younger woman flinched.
"Olivia."
"What a dreadful name. Olivia, if you don't leave this instant, I will personally make sure you never work in this tri-state area again. Do you understand?"
The girl called Olivia just nodded frantically and left in a hurry.
Miranda's eyes quickly went back to Stephen. "I want your things out. I want you out. I don't ever want to see you again. Is that clear?"
Miranda didn't wait for an answer. She left, and called Roy, telling him to pick her up outside the restaurant.
"Take me to Elias-Clarke."
Roy nodded.
Miranda entered the outer office, tears already pouring out of her eyes, taking place as soon as she entered the building. A shocked Andrea greeted her. The brunette was sitting at her desk, typing away at the keyboard. What she was typing remained a mystery to this day. She looked up, frightened, and saw Miranda, crippled... weak. Distraught.
"I..Miranda...are you--" The girl stopped. Miranda had remembered overhearing Emily the day she hired Andrea.
Do not ask Miranda anything.
"Go home, Andrea. I want to be alone. If you say anything about what you've seen, I will know it was you, and you'll be out of a job. Most likely out of an entire career. That's all."
Miranda walked hurriedly past a completely shocked assistant, and went into the bathroom to see how bad her makeup looked. She could do this. She could compose herself until Andrea left.
A soft knock was heard on the door. Miranda snapped up, and tried to look fierce, ready to lash out at her assistant. She opened the door, and was surprised to see a teary eyed Andrea standing there.
Andrea's voice was low and caring.
"What did he do to you?"
Miranda was stiff for a few moments. Taken aback, she just shook her head slowly. How did the girl know?
"What are... what are you talking about?"
Andrea almost stopped, but didn't. She stepped closer, and wiped the tear that had fallen absently. Damn tears. Damn girl.
"I see it in your eyes."
Andrea stepped even closer, her breath on Miranda's. Miranda nearly fell into the girl. How long had she been that weak? Andrea caught Miranda's lips with her own, drowning all thoughts of Stephen in the warmth. Miranda whimpered quietly and stumbled. Andrea caught her quickly, and ushered her to the nearby couch. The couch.
That night was spent in Andrea's arms, on that very couch. She slept, and somehow... everything was going to be okay. She had fallen for Andrea in her sleep. Impossible? Miranda didn't think so.
------
Miranda almost smiled in the memories of that fond night. Andrea had countered Stephen's dickery with her own brand of eternal love. Three years since then, and it seemed now like everything around Miranda was once again, going to fall apart. Who would hold her now? If Andrea was at home, who was left? Miranda sighed and shut down her computer.
Might as well get some sleep, she thought.
Shuffling over to the couch, she lifted one of the cushions to retrieve the cover she kept there. It wasn't expensive, but her mother had made it. After the falling out with Rosalyn, Miranda had brought it to Runway from the townhouse, where it had just been sitting in a closet.
11:11pm
"Make a wish." Miranda muttered under her breath, even though she knew it was silly to believe in such a thing, she couldn't help wishing that everything would be okay. Miranda Priestly had a hard outer shell, and she had been screwed so many times. Her heart was beginning to believe she was unlovable. If Andrea couldn't do it, no one could. Miranda laid down and thought of the conversation from a few hours earlier...and she sobbed.
------
"Miranda, all I'm asking is a few extra hours a week with you, why is that so wrong?" Andrea's voice was high, and she was crying.
"You've known for three years that Runway comes first, Andrea. I have to work this late. Its not an option." Miranda's voice was steady, but she didn't understand how the girl could be so naive.
"What did you say?" Andrea was looking at her in disbelief.
"Are you not listening, Andrea? I said its not an option." Now Miranda was getting frustrated.
"No..no. You said Runway came first." Andrea stood up, and walked to the bathroom from their bedroom, and locked herself in there.
"Andrea. You're being a child." Miranda was exasperated, and in no mood to play good lover.
"I'll be out by Friday." Andrea said through sobs. "I wouldn't want to get in the way."
Miranda forgot what she was going to say. The younger woman had stunned her.
"What did you say?"
Andrea chuckled in sarcasm. "Are you not listening, Miranda? I'm leaving."
Miranda could feel the heat in her rising. She felt the fury engulf her.
"Well, isn't that just convenient? I'm going to the office, do not call me. Put the twins to bed, if that's not conflicting with your selfishness." Miranda spat. And then she was gone.
------
Miranda gasped into the silence as her memories were relived. How stupid could she have been? How badly had she hurt Andrea? Miranda Priestly was never one to openly apologize, but she'd be damned if the greatest person in her life was torn away by her ignorance. Not again.
Miranda got up, folded the blanket, and hid it safe in the hiding place under the cushions. She felt invisible arms gently wrap around her, reassuring. And then they were gone.
"I love you too... Mother." she whispered.
The walk home was long and dark. Miranda had never walked home from Elias-Clarke before, and it was not an easy task. But in New York City, there were always lights somewhere, so her heels didn't get as damaged as she would have thought. She still wouldn't do it again for anything. Well, maybe one thing.
The door opened silently as Miranda slipped the key in. The entire house was quiet, and Miranda was sure everyone was asleep. She gently removed her heels, and started up the three flights of stairs it took to get to the master bedroom. Their bedroom. As soon as she got to the door, she saw the sliver of light under the door.
Miranda was almost afraid. How could she do this? Would Andrea forgive her?
Now or never, Miranda thought. And with that, she calmly pushed the door open slowly.
There was Andrea. Sitting up in bed, face beet red and tear stained. Her eyes were puffy and her makeup gone. Sobbing uncontrollably, almost unaware of Miranda's presence.
Miranda was taken aback at the sight, and then noticed that Andrea was clutching a silver photo frame of both of them and the twins. Their first professional photograph together. It had always been Miranda's favorite.
She barely recognized her voice as her own as she made her feet move slowly toward the woman.
"What have I done to you?" she whispered, her voice faltering for the first time in a long while.
Andrea was shaking violently and didn't reply. Miranda sat on the bed and slipped an arm around her. She stroked her hair and held her tight. Andrea tried to say something, but it took a few tries to get it out.
"I..I..don't make me leave, Miranda. I don't want to."
Miranda felt her heart break all over again. She reached up and wiped the tears that fell from Andrea's eyes. Those deep, hurt eyes. She leaned in closer, feeling the brunette's breath on her own. Her eyes fluttered and her heart swam.
“You're not going anywhere. I'll make sure of that.” Then, Miranda captured Andrea's lips, gently nibbling on her bottom lip. She felt her lover shiver beneath her.
“Miranda..I..we...oh..” Andrea stammered as Miranda cupped her breast through her thin shirt. Miranda reveled in the fact that Andrea wasn't wearing a bra. She could feel Andrea's nipples harden under her teasing thumb.
“I thought about you all day.” Miranda said roughly, kissing Andrea's neck, nipping at the sensitive skin. Andrea's small whimpers were enough to drive Miranda crazy, but then she felt loving hands pulling her blouse over her head, revealing the expensive red bra that Andrea had bought for her a year ago.
Miranda moaned and bit down on Andrea's neck, causing the woman to arch and hiss.
“Fuck...Miranda...” she squirmed and panted.
Then Miranda started going downwards, kissing every inch of the woman she loved, using her nails to softly tickle Andrea's sides. Something that Andrea would never admit to, being so easily embarrassed, but Miranda knew this excited her, and Miranda reveled in the way Andrea squirmed and whimpered and sometimes even giggled at the touch of Miranda's fingers on her sensitive skin.
Andrea arched on the bed, squirming and clutching at the sheets when Miranda got down far enough to be between her legs. Miranda gently helped Andrea remove her panties, and breathed in Andrea's scent. She was already wet. Miranda's hot breath tickled Andrea's clit and made her even more aroused.
“Miranda....please...please...” Andrea writhed against the bed, arching, needing Miranda's tongue on her right then.
Normally, Miranda would have teased her lover, making her wait for up to an hour before satisfying her, but she felt Andrea deserved instant gratification tonight. Miranda buried her nose in the slick curls, making Andrea moan and buck.
“Miranda!” Andrea cried out.
Miranda became weak hearing her name shouted like that from the lips of her lover. She moaned and started gently sucking on Andrea's clit, moving her tongue in all the ways that drove Andrea crazy. Andrea moaned and her breathing suddenly became very irregular as she neared orgasm already.
Miranda's hands reached up and her nails began to massage Andrea's ribs, making the woman writhe, giggle, and occasionally shout obscenities heavenward. Her eyes were shut tight, and her body was going into spasms, unable to handle any more pleasure without going off the deep end.
Before either of them knew how close Andrea really was, she was constricting around Miranda's tongue and bucking off the bed, moaning and screaming.
“God! Fuck! Mir...and...a...a...ah...!” She collapsed on the bed and her breathing fought to get back into rhythm. Her heart fluttered, and she felt weak.
Miranda curled up beside her love near the headboard, and reached out, beckoning Andrea toward her. Andrea obliged, snuggling up to the older woman's body, she was shaking pleasantly now, and all thoughts of the fight were gone for now.
Andrea tried to move, tried to repay Miranda for the mind blowing orgasm she had just experienced, but Miranda shook her head.
“No.. no no. Go to sleep now. We'll talk in the morning. I might even let you return the favor.” Miranda winked.
Andrea weakly nodded and snuggled into Miranda, her breathing slowly returning to normal, and in half an hour, she was out cold.
Miranda laid her head on Andrea's, and reached to turn off the light.
"I'm so sorry, Andrea." She whispered to her sleeping lover. “I'm not going anywhere. I promise.”
There wasn't a lot that was certain that night. But one thing was. Miranda had come home.
They had been saved.