Amberlight, Part 9/13
Title: Amberlight
Fandom: AU The Devil Wears Prada
Pairing: Miranda/Andy
Rating:Mature
Summary: A year after Paris, Andy has her life on track again, she's rocketing to success in her job at the Mirror and her freelance work has caused her to be taken under the wing of one of New York's elite writers. So, it's obvious that it's about time for fate to throw a wrench into the works once again.
Author's Note: Yes, they're slower to be updated than I promised. Blame WoW. Seriously. Between the raiding schedule, and my search for a new job, I haven't had the inspiration to transfer the longhand to typing. But we are in the home-stretch so the wait won't be that much longer!
Amberlight, Part 9
The veranda's emptiness struck a chord inside Andy as she stood staring at the door back into the house. Uncertainty prickled at the base of her neck. Being told that she was going to grow fur, fangs, and bay at the moon wasn't really her thing. It was there, but behind a nice pane of glass. She could brush it aside for the night, couldn't she?
The prickle at the base of her neck caught her attention again and she absently rubbed a hand along the short hairs there. She wasn't chilly, the autumn weather was a bit warmer this year than previous. Besides, her outfit had enough layers and fabric to keep her warm without a jacket, though not by much. She knew it wasn't the story, or from Doctor Michaels' presence earlier. Her gaze roamed over the terracotta tiles beneath her feet, studying the mosaic she had stepped over previously. It was an abstract circular pattern that spiraled out to encompass the entire veranda. Each arm of the pattern pulled her gaze to the center were a silver disc shimmered with the last rays of the sun.
As intriguing a pattern as it was, it wasn't what made her hair stand up. She frowned, then shook her head once with a quick jerk to try and clear away the prickle. She made it to the door in seven steps, careful to not scuff the silver in the center. Her hand felt surprisingly cool against the metal of the door handle, despite the mild weather. She pulled the door open and couldn't help that her journalistic instincts all pointed to a missed detail somewhere.
Inside, the house was more than warm. It was toasty enough to make Andy wish she could tug off the fleece long-sleeve she was wearing. She folded her sleeves up to her upper forearms, hoping that would suffice until she could weave through the large house to her quarters in the east wing. Up ahead, where the parlor and foyer were, voices carried through the halls back to her. Andy picked out Miranda's voice first off, the tone impatient and unamused. Elizabeth's lighter, more airy accented voice filtered into her hearing next, then a few voices she'd never be able to match to a face without seeing the speaker.
She paused in the middle of the walkway and looked to her left. Elizabeth had once shown her the old servant stairwells in the back of the house in case she had ever needed to escape a party or a function without making it obvious with a dash up the main parlor stairs. Sure enough, tucked behind a large potted frond was a small alcove that turned into wooden stairs that led up into the dim second-story. She took the stairs two at a time and shut the door behind her. She felt like an intruder, sneaking through the back ways to avoid everyone. Her quarters were closer to the parlor stairs, so even though she was tiptoeing and doing her best to stick to the maid passages through the hall, she found herself staring out over the parlor railing down to floor below.
A few seconds after she peeked over, a party of one man and three women flowed into her view from underneath the balcony she stood on. Andy recalled that the hall below her led off into the den. The four wore ankle-length linen robes that Andy saw tied in the front, just underneath one's sternum. She recognized three of them as Elizabeth, the good doctor, and Miranda, but she couldn't attach a name to the fourth woman. In the pale light of the parlor's wall-mounted lamps, Andy could make out the line of their bodies. They were nude beneath the robes, that much was clear. So clear that Andy fought down a blush that she could note that the hours that Miranda spent at the gym and in yoga classes worked. Worked well, in fact.
The front door closed and voices came from the part of the foyer that Andy's spot wasn't able to peek on without her moving or leaning over the rail. Voices preceded a man and a woman, both wearing the light linen robes. They went to Elizabeth first, air-kissing her, then to Miranda, giving her the same greeting.
“Shannan, Joesph. I hope the drive was lovely.” Elizabeth cupped the woman's, Shannan's, chin and tilted it up so she could stare into her face. After a second, Shannan dropped her gaze and took a step back. Elizabeth seemed satisfied and repeated the gesture with the man, Joesph. He too, dropped his gaze without a sound and took a step back. “Don't be late again. It's a hassle to have Martin wait at the front gate to lock up after you arrive. He does have a family to go home to.”
“My client was adamant I didn't leave the office until the paperwork came back signed and legalized. I couldn't drop everything without risking losing a hefty closing sum.”
“Really.” Elizabeth's lips pursed. “Next time, don't schedule a meeting so close to the moon. All we need is you losing control and mauling up a pretty little celebrity.”
Shannan's gaze stayed lowered. “Yes Elizabeth.” She seemed to shrink behind Joesph. He looked up at her movement.
“James told me we had a guest for tonight?” He asked Elizabeth, fiddling with the hem of one sleeve absently.
“Did he?” Elizabeth's attention slid to James, and then uncannily slid upwards to the balcony. Andy pressed herself into the shadows, hoping that she hadn't been spotted. Miranda's gaze followed the other woman's, and while Elizabeth paid more heed to the darkened hall on the other side from Andy, more to where her room was located, Miranda's was unerringly on her, even with the shadows offering cover. “My surprise is spoiled then.”
“A new member?”
Elizabeth's attention went back to her party. “The other sort of guest, Joesph. I detest having loose ends.” Miranda's brow shot up, and her lips pressed into a thin line as she swept her gaze back to Elizabeth. “I send my staff away for a reason, there could be an accident. However, this guest can't leave so ...it's a loose end that I have no control over.” She patted Miranda's shoulder. “Come, let's move to the south veranda. The moon's already risen.”
The six disappeared below her and their voices faded, but Andy gave it a count-to-120 in her head before she stepped from her cover and hurried to her room. The hallway was still dark, Elizabeth kept the lights off in the parts of the house she wasn't in, and probably suspected Andy was already tucked away in her room for the night. It didn't help that it only fed into Andy's overactive imagination about something jumping out to eat her. The prickle at the base of her neck returned as she pushed open her door.
The moon's luminous gaze made the prickle turn into a sharp tingle that rocketed down her spine and settled in her toes. It hadn't been painful, but the jolt startled her. Andy stared at the window opposite the door and out to the full moon hanging low over the horizon. She used to love the autumn moon rise when she was younger, laying out in a Ohio field, munching on candy-corn and making up a story about how the moon and the sun were always playing tag. Now, though, framed with heavy curtains, the moon was a sinister intruder. The jolt from the initial glance faded into a heat that spread from the base of her spine, up into her hair, cradling her from behind like an old flame that never truly left one's heart. She stepped forward and yanked the curtains shut, blocking out the silver sight.
The room was cast into darkness. Andy blinked, her eyes adjusting to the sudden visibility change. Even with the moon gone, the warmth clung to her. Then it changed again, now to the telling weight of eyes upon her back. The presence felt in her apartment a night before, it seemed like a lifetime to her now, was once again behind her. Andy clenched a fist.
“I know you're there.” Her voice was a hoarse whisper, the previous night's fear already seeping into her bones, chasing away any warmth she once had. “You can't do anything to me. You're just a hallucination. Miranda said so. You're a dream-thing, so just ...go away.”
The monster gave no response.
Andy felt her nails bite into her palm. “Whatever you are, whoever you are. I'm better than you. I'm stronger than you. Miranda believes I can overcome this, so ...just go away. Ok?”
It snorted. It sounded like laughter, if a monster-wolf could laugh.
Laughter that ticked her off. With all the fury she could muster, Andy spun about and faced the beast. The beast was shrouded by the room's darkness but the eyes still held that ghostly fire. It stood in the doorway, made ever larger by the gloom behind it.
The fear seized her heart and squeezed. The warmth vanished. Andy was alone, she was trapped, and this time she wasn't going to wake up. Miranda wasn't here. In fact, she was going to fail Miranda by becoming wolf-food. “Miranda ...”
“She offered me what I wanted to offer you: Power. Prestige. The strength to survive the world of New York's elite.”
“...They don't understand the potential you've shown...”
Miranda's answering smile was absolutely devilish.
The wolf before her growled, but the sound was indecisive, and confused. It's prey was supposed to cower, not daydream.
Andy's mind filled with pictures and sounds when Miranda's name went over her lips. The wolf in the door disappeared from her attentions.
There was nothing in her bedroom save the giant white wolf that sat on her bed as if it was a damned queen on a throne.
The wolf in the room snarled.
The wolf in her mind only stared quietly, studying her, appraising her, and finding her worthy. Miranda had found her worthy, and damn it, she was going to follow Miranda's decision. Andy opened her eyes and stared defiantly at the menace. She stepped forward.
“I faced down the devil in her own lair. I walked through hell and came out unscathed. You think you're scary? You have no idea. You're nothing, you're a puppy. A cute, fuzzy, puppy.” She took another step forward.
The wolf lunged. Teeth bared, it aimed for her throat. It's front paws hit her like a freight-train and she toppled backwards towards the window. Warm breath bathed her throat, and she felt the graze of fangs. Her heart stopped, her eyes locked with the amber of her attacker's and then she pushed back.
A dark shape slammed into the lunging wolf and threw it from her. Andy felt the sill slam sharply into the back of her head and slumped with a cry of pain to the floor. Two wolves squared off before her, all fangs and snarls and growling. They circled each other in her blurry vision.
She felt nauseous. Perhaps if she just closed her eyes for a little while ...
“Wake up!”
What? She was awake.
“Damn it, wake up!”
Why was someone shouting. She could hear them just fine.
“I knew you'd be trouble from the start.” A sharp sting skittered along her cheek as whoever was yelling slapped her.
“Ow!” She whimpered, then yelped as the sound made her head pound. “That hurt!”
“I would rather have you hurt than murdered.” Hands settled under her arms and tugged her upright. “Come on, shake off the blow to the head. We need you up and able to run.”
Run? Andy blinked once, twice, and winced at the bright light assaulting her vision. A third blink cleared her vision enough to see that she was still in her room, the wolves were gone, and it was a man's hands holding her up.
“Can you stand on your own?”
Andy turned to meet the anxious Doctor Michaels' gaze. “What are you--”
“You're not safe here.”
“I - damn straight I'm not safe. You all want to kill me!”
“That's not the important part. The important part is that something's not right.”
Andy fixed him with a “no, really” look that Lily had perfected when they were going to High School. She had had it used on her so much that it was perfectly fine to toss it on others.
He caught the meaning instantly and let go, watching her stumble to gain her bearings. “This isn't the time. Something's not right.”
Andy wondered when it was that she crossed into the twilight zone. “I'm lost. This morning ...you wanted to kill me because you guys think I'm this close from snapping.” She rubs the back of her head. “Now you want me to trust you and just flee because you said so?”
He nodded. “Do you have another choice?”
“I could stay in here.”
“And in here, you're a sitting duck.”
“What are you so worried about? You want me dead.”
“There's been only two times I've seen Miranda Priestly worry. The first time was when she was worried about the custody battle with her first husband. Greg or Jacob or Johnson.” He stares at the window. “When Elizabeth mentioned you tonight was the second.”
Andy watched him watch the moon. “Miranda's scared for me?”
“I would think so.” His expression was blank. She neared him and tried to meet his eyes, but he was fixated on the moon. His eyes shimmered oddly between their normal color and the amber of a wolf.
The wolf was a dark reddish-brown, it's eyes fading from the ghostly coloration to a vivid amber that burned as it inched closer.
The realization hit her gut like a block of cement and she backed up hard against the wall, her heart stopping for an instant. “Oh, my god.”
Time slowed down as he turned towards her, his face superimposed over the features of a large wolf. “I think Miranda has many valid reasons to be terrified for you tonight, Andrea. You should have locked your door.” His straight, immaculate teeth flashed to fangs that made steak knives look like toothpicks. The flickering of the two, the man and the beast, quickened to the point where it wasn't obvious what was the real image. “You should have left New York the day you left Runway.”
Andy couldn't breathe. She was a caged rabbit and he was moving to block her in.
“Run, Andrea.”
The order was a starting gun for her muscles. She pushed off that back wall and tore towards the door, feeling the brush of air as an arm reached out to grab the air where she just was. The hallway behind the door was a gaping maw of darkness, but it was a better survival tactic then staying in the room. She bolted out and had the thought to turn around and grab the door handle. Doctor Michaels, now a pony-sized wolf, snarled and lunged too late to catch her before the door slammed shut with a loud thud. Andy stood in the bleak hallway terrified, but alive.">
***
Part Eight
Fandom: AU The Devil Wears Prada
Pairing: Miranda/Andy
Rating:Mature
Summary: A year after Paris, Andy has her life on track again, she's rocketing to success in her job at the Mirror and her freelance work has caused her to be taken under the wing of one of New York's elite writers. So, it's obvious that it's about time for fate to throw a wrench into the works once again.
Author's Note: Yes, they're slower to be updated than I promised. Blame WoW. Seriously. Between the raiding schedule, and my search for a new job, I haven't had the inspiration to transfer the longhand to typing. But we are in the home-stretch so the wait won't be that much longer!
Amberlight, Part 9
The veranda's emptiness struck a chord inside Andy as she stood staring at the door back into the house. Uncertainty prickled at the base of her neck. Being told that she was going to grow fur, fangs, and bay at the moon wasn't really her thing. It was there, but behind a nice pane of glass. She could brush it aside for the night, couldn't she?
The prickle at the base of her neck caught her attention again and she absently rubbed a hand along the short hairs there. She wasn't chilly, the autumn weather was a bit warmer this year than previous. Besides, her outfit had enough layers and fabric to keep her warm without a jacket, though not by much. She knew it wasn't the story, or from Doctor Michaels' presence earlier. Her gaze roamed over the terracotta tiles beneath her feet, studying the mosaic she had stepped over previously. It was an abstract circular pattern that spiraled out to encompass the entire veranda. Each arm of the pattern pulled her gaze to the center were a silver disc shimmered with the last rays of the sun.
As intriguing a pattern as it was, it wasn't what made her hair stand up. She frowned, then shook her head once with a quick jerk to try and clear away the prickle. She made it to the door in seven steps, careful to not scuff the silver in the center. Her hand felt surprisingly cool against the metal of the door handle, despite the mild weather. She pulled the door open and couldn't help that her journalistic instincts all pointed to a missed detail somewhere.
Inside, the house was more than warm. It was toasty enough to make Andy wish she could tug off the fleece long-sleeve she was wearing. She folded her sleeves up to her upper forearms, hoping that would suffice until she could weave through the large house to her quarters in the east wing. Up ahead, where the parlor and foyer were, voices carried through the halls back to her. Andy picked out Miranda's voice first off, the tone impatient and unamused. Elizabeth's lighter, more airy accented voice filtered into her hearing next, then a few voices she'd never be able to match to a face without seeing the speaker.
She paused in the middle of the walkway and looked to her left. Elizabeth had once shown her the old servant stairwells in the back of the house in case she had ever needed to escape a party or a function without making it obvious with a dash up the main parlor stairs. Sure enough, tucked behind a large potted frond was a small alcove that turned into wooden stairs that led up into the dim second-story. She took the stairs two at a time and shut the door behind her. She felt like an intruder, sneaking through the back ways to avoid everyone. Her quarters were closer to the parlor stairs, so even though she was tiptoeing and doing her best to stick to the maid passages through the hall, she found herself staring out over the parlor railing down to floor below.
A few seconds after she peeked over, a party of one man and three women flowed into her view from underneath the balcony she stood on. Andy recalled that the hall below her led off into the den. The four wore ankle-length linen robes that Andy saw tied in the front, just underneath one's sternum. She recognized three of them as Elizabeth, the good doctor, and Miranda, but she couldn't attach a name to the fourth woman. In the pale light of the parlor's wall-mounted lamps, Andy could make out the line of their bodies. They were nude beneath the robes, that much was clear. So clear that Andy fought down a blush that she could note that the hours that Miranda spent at the gym and in yoga classes worked. Worked well, in fact.
The front door closed and voices came from the part of the foyer that Andy's spot wasn't able to peek on without her moving or leaning over the rail. Voices preceded a man and a woman, both wearing the light linen robes. They went to Elizabeth first, air-kissing her, then to Miranda, giving her the same greeting.
“Shannan, Joesph. I hope the drive was lovely.” Elizabeth cupped the woman's, Shannan's, chin and tilted it up so she could stare into her face. After a second, Shannan dropped her gaze and took a step back. Elizabeth seemed satisfied and repeated the gesture with the man, Joesph. He too, dropped his gaze without a sound and took a step back. “Don't be late again. It's a hassle to have Martin wait at the front gate to lock up after you arrive. He does have a family to go home to.”
“My client was adamant I didn't leave the office until the paperwork came back signed and legalized. I couldn't drop everything without risking losing a hefty closing sum.”
“Really.” Elizabeth's lips pursed. “Next time, don't schedule a meeting so close to the moon. All we need is you losing control and mauling up a pretty little celebrity.”
Shannan's gaze stayed lowered. “Yes Elizabeth.” She seemed to shrink behind Joesph. He looked up at her movement.
“James told me we had a guest for tonight?” He asked Elizabeth, fiddling with the hem of one sleeve absently.
“Did he?” Elizabeth's attention slid to James, and then uncannily slid upwards to the balcony. Andy pressed herself into the shadows, hoping that she hadn't been spotted. Miranda's gaze followed the other woman's, and while Elizabeth paid more heed to the darkened hall on the other side from Andy, more to where her room was located, Miranda's was unerringly on her, even with the shadows offering cover. “My surprise is spoiled then.”
“A new member?”
Elizabeth's attention went back to her party. “The other sort of guest, Joesph. I detest having loose ends.” Miranda's brow shot up, and her lips pressed into a thin line as she swept her gaze back to Elizabeth. “I send my staff away for a reason, there could be an accident. However, this guest can't leave so ...it's a loose end that I have no control over.” She patted Miranda's shoulder. “Come, let's move to the south veranda. The moon's already risen.”
The six disappeared below her and their voices faded, but Andy gave it a count-to-120 in her head before she stepped from her cover and hurried to her room. The hallway was still dark, Elizabeth kept the lights off in the parts of the house she wasn't in, and probably suspected Andy was already tucked away in her room for the night. It didn't help that it only fed into Andy's overactive imagination about something jumping out to eat her. The prickle at the base of her neck returned as she pushed open her door.
The moon's luminous gaze made the prickle turn into a sharp tingle that rocketed down her spine and settled in her toes. It hadn't been painful, but the jolt startled her. Andy stared at the window opposite the door and out to the full moon hanging low over the horizon. She used to love the autumn moon rise when she was younger, laying out in a Ohio field, munching on candy-corn and making up a story about how the moon and the sun were always playing tag. Now, though, framed with heavy curtains, the moon was a sinister intruder. The jolt from the initial glance faded into a heat that spread from the base of her spine, up into her hair, cradling her from behind like an old flame that never truly left one's heart. She stepped forward and yanked the curtains shut, blocking out the silver sight.
The room was cast into darkness. Andy blinked, her eyes adjusting to the sudden visibility change. Even with the moon gone, the warmth clung to her. Then it changed again, now to the telling weight of eyes upon her back. The presence felt in her apartment a night before, it seemed like a lifetime to her now, was once again behind her. Andy clenched a fist.
“I know you're there.” Her voice was a hoarse whisper, the previous night's fear already seeping into her bones, chasing away any warmth she once had. “You can't do anything to me. You're just a hallucination. Miranda said so. You're a dream-thing, so just ...go away.”
The monster gave no response.
Andy felt her nails bite into her palm. “Whatever you are, whoever you are. I'm better than you. I'm stronger than you. Miranda believes I can overcome this, so ...just go away. Ok?”
It snorted. It sounded like laughter, if a monster-wolf could laugh.
Laughter that ticked her off. With all the fury she could muster, Andy spun about and faced the beast. The beast was shrouded by the room's darkness but the eyes still held that ghostly fire. It stood in the doorway, made ever larger by the gloom behind it.
The fear seized her heart and squeezed. The warmth vanished. Andy was alone, she was trapped, and this time she wasn't going to wake up. Miranda wasn't here. In fact, she was going to fail Miranda by becoming wolf-food. “Miranda ...”
“She offered me what I wanted to offer you: Power. Prestige. The strength to survive the world of New York's elite.”
“...They don't understand the potential you've shown...”
Miranda's answering smile was absolutely devilish.
The wolf before her growled, but the sound was indecisive, and confused. It's prey was supposed to cower, not daydream.
Andy's mind filled with pictures and sounds when Miranda's name went over her lips. The wolf in the door disappeared from her attentions.
There was nothing in her bedroom save the giant white wolf that sat on her bed as if it was a damned queen on a throne.
The wolf in the room snarled.
The wolf in her mind only stared quietly, studying her, appraising her, and finding her worthy. Miranda had found her worthy, and damn it, she was going to follow Miranda's decision. Andy opened her eyes and stared defiantly at the menace. She stepped forward.
“I faced down the devil in her own lair. I walked through hell and came out unscathed. You think you're scary? You have no idea. You're nothing, you're a puppy. A cute, fuzzy, puppy.” She took another step forward.
The wolf lunged. Teeth bared, it aimed for her throat. It's front paws hit her like a freight-train and she toppled backwards towards the window. Warm breath bathed her throat, and she felt the graze of fangs. Her heart stopped, her eyes locked with the amber of her attacker's and then she pushed back.
A dark shape slammed into the lunging wolf and threw it from her. Andy felt the sill slam sharply into the back of her head and slumped with a cry of pain to the floor. Two wolves squared off before her, all fangs and snarls and growling. They circled each other in her blurry vision.
She felt nauseous. Perhaps if she just closed her eyes for a little while ...
“Wake up!”
What? She was awake.
“Damn it, wake up!”
Why was someone shouting. She could hear them just fine.
“I knew you'd be trouble from the start.” A sharp sting skittered along her cheek as whoever was yelling slapped her.
“Ow!” She whimpered, then yelped as the sound made her head pound. “That hurt!”
“I would rather have you hurt than murdered.” Hands settled under her arms and tugged her upright. “Come on, shake off the blow to the head. We need you up and able to run.”
Run? Andy blinked once, twice, and winced at the bright light assaulting her vision. A third blink cleared her vision enough to see that she was still in her room, the wolves were gone, and it was a man's hands holding her up.
“Can you stand on your own?”
Andy turned to meet the anxious Doctor Michaels' gaze. “What are you--”
“You're not safe here.”
“I - damn straight I'm not safe. You all want to kill me!”
“That's not the important part. The important part is that something's not right.”
Andy fixed him with a “no, really” look that Lily had perfected when they were going to High School. She had had it used on her so much that it was perfectly fine to toss it on others.
He caught the meaning instantly and let go, watching her stumble to gain her bearings. “This isn't the time. Something's not right.”
Andy wondered when it was that she crossed into the twilight zone. “I'm lost. This morning ...you wanted to kill me because you guys think I'm this close from snapping.” She rubs the back of her head. “Now you want me to trust you and just flee because you said so?”
He nodded. “Do you have another choice?”
“I could stay in here.”
“And in here, you're a sitting duck.”
“What are you so worried about? You want me dead.”
“There's been only two times I've seen Miranda Priestly worry. The first time was when she was worried about the custody battle with her first husband. Greg or Jacob or Johnson.” He stares at the window. “When Elizabeth mentioned you tonight was the second.”
Andy watched him watch the moon. “Miranda's scared for me?”
“I would think so.” His expression was blank. She neared him and tried to meet his eyes, but he was fixated on the moon. His eyes shimmered oddly between their normal color and the amber of a wolf.
The wolf was a dark reddish-brown, it's eyes fading from the ghostly coloration to a vivid amber that burned as it inched closer.
The realization hit her gut like a block of cement and she backed up hard against the wall, her heart stopping for an instant. “Oh, my god.”
Time slowed down as he turned towards her, his face superimposed over the features of a large wolf. “I think Miranda has many valid reasons to be terrified for you tonight, Andrea. You should have locked your door.” His straight, immaculate teeth flashed to fangs that made steak knives look like toothpicks. The flickering of the two, the man and the beast, quickened to the point where it wasn't obvious what was the real image. “You should have left New York the day you left Runway.”
Andy couldn't breathe. She was a caged rabbit and he was moving to block her in.
“Run, Andrea.”
The order was a starting gun for her muscles. She pushed off that back wall and tore towards the door, feeling the brush of air as an arm reached out to grab the air where she just was. The hallway behind the door was a gaping maw of darkness, but it was a better survival tactic then staying in the room. She bolted out and had the thought to turn around and grab the door handle. Doctor Michaels, now a pony-sized wolf, snarled and lunged too late to catch her before the door slammed shut with a loud thud. Andy stood in the bleak hallway terrified, but alive.">
***
Part Eight