The Devil You Know - Part 8 (final part)
The Devil You Know - Part 8 (final part)
By: mercurial_muse
Fandom: The Devil Wears Prada (film)
Pairing: Miranda/Andy
Archive: Oh, I'd be flattered, but please ask first.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: These characters are owned by Lauren Weisberger and 20th-century Fox, not me. Please don't sue me. Seriously... I'm too poor for it to be worth your while.
Summary: Miranda Priestly has become the most successful woman in the fashion industry, but at what cost?
Previous Parts:
Part 1 Located: http://mercurial-muse.livejournal.com/2535.html
Part 2 Located: http://mercurial-muse.livejournal.com/2585.html
Part 3 Located: http://mercurial-muse.livejournal.com/3006.html
Part 4 Located: http://mercurial-muse.livejournal.com/3110.html
Part 5 Located: http://mercurial-muse.livejournal.com/3421.html
Part 6 Located: http://mercurial-muse.livejournal.com/4046.html
Part 7 Located: http://mercurial-muse.livejournal.com/4123.html
Author’s Note: It feels so good to complete this story, my first ever fanfic. I can definitely say that this will not be my last! Writing this story and sharing it with all of you has been way more fun than it has been nerve-wracking, but I did have a few frustrating moments and have kitnkabootle and grdnofevrythng to thank for getting me through them. I also owe a lot of thanks to everyone who has read and commented on this story. Without your encouragement, there is no way I would have finished this story, and I certainly wouldn't be eager to write more. Thank you so much for your support, everyone!
----------------------------------------------------------
Tears streamed down Andy's face as she hurried down the narrow street, too occupied with navigating around the mobs of trick-or-treaters that packed the sidewalk to look behind her to see if there was even a reason to run anymore. That question was answered for her a moment later when hoots of laughter and catcalls erupted from a group of young men sitting on a stoop just ahead of her. She knew that she had probably drawn their attention in the first place, but it was her pursuer who held it. Dammit... In attempt to ditch the devil at her heels, she picked up her pace and all but skidded around a corner when she reached the next side street.
There was a painfully bright flash of light behind her eyes, and the only sound she heard was the whoosh of air that burst from her lungs and the 'oof' that escaped her lips when the ground seemed to rise up to meet her. When she came to her senses a moment later, she found herself sprawled on the dirty pavement with her legs tangled in a mess someone else's limbs and both of her palms planted on a sloppily-lettered sign that read, 'Repent, sinners! The end is near!'
Shaking her head in an attempt to clear away the colorful blobs that swam across her field of view, she scrambled up onto her hands and knees, only to be sent sprawling again when the grubby man she'd accidentally tackled scrambled to his feet and let out a terrified shriek. As his quickly retreating footfalls echoed all around her, Andy pondered what was making her dizzier, the collision or the stench of alcohol that the drunken zealot had left in his wake.
Andy's vision was clouded by swirls of color once more, billowing red and black, and then there was the comforting weight of a hand on her shoulder as another reached to lift her halo from where it had slid down over one eye. As she got to her feet, the hand on her shoulder slid down to rest against the small of her back, offering support as she stood on rubbery legs. Words of thanks for the good samaritan died on her lips when she looked up to find herself eye to eye with the devil instead.
Andy turned to run but only managed to stagger a few short steps before Miranda reached her side and snaked an arm around her waist. "Andrea..." she began softly. "You need to sit down."
The younger woman shook her head slowly, finding that even that subtle motion brought the dizziness back with a vengeance. "N-no... I don't need..." She took in a shaky breath. "There's no place to..." Andy's words faded into silence as a black town car turned the corner and eased up to the curb just in front of them. "Oh..." she said softly.
Roy slid out from behind the wheel and hurried around to the other side of the car to open the rear door, his own concerned expression matching Miranda's as he watched her help the poor girl into the backseat. Miranda reluctantly tore her eyes away from Andrea to look up at her driver. "Take a walk, Roy," she ordered, but with none of the expected venom.
He nodded and patted the jacket pocket where he kept his cell phone. "Call me when you're ready to go." After taking one last solicitous look at Andy, he eased the car door closed and then ambled off to smoke a cigarette under the streetlamp on the opposite corner.
When the editor turned her attention back to Andrea, she found the girl sitting as far from her as possible, with her back jammed up against the door and her head bowed so low that her chin nearly rested on her chest. Miranda reached out to slide gentle fingers beneath Andrea's chin, to lift her face into the light, but when the younger woman flinched slightly, she jerked her hand back as if it had been burned.
Miranda almost asked her if she was okay, but she already knew the answer and wasn't sure she wanted to hear it spoken out loud. Here she was with a captive audience, and she didn't know what to say, had no idea how to begin to undo the hurt she'd caused.
"What did I do wrong?" Andrea suddenly asked at a near-whisper.
She could have yelled, cursed or rattled off insults, and none of that would have pained Miranda as much as the idea that Andrea thought she was in any way responsible for the damage done to their relationship.
"Oh Andrea..." Miranda swallowed thickly around the lump in her throat, fought to choke back the threat of tears so that she could continue on. "All the wrongdoing is mine, every bit of it."
She smoothed her hands over the front of her skirt, worried one of the wisps of fabric between her fingers, her eyes locked on her hands as if she was doing something incredibly interesting. She couldn't look at Andrea, couldn't risk the girl meeting her gaze and forcing her to see the pain that flooded those deep brown eyes.
"A long time ago, my first divorce left me with a life filled with pain and uncertainty, and I was convinced that falling in love again would only bring more of the same." Twice more, that is exactly what had happened. "When my first husband gave up on me, I watched my personal life turn into a complete failure, and feared that my professional life would soon do the same. That fear persisted until I came to realize that, even with financial ups and downs, ever-changing trends to stay ahead of and a fickle and demanding readership, running a magazine was far easier than being a good wife. So when it came time to cut my losses, the choice wasn't a difficult one."
Telling herself it was only fair that she face the suffering her decisions had brought to Andrea, Miranda let the scrap of fabric she'd been tugging at fall back into her lap and she looked up to see that the girl was staring at her. There was hurt in her eyes, and that had been expected, but there was something else there too, something Miranda couldn't name. She thought it might be pity.
"I made a promise to myself." Miranda tapped a finger to one of the horns on her head. "A deal with the devil, you might say," she added with a smirk. "I promised myself that I would never again put love before success and, until I met you, I was never tempted to break it." Miranda reached out towards Andrea again, gripped one of the younger woman's hands in hers and was instantly aware that it was trembling. "But I would break every promise I've ever made, for you, Andrea."
Miranda inhaled deeply and, with Andrea's hand in hers, she felt like it was the first time she'd breathed in weeks. She dared to feel alive again. She dared to hope. "I don't know if I will ever be worthy of the love you feel for me, but I want to try to be. If you'll just give me another chance..."
Andy drew in a sharp breath and her finger's tightened around Miranda's. Eyes that were wide with shock studied Miranda's face, looking for that calculating glare, her predatory grin, any sign of the shrewd businesswoman who could effortlessly scheme and manipulate herself into or out of just about any situation. There was not so much as a hint of that callous woman, though. What she saw in Miranda's face was sincerity, cautious hope and, most surprising of all, unabashed vulnerability.
Miranda knew the very instant that Andrea chose to forgive her. As she looked on, the pain that had stolen the light from Andrea's eyes faded away and love swept in to banish the darkness. But as quickly as that brightness came, it faltered. Andrea's gaze, which had been focused solely on Miranda wavered, wandered. The younger woman's eyes shifted to stare blankly past Miranda, and the smile that had began to play at the corners of her mouth disappeared. That uncomfortable stillness was shattered when Andrea suddenly pulled her hand from Miranda's and moved to exit the car.
Miranda lunged forward and reached out to grab a hold of Andrea's hand, but she wasn't fast enough. Their fingertips just barely brushed and, only a second later, there was a cool burst of air against the older woman's outstretched hand as the car door was slammed shut. Even as part of her mind screamed at her to get out of the vehicle and go after her, Miranda knew it would be a wasted effort. Andrea had made her choice.
The pain from that realization was almost physical, and Miranda slumped back against the seat, breathless and hurting as if she'd been sucker-punched in the gut. She forced a deep breath into her tightening chest and then curled in on herself as it came out in a soul-tearing sob. With her elbows braced on her knees, she held her face in her hands and cried.
It was in a rather detached way that she heard the car door open, felt the subtle shift of the vehicle as it took on the weight of another passenger. She did her best to quiet her cries, waited for the engine to roar to life and cover the sounds of her torment. When the silence persisted, she imagined Roy watching her in the rearview mirror. "Go," she snapped, her voice muffled behind shaking hands.
"No." The voice was soft, soothing... and definitely not Roy's.
Miranda jerked her head up in surprise, found Andrea staring at her with eyes full of concern.
"Oh God. You thought... Miranda." Andy reached up to cup Miranda's face, ran her thumb across a tear-streaked cheek. "I saw Lily and Doug come around the corner, and I didn't want a repeat of what happened back at my apartment... although Lily did make a few good points," she added with a smirk. Andrea smiled to take the sting out of her words and then reached up to brush her fingers through Miranda's hair. Her fingertips found the slim plastic band hidden beneath the editor's silvery locks and carefully removed the horns from Miranda's head. "I sent them on their way, told them there was somewhere else I needed to be tonight."
"And where is that?" Miranda asked. She thought- hoped -she knew the answer, but needed to hear Andrea say it out loud.
Leaning forwards, Andrea wrapped her arm around Miranda's shoulders and pulled her closer. Miranda threw her arms around the girl and held on tight in a desperate embrace, buried her face in the crook of her neck and reveled in the warmth of Andrea's skin against her cheek.
"Right here, Miranda," Andrea whispered in her ear. "Right here."
(the end)
By: mercurial_muse
Fandom: The Devil Wears Prada (film)
Pairing: Miranda/Andy
Archive: Oh, I'd be flattered, but please ask first.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: These characters are owned by Lauren Weisberger and 20th-century Fox, not me. Please don't sue me. Seriously... I'm too poor for it to be worth your while.
Summary: Miranda Priestly has become the most successful woman in the fashion industry, but at what cost?
Previous Parts:
Part 1 Located: http://mercurial-muse.livejournal.com/2535.html
Part 2 Located: http://mercurial-muse.livejournal.com/2585.html
Part 3 Located: http://mercurial-muse.livejournal.com/3006.html
Part 4 Located: http://mercurial-muse.livejournal.com/3110.html
Part 5 Located: http://mercurial-muse.livejournal.com/3421.html
Part 6 Located: http://mercurial-muse.livejournal.com/4046.html
Part 7 Located: http://mercurial-muse.livejournal.com/4123.html
Author’s Note: It feels so good to complete this story, my first ever fanfic. I can definitely say that this will not be my last! Writing this story and sharing it with all of you has been way more fun than it has been nerve-wracking, but I did have a few frustrating moments and have kitnkabootle and grdnofevrythng to thank for getting me through them. I also owe a lot of thanks to everyone who has read and commented on this story. Without your encouragement, there is no way I would have finished this story, and I certainly wouldn't be eager to write more. Thank you so much for your support, everyone!
----------------------------------------------------------
Tears streamed down Andy's face as she hurried down the narrow street, too occupied with navigating around the mobs of trick-or-treaters that packed the sidewalk to look behind her to see if there was even a reason to run anymore. That question was answered for her a moment later when hoots of laughter and catcalls erupted from a group of young men sitting on a stoop just ahead of her. She knew that she had probably drawn their attention in the first place, but it was her pursuer who held it. Dammit... In attempt to ditch the devil at her heels, she picked up her pace and all but skidded around a corner when she reached the next side street.
There was a painfully bright flash of light behind her eyes, and the only sound she heard was the whoosh of air that burst from her lungs and the 'oof' that escaped her lips when the ground seemed to rise up to meet her. When she came to her senses a moment later, she found herself sprawled on the dirty pavement with her legs tangled in a mess someone else's limbs and both of her palms planted on a sloppily-lettered sign that read, 'Repent, sinners! The end is near!'
Shaking her head in an attempt to clear away the colorful blobs that swam across her field of view, she scrambled up onto her hands and knees, only to be sent sprawling again when the grubby man she'd accidentally tackled scrambled to his feet and let out a terrified shriek. As his quickly retreating footfalls echoed all around her, Andy pondered what was making her dizzier, the collision or the stench of alcohol that the drunken zealot had left in his wake.
Andy's vision was clouded by swirls of color once more, billowing red and black, and then there was the comforting weight of a hand on her shoulder as another reached to lift her halo from where it had slid down over one eye. As she got to her feet, the hand on her shoulder slid down to rest against the small of her back, offering support as she stood on rubbery legs. Words of thanks for the good samaritan died on her lips when she looked up to find herself eye to eye with the devil instead.
Andy turned to run but only managed to stagger a few short steps before Miranda reached her side and snaked an arm around her waist. "Andrea..." she began softly. "You need to sit down."
The younger woman shook her head slowly, finding that even that subtle motion brought the dizziness back with a vengeance. "N-no... I don't need..." She took in a shaky breath. "There's no place to..." Andy's words faded into silence as a black town car turned the corner and eased up to the curb just in front of them. "Oh..." she said softly.
Roy slid out from behind the wheel and hurried around to the other side of the car to open the rear door, his own concerned expression matching Miranda's as he watched her help the poor girl into the backseat. Miranda reluctantly tore her eyes away from Andrea to look up at her driver. "Take a walk, Roy," she ordered, but with none of the expected venom.
He nodded and patted the jacket pocket where he kept his cell phone. "Call me when you're ready to go." After taking one last solicitous look at Andy, he eased the car door closed and then ambled off to smoke a cigarette under the streetlamp on the opposite corner.
When the editor turned her attention back to Andrea, she found the girl sitting as far from her as possible, with her back jammed up against the door and her head bowed so low that her chin nearly rested on her chest. Miranda reached out to slide gentle fingers beneath Andrea's chin, to lift her face into the light, but when the younger woman flinched slightly, she jerked her hand back as if it had been burned.
Miranda almost asked her if she was okay, but she already knew the answer and wasn't sure she wanted to hear it spoken out loud. Here she was with a captive audience, and she didn't know what to say, had no idea how to begin to undo the hurt she'd caused.
"What did I do wrong?" Andrea suddenly asked at a near-whisper.
She could have yelled, cursed or rattled off insults, and none of that would have pained Miranda as much as the idea that Andrea thought she was in any way responsible for the damage done to their relationship.
"Oh Andrea..." Miranda swallowed thickly around the lump in her throat, fought to choke back the threat of tears so that she could continue on. "All the wrongdoing is mine, every bit of it."
She smoothed her hands over the front of her skirt, worried one of the wisps of fabric between her fingers, her eyes locked on her hands as if she was doing something incredibly interesting. She couldn't look at Andrea, couldn't risk the girl meeting her gaze and forcing her to see the pain that flooded those deep brown eyes.
"A long time ago, my first divorce left me with a life filled with pain and uncertainty, and I was convinced that falling in love again would only bring more of the same." Twice more, that is exactly what had happened. "When my first husband gave up on me, I watched my personal life turn into a complete failure, and feared that my professional life would soon do the same. That fear persisted until I came to realize that, even with financial ups and downs, ever-changing trends to stay ahead of and a fickle and demanding readership, running a magazine was far easier than being a good wife. So when it came time to cut my losses, the choice wasn't a difficult one."
Telling herself it was only fair that she face the suffering her decisions had brought to Andrea, Miranda let the scrap of fabric she'd been tugging at fall back into her lap and she looked up to see that the girl was staring at her. There was hurt in her eyes, and that had been expected, but there was something else there too, something Miranda couldn't name. She thought it might be pity.
"I made a promise to myself." Miranda tapped a finger to one of the horns on her head. "A deal with the devil, you might say," she added with a smirk. "I promised myself that I would never again put love before success and, until I met you, I was never tempted to break it." Miranda reached out towards Andrea again, gripped one of the younger woman's hands in hers and was instantly aware that it was trembling. "But I would break every promise I've ever made, for you, Andrea."
Miranda inhaled deeply and, with Andrea's hand in hers, she felt like it was the first time she'd breathed in weeks. She dared to feel alive again. She dared to hope. "I don't know if I will ever be worthy of the love you feel for me, but I want to try to be. If you'll just give me another chance..."
Andy drew in a sharp breath and her finger's tightened around Miranda's. Eyes that were wide with shock studied Miranda's face, looking for that calculating glare, her predatory grin, any sign of the shrewd businesswoman who could effortlessly scheme and manipulate herself into or out of just about any situation. There was not so much as a hint of that callous woman, though. What she saw in Miranda's face was sincerity, cautious hope and, most surprising of all, unabashed vulnerability.
Miranda knew the very instant that Andrea chose to forgive her. As she looked on, the pain that had stolen the light from Andrea's eyes faded away and love swept in to banish the darkness. But as quickly as that brightness came, it faltered. Andrea's gaze, which had been focused solely on Miranda wavered, wandered. The younger woman's eyes shifted to stare blankly past Miranda, and the smile that had began to play at the corners of her mouth disappeared. That uncomfortable stillness was shattered when Andrea suddenly pulled her hand from Miranda's and moved to exit the car.
Miranda lunged forward and reached out to grab a hold of Andrea's hand, but she wasn't fast enough. Their fingertips just barely brushed and, only a second later, there was a cool burst of air against the older woman's outstretched hand as the car door was slammed shut. Even as part of her mind screamed at her to get out of the vehicle and go after her, Miranda knew it would be a wasted effort. Andrea had made her choice.
The pain from that realization was almost physical, and Miranda slumped back against the seat, breathless and hurting as if she'd been sucker-punched in the gut. She forced a deep breath into her tightening chest and then curled in on herself as it came out in a soul-tearing sob. With her elbows braced on her knees, she held her face in her hands and cried.
It was in a rather detached way that she heard the car door open, felt the subtle shift of the vehicle as it took on the weight of another passenger. She did her best to quiet her cries, waited for the engine to roar to life and cover the sounds of her torment. When the silence persisted, she imagined Roy watching her in the rearview mirror. "Go," she snapped, her voice muffled behind shaking hands.
"No." The voice was soft, soothing... and definitely not Roy's.
Miranda jerked her head up in surprise, found Andrea staring at her with eyes full of concern.
"Oh God. You thought... Miranda." Andy reached up to cup Miranda's face, ran her thumb across a tear-streaked cheek. "I saw Lily and Doug come around the corner, and I didn't want a repeat of what happened back at my apartment... although Lily did make a few good points," she added with a smirk. Andrea smiled to take the sting out of her words and then reached up to brush her fingers through Miranda's hair. Her fingertips found the slim plastic band hidden beneath the editor's silvery locks and carefully removed the horns from Miranda's head. "I sent them on their way, told them there was somewhere else I needed to be tonight."
"And where is that?" Miranda asked. She thought- hoped -she knew the answer, but needed to hear Andrea say it out loud.
Leaning forwards, Andrea wrapped her arm around Miranda's shoulders and pulled her closer. Miranda threw her arms around the girl and held on tight in a desperate embrace, buried her face in the crook of her neck and reveled in the warmth of Andrea's skin against her cheek.
"Right here, Miranda," Andrea whispered in her ear. "Right here."
(the end)