Corruption, Purity and Desire - (3/14)
Title: Corruption, Purity and Desire
author: ragelikeafire
rating: r
pairing: andy/miranda
Disclaimer: The Devil Wears Prada does not belong to me. No infringement intended to Lauren Weisberger and 20th Century Fox. All characters are purely fictional. Thanks to various crime fiction for the inspiration behind the dialogue.
Summary: Two and a half years after leaving Runway; Andy Sachs is now working as an investigative journalist for a New York newspaper. Miranda Priestly continues her reign as The New York Fashion Queen, but under the surface the cracks are beginning to form. The unfortunate events of one cold winter’s evening force them to face the unrelenting demon that hides in the shadows. When do you run and when do you stand your ground?
WARNING: There are some scenes of violence and heavy language. If you are easily offended or squeamish I DO NOT suggest that you read this!
A/N: Your comments are like kisses!
A/N2: Edited (03 Jan 2011)
<1> - <2>
Part three
The chair was clearly not designed with comfort in mind. Nevertheless, Miranda had experienced far worse in her lifetime. Earlier that evening she had kicked off her breakneck heels and felt some relief- in that-the seat was at least spacious enough to curl her legs up. The blanket however-circa 1972-surely belonged in a homeless shelter not a cutting edge hospital?
‘Just close your eyes for ten minutes.’ Miranda tried to reason with herself. ‘You are exhausted, rest for a bit.’ Miranda let her eyes close and listened to the beeping rhythmically around her, within seconds she slipped into a deep sleep.
The screeching alarms ripped Miranda from slumber. Disoriented and sore from the position she had been forced into-on the less than comfortable chair- it took her a few seconds to slide back into reality, Andrea.
The legions of machines were announcing their dissatisfaction in a fanfare of alarms. Miranda leapt from the chair and to Andrea’s side. The young woman was awake, clearly confused and scared. Panic, pure unadulterated fear had clearly gripped Andrea; Miranda could see it in her eyes. She took the young woman’s hand on instinct, just as a medical team burst through the door.
A tall man in scrubs bustled past Miranda as the room was illuminated with light. “I need you to step back Ma’am” The man spoke as he broke the grip of their hands.
“What’s happening?” Miranda asked without answer. She could hear the fear in her own voice.
Another Doctor joined the room. A tall, blonde woman-the type of woman who should be on a catwalk not a hospital ward- swept in and the took the hand that Miranda had been pulled away from. A nurse reached forward to silence the alarms and the blonde Doctor spoke calmly and softly to the panicked patient.
“Andrea? Andrea, sweetheart look at me!" Andy locked eyes with the Doctor. “I am Doctor Miller. You have been in an accident. You are in the hospital, but you are going to be just fine. You had a little trouble breathing in the operating room so we had to put this tube in to help you.” The Doctor swept her hand gently down Andrea’s cheek and continued her reassuring words. “I know it is uncomfortable, I know you are scared but I need you to calm down. Can you do that for me?” Andrea nodded and then broke the stare; her eyes flittered around the people in the room, finally fixing on Miranda again.
The doctor turned to Miranda “Can I suggest that you wait outside, this may not be pretty.”
“I’m not going anywhere!” Miranda stated. This fact was non-negotiable.
The Doctor turned back to her patient. “Ok, Andrea. We are going to take the tube out now. This is going to feel weird, but it will be over really quickly.” She offered her instructions as she carefully removed the tape that had been holding the tube firmly in place. “On the count of three, I need you take a deep breath, and then a long breath out as I pull the tube out. Ready?” Andy nodded her head. “Ok, one, two, three.” The tube came out in one smooth motion. Andy gagged and coughed uncontrollably, unable to stop the vomit that followed behind it.
Andy tried to speak but her throat was so dry and sore that she only managed a small croak. She laid her head back on the pillow, her movements were still restricted from all the wires and she felt incredibly weak.
The medical team carried on working around her for a short while longer, before the Doctor addressed Andrea again. “We are all done here! Nurse May will be bring you some ice chips to help your throat, your friend can give them to you when you are ready. I’ll be back to check on you a little while.” the doctor beamed a radiant smile at both Andy and Miranda then left the room as decisively as she had entered.
Friend? Wait! Miranda? Andy took a second to pull her thoughts together.
The two women were now alone in the room. Andy took a moment to evaluate the situation. She had lived through what she could only describe as: the worse twenty-four hours of her life. Now, she thought. ‘What the hell was Miranda doing there? Was it a gift or further punishment?’ Andy prayed for the former.
The door clicked open and a woman in white scrubs, whom Andy presumed to be Nurse May entered. The nurse handed Miranda a cone shaped cup and then began to fiddle with a few buttons on a machine, leaving the room a few minutes later without a word.
Alone again, Miranda sighed and gestured to the cup. “Shall we?” Andy nodded her response. Miranda stepped forward approaching the bed and gripped some of the ice between her well-manicured fingers.
Andy parted her lips and allowed Miranda to place them in her mouth. She felt Miranda’s thumb run tenderly across her bottom lip and as she looked up into the deep sapphire pools, she could instantly read the concern and fear in her eyes.
A single tear ran down the young woman’s colourless cheek, which Miranda brushed away as she cupped her face with her hand. “Don’t cry its ok. You are safe now.” She whispered.
Andy began to sob silently and this time Miranda ran her fingers through the top of Andrea’s brown locks. “No more of this nonsense Andrea.” She whispered again softly. “I want you to close your eyes and relax. I will be here when you wake up.”
“Yes Miranda.” Her sweet voice was husky and forced.
Miranda wiped away a stray tear as it slid down her own perfect white cheek and she turned to reach for the chair that she had been sleeping in to pull it closer to the bed. Rummaging in her bag she pulled out her BlackBerry®, to check the time. “Urrrrhhhh.” Miranda groaned through a breath. ‘Five-forty-two in the morning. There is no point in trying to sleep now.’ She thought as she rolled her eyes.
And so Miranda took out The Book, a pad of post it notes and her Visconti fountain pen to revisit her scathing comments from just a few hours ago. She could feel Andrea’s eyes watching her, as she sat in the chair and pulled her bare feet up beneath her body.
Seeing the shoeless feet reminded Andy of another time and place and she allowed herself to smile. The rhythmic beeps from the machinery surrounded her and she took comfort in the turning of the pages and scratching of the pen on the pad. Reminiscing, she wondered what soul-destroying comments and insults were spilling from the pen, help her mind to drift and into sleep.
Alas, the peaceful sleep did not last, the darkness crept in and demons came knocking on her door. A sudden flash of memory landed, and a realisation that the nightmare was real. Andrea’s eyes flew open and she reached out grabbing Miranda’s shoulder, feeling the pain as she stretched. Miranda jumped violently at the unexpected movement.
“My Dictaphone!?” Andrea rasped.