The Sixth Valentine's Day
The Freakboat and I are at it again! This is our take on the first 14 Valentine's Days. This might not make as much sense to you if you haven't read our previous opus, The Gift of Possibilities, detailing the first 12 Christmases; but this story falls within the universe we created in TGOP.
This madness is all my fault. I blame the hydrocodone.
Disclaimer: The Devil Wears Prada belongs to neither me nor ceelyn . No infringement intended, no money being made. The building belongs to Lauren Weisberger and 20th Century Fox. We're just redecorating. When finished, we will tear down the new curtains and fancy artwork, but leave the festive paint…
Rating: T
Fandom: The Devil Wears Prada
Pairing: Mirandy
-------------------------------------
Sixth ~ Ruari’s
“Andrea.”
“Andrea!” Miranda shook the shoulder closest to her own. “Wake up!”
Andy bolted upright, eyes flying open, lungs heaving. “Miranda!” she gasped.
Miranda sat up next to her wife and placed a hand on Andrea’s back, noting the younger woman’s trembling. “A nightmare. It sounded bad.” She rubbed her hand in soothing circles. “Are you alright?”
Andy shuddered and leaned heavily into Miranda’s side. “It was awful.”
Miranda wrapped an arm around her partner and tugged her back down on the bed. She felt Andrea snuggle closer, her head on her shoulder. “Would you like to tell me about it?” she murmured the question into brunette locks.
“Mmm, it was the Valentine’s Day after I proposed.” Andy groaned as she recalled the dream. “We had invited my parents to town so we could tell them we were getting married.”
Miranda’s brows rose in confusion as she listened to her wife describe her nightmare. After all, she remembered exactly how they had actually spent the evening on that particular Valentine’s Day.
“We were in a private room at one of your swanky restaurants: Per Se, Babbo, La Bernadin…something. I can’t remember which,” Andy murmured into Miranda’s neck. “Doug and Lil were there.”
Miranda twitched in disbelief. “Do you mean to tell me, Andrea, that you dreamed of a scenario where we had planned to inform your parents of our engagement in a public setting?” Miranda shifted until she was on her side, facing Andy in the pre-dawn light filtering into the bedroom. Her brows high on her forehead, she stared at her companion in shock. “In front of your friends?” she continued, voice rising in pitch ever-so-slightly.
Andy smirked and reached out to trace one of Miranda’s eyebrows. “Put that down, Killer. It was just a dream,” she chuckled. “And you haven’t even heard the best parts, yet!”
Miranda groaned. “I’m not sure I’m up for it now.” She jerked Andrea close and cut off her next words with a deep, consuming kiss. Eminent suffocation was the only thing strong enough to break them apart. “Good morning…by the way,” Miranda whispered, her breathing decidedly labored.
“Morning,” Andy breathed out, respirations equally taxed. Moments passed as they shared the quiet break of dawn on their sixth Valentine’s Day together.
Miranda had been running her fingers through Andrea’s hair for about fifteen minutes when the younger woman began to chuckle. She waited, and when no explanation was forthcoming, she calmly inquired, “Something funny?”
Andy just laughed harder. Minutes passed as whatever she found humorous engulfed her demeanor; her body shaking so hard in laughter that the bed shook and Miranda began to smile in sheer reaction. Finally, the brunette settled down long enough to choke out exactly what she found so amusing…
“YOU WERE HAMMERED!!!”
*** *** *** *** ***
“I do not find that at all amusing, Andrea,” Miranda renewed her objection quietly from her place in the bathtub.
“Oh, relax,” Andy admonished softly as she filled a pitcher with hot water from the tap. “Tip your head back.” She gently poured the water through Miranda’s silver-white locks, massaging the suds away. “It wasn’t like it was real. It’s not like I’ve ever seen you drunk.”
Miranda sighed as her wife lovingly tended to her in the most private of ways; a gift bestowed upon Miranda by Andy only on the rarest of occasions. She heard Andrea stand and begin removing her pajamas, prompting her to release the stopper to allow the tub to drain. When she heard the shower come on, Miranda also stood and turned to step out of the bath, only to smile softly at the chivalrous hand Andrea held out to steady her.
Andy helped Miranda out of the bath and into the spacious shower section of the large bathroom, stepping in after her so she could offer a more “personal” service to her bride of six months.
*** *** *** *** ***
Andy finished her gentle toweling of Miranda’s hair, pressing a kiss to the base of the woman’s neck as she moved away. “There. All set for you to make magic.”
Miranda reached out to grab hold of Andrea as she stepped away. She looked up into a loving gaze and quivered internally. Rather than draw attention to her reaction, she merely returned the look and brushed her own lips across Andrea’s wrist, her tongue barely flicking against the soft pulse point. “Thank you. For this morning.” She moved toward the bathroom to finish getting ready for the day but turned back to smirk, “That dream notwithstanding.”
Andy chuckled lightly in response and moved to complete her own morning routine.
Ten minutes later, Miranda entered the closet in time to catch Andrea selecting clothing. “You are the hottest woman alive on any given day, but you were absolutely lethal eight years ago when you wore that Donna Karan skirt with the Bill Blass military jacket.” Andy held up a similar outfit from the current season. “I fell in lust with you that day you wore it to the office. This one’s similar, and I’m still wickedly in lust with you. But now that I’m completely, madly in love with and married to you, I can lust after you and no one will think twice about it.”
Miranda’s lips twisted in amusement as she both acknowledged and agreed to the request with a simple tilt of her head. She took the suit from Andrea’s hand, running her own down a slender arm in passing. “There’s a new little something for you in your bureau,” she murmured as she turned to exit the closet.
A minute later, Andy half gasped, half groaned as she lifted tissue away from the most exquisite La Perla lingerie set she’d ever seen. She sighed. “Thank you, Miranda,” she murmured softly.
Miranda spritzed herself in her signature perfume and took one last look in the mirror before approaching Andrea. “You’re welcome.” She stopped to kiss the brunette quickly before heading out of the room to go wake the twins. At the door, she turned back. “Happy Day, darling.”
Andy just shot her a blinding smile.
*** *** *** *** ***
“Have a good day, my darlings,” Miranda called to her daughters who were exiting the car as it idled in front of their school.
Andy leaned across her wife to call out, “Hey, don’t forget I’m picking you guys up at three this afternoon.”
“We won’t!” Cassidy called back, already racing after Caroline.
Andy laughed and leaned back into the soft leather interior of the Mercedes. “Bet they forget.”
“Mmm,” was the only reaction her words evoked.
After a few minutes of silent travel, Andy reached across the small space to clasp Miranda’s hand, lacing their fingers together but leaving them resting in the editor’s lap. “What are you thinking about?”
Miranda turned her head from the window to look at Andrea. “Your dream.”
Andy just gazed back, her features open and waiting.
“More specifically,” Miranda clarified, “how your parents actually found out about our engagement and why you had the dream in the first place.”
“Ah,” Andy nodded. “I can guess the ‘why,’ I think.” At her wife’s questioning look, Andy explained further. “I spoke with them last night.”
Miranda frowned. “You never mentioned that.”
“We were a little busy last night,” Andy smirked. “The last thing I wanted to think about before, during, and after making love with you was my parents.”
“A valid point, Andrea.” Miranda squeezed the hand clasped to hers. “Was it bad?”
“The usual,” Andy muttered, the discontent evident in her tone.
“Hmm,” was the best Miranda could do as far as commiserating was concerned. “Well, I suppose we can just use the memory of how they really found out about our engagement to boost your spirits,” she dryly continued.
That cracked Andy up. “Oh, yeah,” she laughed. “You mean the…EDICT?!?! That memory?” She grinned at the older woman as the car pulled up outside The New Yorker offices.
Miranda’s lips twitched. “That’s the one.”
Andy leaned in and pressed a kiss to Miranda’s jaw. “Consider them ‘boosted.’ Happy Day,” she murmured.
Miranda watched the journalist exit the vehicle but called out to her before the door could shut. “Andrea.”
Andy leaned her head back in, eyes wide in question.
“Happy Day.”
Andy gifted her wife with her signature smile. “Ping Sex for lunch?” At the editor’s laughing nod, she blew her a kiss. “Love you.” Then she was trotting into the building.
Minutes later, Miranda was once again remembering “The Edict.”
The grin that crossed her face was most decidedly…wicked.
*** *** *** *** ***
Mr. and Mrs. Sachs,
This notice is to inform you I am marrying your daughter, Andrea, on Saturday, August 10, 2013 at our place in the Hamptons. The choice is completely yours as to whether or not to attend.
Please make no mistake. I do not care if you do or don’t attend.
Please make no mistake. I am not asking your permission. I am telling you I am going to marry your daughter.
Please make no mistake. I do not care if you do or do not approve.
And though I would not care if you chose not to attend, I’m sure you realize Andrea would care.
All I care about is that you do not make this difficult for her. Should you choose to do so, I will be very…displeased.
Sincerely,
Miranda Priestly
Many thanks to gloriously tabu, tuathadedanaa, for the following Motivator:
This madness is all my fault. I blame the hydrocodone.
Disclaimer: The Devil Wears Prada belongs to neither me nor ceelyn . No infringement intended, no money being made. The building belongs to Lauren Weisberger and 20th Century Fox. We're just redecorating. When finished, we will tear down the new curtains and fancy artwork, but leave the festive paint…
Rating: T
Fandom: The Devil Wears Prada
Pairing: Mirandy
-------------------------------------
Sixth ~ Ruari’s
“Andrea.”
“Andrea!” Miranda shook the shoulder closest to her own. “Wake up!”
Andy bolted upright, eyes flying open, lungs heaving. “Miranda!” she gasped.
Miranda sat up next to her wife and placed a hand on Andrea’s back, noting the younger woman’s trembling. “A nightmare. It sounded bad.” She rubbed her hand in soothing circles. “Are you alright?”
Andy shuddered and leaned heavily into Miranda’s side. “It was awful.”
Miranda wrapped an arm around her partner and tugged her back down on the bed. She felt Andrea snuggle closer, her head on her shoulder. “Would you like to tell me about it?” she murmured the question into brunette locks.
“Mmm, it was the Valentine’s Day after I proposed.” Andy groaned as she recalled the dream. “We had invited my parents to town so we could tell them we were getting married.”
Miranda’s brows rose in confusion as she listened to her wife describe her nightmare. After all, she remembered exactly how they had actually spent the evening on that particular Valentine’s Day.
“We were in a private room at one of your swanky restaurants: Per Se, Babbo, La Bernadin…something. I can’t remember which,” Andy murmured into Miranda’s neck. “Doug and Lil were there.”
Miranda twitched in disbelief. “Do you mean to tell me, Andrea, that you dreamed of a scenario where we had planned to inform your parents of our engagement in a public setting?” Miranda shifted until she was on her side, facing Andy in the pre-dawn light filtering into the bedroom. Her brows high on her forehead, she stared at her companion in shock. “In front of your friends?” she continued, voice rising in pitch ever-so-slightly.
Andy smirked and reached out to trace one of Miranda’s eyebrows. “Put that down, Killer. It was just a dream,” she chuckled. “And you haven’t even heard the best parts, yet!”
Miranda groaned. “I’m not sure I’m up for it now.” She jerked Andrea close and cut off her next words with a deep, consuming kiss. Eminent suffocation was the only thing strong enough to break them apart. “Good morning…by the way,” Miranda whispered, her breathing decidedly labored.
“Morning,” Andy breathed out, respirations equally taxed. Moments passed as they shared the quiet break of dawn on their sixth Valentine’s Day together.
Miranda had been running her fingers through Andrea’s hair for about fifteen minutes when the younger woman began to chuckle. She waited, and when no explanation was forthcoming, she calmly inquired, “Something funny?”
Andy just laughed harder. Minutes passed as whatever she found humorous engulfed her demeanor; her body shaking so hard in laughter that the bed shook and Miranda began to smile in sheer reaction. Finally, the brunette settled down long enough to choke out exactly what she found so amusing…
“YOU WERE HAMMERED!!!”
*** *** *** *** ***
“I do not find that at all amusing, Andrea,” Miranda renewed her objection quietly from her place in the bathtub.
“Oh, relax,” Andy admonished softly as she filled a pitcher with hot water from the tap. “Tip your head back.” She gently poured the water through Miranda’s silver-white locks, massaging the suds away. “It wasn’t like it was real. It’s not like I’ve ever seen you drunk.”
Miranda sighed as her wife lovingly tended to her in the most private of ways; a gift bestowed upon Miranda by Andy only on the rarest of occasions. She heard Andrea stand and begin removing her pajamas, prompting her to release the stopper to allow the tub to drain. When she heard the shower come on, Miranda also stood and turned to step out of the bath, only to smile softly at the chivalrous hand Andrea held out to steady her.
Andy helped Miranda out of the bath and into the spacious shower section of the large bathroom, stepping in after her so she could offer a more “personal” service to her bride of six months.
*** *** *** *** ***
Andy finished her gentle toweling of Miranda’s hair, pressing a kiss to the base of the woman’s neck as she moved away. “There. All set for you to make magic.”
Miranda reached out to grab hold of Andrea as she stepped away. She looked up into a loving gaze and quivered internally. Rather than draw attention to her reaction, she merely returned the look and brushed her own lips across Andrea’s wrist, her tongue barely flicking against the soft pulse point. “Thank you. For this morning.” She moved toward the bathroom to finish getting ready for the day but turned back to smirk, “That dream notwithstanding.”
Andy chuckled lightly in response and moved to complete her own morning routine.
Ten minutes later, Miranda entered the closet in time to catch Andrea selecting clothing. “You are the hottest woman alive on any given day, but you were absolutely lethal eight years ago when you wore that Donna Karan skirt with the Bill Blass military jacket.” Andy held up a similar outfit from the current season. “I fell in lust with you that day you wore it to the office. This one’s similar, and I’m still wickedly in lust with you. But now that I’m completely, madly in love with and married to you, I can lust after you and no one will think twice about it.”
Miranda’s lips twisted in amusement as she both acknowledged and agreed to the request with a simple tilt of her head. She took the suit from Andrea’s hand, running her own down a slender arm in passing. “There’s a new little something for you in your bureau,” she murmured as she turned to exit the closet.
A minute later, Andy half gasped, half groaned as she lifted tissue away from the most exquisite La Perla lingerie set she’d ever seen. She sighed. “Thank you, Miranda,” she murmured softly.
Miranda spritzed herself in her signature perfume and took one last look in the mirror before approaching Andrea. “You’re welcome.” She stopped to kiss the brunette quickly before heading out of the room to go wake the twins. At the door, she turned back. “Happy Day, darling.”
Andy just shot her a blinding smile.
*** *** *** *** ***
“Have a good day, my darlings,” Miranda called to her daughters who were exiting the car as it idled in front of their school.
Andy leaned across her wife to call out, “Hey, don’t forget I’m picking you guys up at three this afternoon.”
“We won’t!” Cassidy called back, already racing after Caroline.
Andy laughed and leaned back into the soft leather interior of the Mercedes. “Bet they forget.”
“Mmm,” was the only reaction her words evoked.
After a few minutes of silent travel, Andy reached across the small space to clasp Miranda’s hand, lacing their fingers together but leaving them resting in the editor’s lap. “What are you thinking about?”
Miranda turned her head from the window to look at Andrea. “Your dream.”
Andy just gazed back, her features open and waiting.
“More specifically,” Miranda clarified, “how your parents actually found out about our engagement and why you had the dream in the first place.”
“Ah,” Andy nodded. “I can guess the ‘why,’ I think.” At her wife’s questioning look, Andy explained further. “I spoke with them last night.”
Miranda frowned. “You never mentioned that.”
“We were a little busy last night,” Andy smirked. “The last thing I wanted to think about before, during, and after making love with you was my parents.”
“A valid point, Andrea.” Miranda squeezed the hand clasped to hers. “Was it bad?”
“The usual,” Andy muttered, the discontent evident in her tone.
“Hmm,” was the best Miranda could do as far as commiserating was concerned. “Well, I suppose we can just use the memory of how they really found out about our engagement to boost your spirits,” she dryly continued.
That cracked Andy up. “Oh, yeah,” she laughed. “You mean the…EDICT?!?! That memory?” She grinned at the older woman as the car pulled up outside The New Yorker offices.
Miranda’s lips twitched. “That’s the one.”
Andy leaned in and pressed a kiss to Miranda’s jaw. “Consider them ‘boosted.’ Happy Day,” she murmured.
Miranda watched the journalist exit the vehicle but called out to her before the door could shut. “Andrea.”
Andy leaned her head back in, eyes wide in question.
“Happy Day.”
Andy gifted her wife with her signature smile. “Ping Sex for lunch?” At the editor’s laughing nod, she blew her a kiss. “Love you.” Then she was trotting into the building.
Minutes later, Miranda was once again remembering “The Edict.”
The grin that crossed her face was most decidedly…wicked.
*** *** *** *** ***
Mr. and Mrs. Sachs,
This notice is to inform you I am marrying your daughter, Andrea, on Saturday, August 10, 2013 at our place in the Hamptons. The choice is completely yours as to whether or not to attend.
Please make no mistake. I do not care if you do or don’t attend.
Please make no mistake. I am not asking your permission. I am telling you I am going to marry your daughter.
Please make no mistake. I do not care if you do or do not approve.
And though I would not care if you chose not to attend, I’m sure you realize Andrea would care.
All I care about is that you do not make this difficult for her. Should you choose to do so, I will be very…displeased.
Sincerely,
Miranda Priestly
Many thanks to gloriously tabu, tuathadedanaa, for the following Motivator: