Chapter 34: A Flawed Fragility
Author: TheLadyHoll
Pairing: Andy/Miranda
Rating: M
Disclaimer: Yes, they are mine. I own them. Come to me my pretties and dance, DANCE I SAY. Or, more truthfully, not...
Hello? It's me...I've been wondering if after all this time you'd like to read?Alright, ripping off Adele aside, I AM here & and have NOT abandoned the story. Far from it. In fact every day sees me open the word document and spend indecent amounts of time (considering my schedule) re-reading and staring. After two years of writing this, my OCD fueled compulsion for excellence is a significant limitation & life seems to have gotten in the way with further emotional/physical limitations that have taken up the majority of my time. (Officially diagnosed to have an immunodeficiency btw! Exciting)
HOWEVER, I am back and I THINK I've figured out the rhythm of the story for the next little bit and jointed together the many disparate pieces that have come together to make this chapter.
Your comments & reviews really are the reason I keep posting, hoping against hope that there ARE people reading this and I'm not simply deluding myself. So please, continue for the sake of this story! (And me, obviously...perhaps selfishly).
"Really, Andrea, I don't see why I must be forced to sit on the floor and practice breathing, something might I remind you I have managed to do without aid for the better part of a century, while strange granola crunching women and their baseball cap wearing, bar smelling husbands assault me with inappropriate questions and stories, believing I might be the least bit interested that 'little Johnny' required 26 hours and a vacuum to make his appearance?"
Andy couldn't hold back her snort of laughter at Miranda's vicious diatribe, earning her another glare from the irate woman beside her. "Oh, Miranda it won't be that bad. I promise…Dr. Avery said this was a private class with exclusive clientele - I highly doubt you'll be 'assaulted' by the odoriferous, granola eating masses."
"You remember, Andrea, I have been through this once before."
"Despite your current marital status, I can't believe Jeremy would have allowed you to be accosted either."
"Perhaps if he'd been there, he might not have." Miranda muttered under her breath, turning her head away from Andy in feigned interest at a nearby window display, attempting to end the conversation.
Andy stopped walking, and since she had linked arms with Miranda, the other woman stopped too - turning to look at Andy in surprise.
"What do you mean if he'd been there? I thought you had said you'd been to childbirth classes when you were pregnant with the girls?"
"Three classes. Two and a half to be precise. Jeremy accompanied me to the first class, spent half the time on his phone in the hallway, and conveniently came up with excuses every time after that. Halfway through the third class, having earned smug and pitying stares from the other couples there as I struggled in with my pillow alone for the second time, I got up and left and never went back."
"Jeremy was angry; saying that by not going meant that I didn't care about the girls. But I did care, Andrea, so much. That's why I didn't want to be anywhere NEAR people who would judge them for their family," Miranda choked out a harsh laugh, "And you can see how well that plan has worked."
"What I see that you have two beautiful healthy daughters at home, and two more beautiful, healthy babies in your belly. Besides, you're not alone this time, Miranda. And if I have anything to say about it, you'll never be alone again. In fact you will WISH for loneliness, you will dream of it, CRAVE it!" Andy flung her arms out exaggeratedly as she saved the conversation from getting too mushy for Miranda's tastes, smiling when she succeeded and Miranda's eyes softened back to a cornflower blue before rolling them at her exuberant younger partner.
Miranda's posture had grown stiffer and stiffer as they got closer to the studio where the class was supposed to take place, and her answers to Andrea's chatter shorter and increasingly terse. This didn't escape the younger woman's notice and she was hopeful that once Miranda saw there was nothing to worry about, she would be able to relax and take in the information that would help prepare them for the birth.
The room itself was light and airy, with light hardwood floors and an intimate semi-circle of chairs beside the window to the right of the fireplace that served as the central focal point of the room. Each chair was different, from an ornate Baroque specimen to a lavender velvet upholstered armchair - all coordinating effortlessly somehow with the aesthetic of the room and Andy breathed a small sigh of relief, at least the décor was acceptable, tastefully accented by the cream backdrop of the walls.
Gently urging Miranda forward with a hand at the small of her back, they took two of the last four remaining seats, Andy taking Miranda's hand in hers as she answered the questions from the couple beside them. Miranda smiled tightly as the pleasantries were exchanged and managed a nod and a slight unpursing of her lips. The silence that ensued could have turned awkward, however the tension was broken by the entrance of the instructor and the final two 'students' - a well-known tv actress expecting her first child at forty two and her husband. Luckily, this provided a distraction from the uncomfortable interaction and soon the instructor, a blonde woman in her mid-thirties dressed in designer yoga clothes who introduced herself as Trish before beginning to speak about the class.
"Hello everyone and thank you for being here today. This is the first of four sessions of our Baby Prep classes, which include pre-birth physical and mental exercises, ways to cope with the sensations of labour and postpartum care. Now we're a small group and several of our mommies in this particular sensation have lives and/or careers that put them in the spotlight and in the public eye. And so as a first rule, we have a strict no media policy, which means no videos or photos are to be taken without prior permission and adhering to strict guidelines of what and who can appear."
This drew a few enraged whispers from some of the younger mothers, among which Andy recognized one or two reality television stars and an up and coming singer. All, she assumed, wanted the exclusivity of joining this section of the class, but who hadn't thought about the extra rules accompanying their participation.
"What if some of us want to document this experience. I mean, we have followers on Twitter and Instagram who expect to see daily content and updates. If we don't deliver - "
"No pun intended?" Andy murmured under her breath, hoping to draw a smile from the tightly tensed woman beside her whose fists were twitching as she yearned to ball them into fists and feel the grounding effect of her nails biting into her palm.
Although indiscernible to anyone else but Andy, Miranda was very quickly losing the battle against the nerve-induced bitter acid and bile climbing up her chest and into her throat so that she could taste her own fear. She couldn't, she . do this. She absolutely intended for Andrea to be present for the birth, she couldn't imagine a scenario where she wouldn't want, no, need the younger woman at her side. And when she did go into labour, she knew Andrea would do everything in her power to make sure she was as comfortable as possible. She knew she would be able to fall back on the young, strong hands that had held her up so many times thus far in their relationship. But here, in front of all these people she wouldn't debase herself to panting and pantomiming when she knew what the real event would be like. It was a poor substitution if it was one at all and Miranda recoiled internally at the thought of so many people seeing Andrea touch her so intimately and to be put in all sorts of strange positions…
Seeing Miranda's bloodless grip and ashen face, Andy slid a hand to rest on Miranda's lower back and nudged her forward slightly as she herself stood.
"Oh!" Andy made a small noise of surprise as she grabbed her turned off phone from her back pocket as she stood, managing to look distraught as she looked between Miranda and the screen. "Mira, I'm so sorry. It's Greg; we're out 3 people this week and I'm still the newbie" Andrea explained to the group. A flash of understanding crossed Miranda's face and she artfully arranged her features to appear disappointed but understanding as she gracefully accepted.
"Of course, I'll have Roy drop you off on the way home."
Keeping her hand at the small of Miranda's back, Andy could feel the ripple of tension in her posture and noted the creases around her eyes and lips as she tightened her features.
Andy's internal monologue plagued her all the way down the elevator until they reached the familiar black vehicle. What on earth were you thinking, Sachs? Just because Miranda had attended one of these classes before didn't mean she would want to attend one now. That had been nearly a decade & two marriages ago, that Miranda didn't exist anymore. This one did, and it was this one that she loved and wanted to do everything in her power to protect. She cringed as she looked over at a silent Miranda, her features impassive which was never a good sign, as the elevator descended and let out into the front entryway.
Miranda carefully schooled her features as they made their excuses and left the meeting, but out in the hallway where it was only she and Andrea, she could feel the façade threaten to crumble. Again, she thought miserably, again she had failed at being a wife and a mother. What was it in her that made her unable to do something as simple as a childbirth preparation course? Occupied as she mentally berated herself, Miranda took no notice of the younger woman's growing distress as they made their way out of the building.
Once they were in the car, however, she inhaled shakily, attempting to keep her composure as she spoke unfamiliar words.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, looking down at her hands and not meeting Andy's eyes, her expression kept carefully blank.
"No, I'm sorry I forced you into doing something that made you so uncomfortable. The fact that you agreed to go at all means everything to me Miranda, even if it didn't work out. I could care less about that class; what I want is for you to be safe, and to bring these babies into the world safely. I don't want you to be in pain any more than you have to be and I thought those classes might help, but not if they're stressing you out. That's not doing you or the babies any good." Andy closed her eyes as slender fingers ghosted over her cheek and ran through her hair and she knew nothing more need be said.
Once they were home, Andrea actually did get a call from her editor and had to run in to the office, leaving Miranda in her office to catch up on some Runway work, although she did insist on having a small footrest beneath the desk so that Miranda could elevate her feet as well as making sure Miranda had water, the ginger tea she had been favouring during the pregnancy and a plate of assorted snacks.
"Promise me you'll call if you start not feeling good again, alright? And please, try and rest. You're working so hard and the trial's been just as hard on you. I can see you're a little swollen even from today…"
Already engrossed in the latest proofs and copies of the Book, Miranda nodded and hummed absentmindedly, not looking up from the pages.
However, after an hour or so, Miranda was forced to admit she was indeed feeling flushed and a dull pain had begun to throb behind her eyes.
Sighing, she conceded defeat and slowly raised her body from her seated position, making sure she didn't rise too quickly and suffer a dizzy spell. Her first had happened only a month after finding out about the pregnancy and Andrea's moving in to the townhouse. She had been in a meeting, going over the preliminary preparations for the next month's issue. The suggestions put forward had been terrible and Miranda had had little patience for the incompetence of her staff. Already, that morning she had suffered a severe bout of morning sickness and hadn't been able to keep down even the small sips of water Andrea had encouraged her to drink as they both sat on the bathroom floor for the better part of an hour. When Miranda had finally sat back, a hand pressed first to her aching ribcage and then her complaining abdominal muscles, Andrea had slipped her hand beneath hers, gently rubbing soft circles as Miranda caught her breath. But despite Andrea's pleading, hadn't been willing to put anything else past her lips.
She was paying for that decision now, she thought later that day, hoping her features didn't show the inward grimace in response to the waves of nausea that flared up intermittently during the planning session. After the meeting, she decided, she would go back to her office and perhaps lie down on the sofa and close her eyes just for a little while
But as the meeting ended, she stood from her seated position, eager for the soothing darkness and privacy of her office, when her stomach gave a particularly nasty flip and the room began to spin disconcertingly before fading into black.
Nigel saw the first sway of the still lithe, slender frame and was able to catch her as her legs gave way beneath her, moving quickly into her office, herded by Emily while Serena warded off any curious or voyeuristic clackers.
Andy had burst in frantically twenty minutes later, eyes scanning the room until they fell on the woman she loved in a semi prone position on the pale robin's egg couch looking pale but very much alive as she cradled a mug of tea in her hands and responded to something Nigel was saying about the upcoming issue.
Miranda's jacket was unbuttoned and had fallen open, revealing the ever so slight bulge that her free hand kept returning to unconsciously and which was the cause of so much fuss..
"Miranda," she had finally been able to croak out, feeling lightheaded herself as all the horrific scenarios she had been imagining flew out of her mind at the sight of the editor.
"Andrea! Darling, what are you doing - " Miranda cut herself off to glare at Nigel and Emily.
"I was here for your first pregnancy, darling - and although I suspected the same, I would never have forgiven myself if there had been something wrong and I hadn't notified Andrea immediately."
"Then why didn't you call for an ambulance?" And although the look she threw his way was menacing, Andy's gaze was soft as she knelt by the couch, needing the physical contact with Miranda to slow her furiously beating heart.
"Though admittedly the lion's share of it is dedicated in subservience to runway, I still derive some value from my life and would like to keep it if possible." Now both women shot glares at him and he laughed out loud, not only at the looks the two primary women in his life apart from Emily and his mother were shooting at him, but at the fact that the faces belonging to the two glowering women meant that everything was fine. He could only pray that it would stay that way.
"Are you sure I can't take you home?" Andy still knelt by the couch, her hand having replaced Miranda's over the small bump and rubbing gentle, absentminded circles as she attempted to wheedle and cajole Miranda into working from home for the rest of the day.
"I promise I'll stay in my office for the rest of the day, no meetings or run-throughs, but I simply can't leave. In any case, the rest of the staff will believe there IS something truly wrong with me and let it out to the press that Miranda Priestly had collapsed and been rushed away." Miranda's eyes crinkled fondly at the young woman biting her lip anxiously. Oh God how she needed to keep this girl, this woman, in her life."
"Besides, your two henchmen" at this Emily made a choked sort of spluttering noise of indignation at being called Andy's anything, "will ensure I don't attempt anything strenuous." Miranda peered over her glasses at the pair, "while still being able to carry out their duties to Runway."
The pair was out the door before you could say Dior and Andy rose to her feet to lock it behind them before sliding behind Miranda on the couch, feeling the soft white hair brush beneath her chin as Miranda let her body relax fully into the younger woman, wishing she had the time to fall asleep in her arms.
She could feel the heat of Andy's palm burn through the thin silk of her blouse and the warmth spreading through her veins, stemming from her slightly rounded belly cradled so securely in her lover's hands. As those hands began to move again in a gentle massage, Miranda covered them with her own to keep them there, letting her still aching head rest in the comfort of the graceful curve of the younger woman's neck just for a moment.
Coming back to the present, Miranda found that amidst her reminiscences her feet had taken her to the door to the as yet unfinished nursery. A fresh wave of emotion hit her as she pictured the room as it would be in a few months' time when she and Andrea, please God, would bring the babies home from the hospital. Her swollen feet reminding her of why she had stopping working on the Book, Miranda gently lowered herself into the wooden rocker, a sigh escaping her lips at the coolness of the wood against her flushed skin and the way it curved to support her compromised figure.
That was where Andy eventually found her. After coming home to no answer to her welcoming call, Andy had searched the rooms of the townhouse, her panic increasing as her imagination took over and she pictured multiple scenes and scenarios where Miranda was hurt or sick or in labour and hadn't been able to reach her. Coming out of their bedroom, Andy's ears registered a familiar noise from across the hall and she followed the noise until she came to the open door of what would be the nursery if she and Miranda could ever come to a mutual decision on it, one that Miranda was likely to win given Andy's weakened resistance when it came to the pregnant editor. Miranda was soundly asleep, sitting in the rocking chair in the nursery, her cheek resting partially against her shoulder and the curved headrest of the wooden chair.
"Hey babies, look at how beautiful your mommy is." Andy zoomed the camera in to focus on Miranda's face, peacefully at rest before panning down to where the older woman's hands rested on her belly. "And there you are, growing big and strong inside your mama. Baby A…" she panned down one side of the swell; "and Baby B…" she she focused on the topmost curve now. "We love you so much babies, and mommy and mama and your sisters are so excited to meet you." The camera panned back out, "I love you. The camera shut off, but Andy didn't move for another few minutes, content to watch the woman she loved at peace. "So much…"
Andy was sitting at the kitchen table a few days after the failed attempt at the Lamaze group when she heard the older woman on the stairs. At twenty-seven weeks pregnant, Miranda was still insisting she didn't require any assistance with her own stairs thank you very much. But as Miranda grew bigger and less steady on her feet, Andy knew she would have to step in. If she waited for Miranda to ask for help, the second set of twins would be in university.
Placing The Book on the table in the hallway Andy had once struggled to find, Andy took a moment to admire her lover from her seat at the table, taking an indecent amount of pleasure watching the bend and flex of the legs that only last night had been wrapped around her. A classic black jersey draped elegantly across her shoulders, the soft fabric clinging just enough to accent her new curves; Andy smirked as she mentally removed each article of couture, knowing what lay beneath. A rich, rusty orange shantung silk pencil skirt from Donna Karan and peep-toe kitten heels completed the look.
Pouring a fresh cup of decaf and adding scalded milk, Andy walked over to Miranda as she came into the kitchen. "Morning, beautiful." She leaned in further for a kiss, but Miranda barely noticed as she took the cup from Andy. Her face remained impassive, but Andy could discern a hint of confusion and uncertainty as her hold on Miranda turned from suggestive to supportive as she gently led Miranda to the table until she was sitting down.
"Miranda? What is it?" Andy refrained from asking if she had done something to upset the editor, knowing she had promised both herself and Miranda from constantly second guessing her actions or her worth when it came to their relationship.
"I feel strange." Miranda murmured, her gaze almost glassy as she sat, unusually still and unnaturally docile.
"It's not pain or even nausea specifically. I just…feel….strange, almost like my skin is buzzing. I'm exhausted but I'm restless as well."
"You're sure nothing's hurting?" Andy ran her hands over Miranda's arms as she looked her over worriedly, her hands coming back to rest one on Miranda's cheek and the other lightly on the curve of her belly.
Miranda nodded slowly as she took stock of her body, noting nothing unusual besides a dull ache in her back, which really wasn't all that unusual or surprising given the strain on it at the moment.
"I'll take it very easy today, darling. Lots of desk work and only one meeting. I may even come home early if the levels of office idiocy stay below catastrophic."
That was more like Miranda, Andy breathed easier and she agreed to the compromise, even if her own gut was uneasy about it. This floaty, almost dreamy, 'out of it' Miranda wasn't normal. In fact this Miranda would piss the real Miranda off to where she wouldn't put it past her to fire herself. Great, Andy thought, now SHE was the one sounding strange.
Allowing herself the indulgence of a half-caf latte in the hopes it would snap her out of whatever pregnancy brain-induced funk she was in, Miranda ignored the disapproving line of Emily's lips although the redhead said nothing as she handed Miranda the folders for the meeting and the woman had plucked the caffeinated treat out of the new girl's hand. Once Miranda had left the office, Emily swooped in on the junior assistant and the girl winced as Emily's bony fingers pinched her wrist and dragged her offside to the kitchen.
"The next time she asks, you bring her decaf. No exceptions - if she notices, she'll think it merely isn't working, and if she sends you out for another you do the same. And you stick to that story and tell her that it is what she ordered."
"But…but" the girl spluttered.
"Yes, butts. It's yours on the line if that happens again, and I shan't be saying don't let the door hit it on the way out because you will have one hell of an angry journalist to do it for you."
In the meeting room down the hall, Miranda nearly had to grip the table as she felt the warm liquid pulse through her veins, clearing her thoughts to where she could actually focus on the catastrophic suggestions being made for the beginning of the next quarter. She took another sip, her heart actually skipping a beat at the long withheld rush of caffeine. Finally, something the girl could seem to do better than Emily or the other junior assistant whatever-her-name-was.
She didn't sip at it delicately either. Finishing her drink within the first 20 minutes, Miranda could hear her heartbeat in her ears and the buzzing in her veins seemed to cancel out the strange vibrations she had felt this morning. Evidently, the effects of the caffeine were affecting the babies as well and her hand stole beneath the table to try and calm the hard kicks from the babies. At the same time she glanced at her watch restlessly, uncharacteristically distracted from the goings on of the meeting. Luckily it would only last for another ten minutes, she thought to herself. Then she could return to the privacy of her office and perhaps lie down for a few minutes and give the nauseating headache she could feel beginning to pound at her temples a chance to fade, perhaps a full re-introduction caffeine to her system was a mistake.
Self-conscious of the way she knew she looked getting up, Miranda stayed in her seat, coolly marking B-roll proofs as the Runway staff flurried off in every direction, racing to get done whatever it was was needed or fix what had been torn apart and eviscerated by Miranda in the meeting. When it was only Nigel left in the room, Miranda twisted lightly from side to side - grimacing as she realized the dull, pinching ache from that morning was still there. That pinching pain got worse as she made to get up from her chair, but she only made it halfway before she froze, hunched over the table, her breaths coming faster even as her head was down.
Miranda looked up in Nigel's direction, her face pale and her eyes going wide in horror as tiny gasps of air forced themselves from her lips. "I - I don't…I didn't"
This kind of dithering was not like Miranda at all, and concerned, Nigel moved closer - a horrified gasp of his own escaping as he saw Miranda. She was frozen in the process of standing up, a steady trickle of blood running down the inside of her thigh staining her shoes and the white carpet.
A/N: Thoughts?
Pairing: Andy/Miranda
Rating: M
Disclaimer: Yes, they are mine. I own them. Come to me my pretties and dance, DANCE I SAY. Or, more truthfully, not...
Hello? It's me...I've been wondering if after all this time you'd like to read?Alright, ripping off Adele aside, I AM here & and have NOT abandoned the story. Far from it. In fact every day sees me open the word document and spend indecent amounts of time (considering my schedule) re-reading and staring. After two years of writing this, my OCD fueled compulsion for excellence is a significant limitation & life seems to have gotten in the way with further emotional/physical limitations that have taken up the majority of my time. (Officially diagnosed to have an immunodeficiency btw! Exciting)
HOWEVER, I am back and I THINK I've figured out the rhythm of the story for the next little bit and jointed together the many disparate pieces that have come together to make this chapter.
Your comments & reviews really are the reason I keep posting, hoping against hope that there ARE people reading this and I'm not simply deluding myself. So please, continue for the sake of this story! (And me, obviously...perhaps selfishly).
"Really, Andrea, I don't see why I must be forced to sit on the floor and practice breathing, something might I remind you I have managed to do without aid for the better part of a century, while strange granola crunching women and their baseball cap wearing, bar smelling husbands assault me with inappropriate questions and stories, believing I might be the least bit interested that 'little Johnny' required 26 hours and a vacuum to make his appearance?"
Andy couldn't hold back her snort of laughter at Miranda's vicious diatribe, earning her another glare from the irate woman beside her. "Oh, Miranda it won't be that bad. I promise…Dr. Avery said this was a private class with exclusive clientele - I highly doubt you'll be 'assaulted' by the odoriferous, granola eating masses."
"You remember, Andrea, I have been through this once before."
"Despite your current marital status, I can't believe Jeremy would have allowed you to be accosted either."
"Perhaps if he'd been there, he might not have." Miranda muttered under her breath, turning her head away from Andy in feigned interest at a nearby window display, attempting to end the conversation.
Andy stopped walking, and since she had linked arms with Miranda, the other woman stopped too - turning to look at Andy in surprise.
"What do you mean if he'd been there? I thought you had said you'd been to childbirth classes when you were pregnant with the girls?"
"Three classes. Two and a half to be precise. Jeremy accompanied me to the first class, spent half the time on his phone in the hallway, and conveniently came up with excuses every time after that. Halfway through the third class, having earned smug and pitying stares from the other couples there as I struggled in with my pillow alone for the second time, I got up and left and never went back."
"Jeremy was angry; saying that by not going meant that I didn't care about the girls. But I did care, Andrea, so much. That's why I didn't want to be anywhere NEAR people who would judge them for their family," Miranda choked out a harsh laugh, "And you can see how well that plan has worked."
"What I see that you have two beautiful healthy daughters at home, and two more beautiful, healthy babies in your belly. Besides, you're not alone this time, Miranda. And if I have anything to say about it, you'll never be alone again. In fact you will WISH for loneliness, you will dream of it, CRAVE it!" Andy flung her arms out exaggeratedly as she saved the conversation from getting too mushy for Miranda's tastes, smiling when she succeeded and Miranda's eyes softened back to a cornflower blue before rolling them at her exuberant younger partner.
Miranda's posture had grown stiffer and stiffer as they got closer to the studio where the class was supposed to take place, and her answers to Andrea's chatter shorter and increasingly terse. This didn't escape the younger woman's notice and she was hopeful that once Miranda saw there was nothing to worry about, she would be able to relax and take in the information that would help prepare them for the birth.
The room itself was light and airy, with light hardwood floors and an intimate semi-circle of chairs beside the window to the right of the fireplace that served as the central focal point of the room. Each chair was different, from an ornate Baroque specimen to a lavender velvet upholstered armchair - all coordinating effortlessly somehow with the aesthetic of the room and Andy breathed a small sigh of relief, at least the décor was acceptable, tastefully accented by the cream backdrop of the walls.
Gently urging Miranda forward with a hand at the small of her back, they took two of the last four remaining seats, Andy taking Miranda's hand in hers as she answered the questions from the couple beside them. Miranda smiled tightly as the pleasantries were exchanged and managed a nod and a slight unpursing of her lips. The silence that ensued could have turned awkward, however the tension was broken by the entrance of the instructor and the final two 'students' - a well-known tv actress expecting her first child at forty two and her husband. Luckily, this provided a distraction from the uncomfortable interaction and soon the instructor, a blonde woman in her mid-thirties dressed in designer yoga clothes who introduced herself as Trish before beginning to speak about the class.
"Hello everyone and thank you for being here today. This is the first of four sessions of our Baby Prep classes, which include pre-birth physical and mental exercises, ways to cope with the sensations of labour and postpartum care. Now we're a small group and several of our mommies in this particular sensation have lives and/or careers that put them in the spotlight and in the public eye. And so as a first rule, we have a strict no media policy, which means no videos or photos are to be taken without prior permission and adhering to strict guidelines of what and who can appear."
This drew a few enraged whispers from some of the younger mothers, among which Andy recognized one or two reality television stars and an up and coming singer. All, she assumed, wanted the exclusivity of joining this section of the class, but who hadn't thought about the extra rules accompanying their participation.
"What if some of us want to document this experience. I mean, we have followers on Twitter and Instagram who expect to see daily content and updates. If we don't deliver - "
"No pun intended?" Andy murmured under her breath, hoping to draw a smile from the tightly tensed woman beside her whose fists were twitching as she yearned to ball them into fists and feel the grounding effect of her nails biting into her palm.
Although indiscernible to anyone else but Andy, Miranda was very quickly losing the battle against the nerve-induced bitter acid and bile climbing up her chest and into her throat so that she could taste her own fear. She couldn't, she . do this. She absolutely intended for Andrea to be present for the birth, she couldn't imagine a scenario where she wouldn't want, no, need the younger woman at her side. And when she did go into labour, she knew Andrea would do everything in her power to make sure she was as comfortable as possible. She knew she would be able to fall back on the young, strong hands that had held her up so many times thus far in their relationship. But here, in front of all these people she wouldn't debase herself to panting and pantomiming when she knew what the real event would be like. It was a poor substitution if it was one at all and Miranda recoiled internally at the thought of so many people seeing Andrea touch her so intimately and to be put in all sorts of strange positions…
Seeing Miranda's bloodless grip and ashen face, Andy slid a hand to rest on Miranda's lower back and nudged her forward slightly as she herself stood.
"Oh!" Andy made a small noise of surprise as she grabbed her turned off phone from her back pocket as she stood, managing to look distraught as she looked between Miranda and the screen. "Mira, I'm so sorry. It's Greg; we're out 3 people this week and I'm still the newbie" Andrea explained to the group. A flash of understanding crossed Miranda's face and she artfully arranged her features to appear disappointed but understanding as she gracefully accepted.
"Of course, I'll have Roy drop you off on the way home."
Keeping her hand at the small of Miranda's back, Andy could feel the ripple of tension in her posture and noted the creases around her eyes and lips as she tightened her features.
Andy's internal monologue plagued her all the way down the elevator until they reached the familiar black vehicle. What on earth were you thinking, Sachs? Just because Miranda had attended one of these classes before didn't mean she would want to attend one now. That had been nearly a decade & two marriages ago, that Miranda didn't exist anymore. This one did, and it was this one that she loved and wanted to do everything in her power to protect. She cringed as she looked over at a silent Miranda, her features impassive which was never a good sign, as the elevator descended and let out into the front entryway.
Miranda carefully schooled her features as they made their excuses and left the meeting, but out in the hallway where it was only she and Andrea, she could feel the façade threaten to crumble. Again, she thought miserably, again she had failed at being a wife and a mother. What was it in her that made her unable to do something as simple as a childbirth preparation course? Occupied as she mentally berated herself, Miranda took no notice of the younger woman's growing distress as they made their way out of the building.
Once they were in the car, however, she inhaled shakily, attempting to keep her composure as she spoke unfamiliar words.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, looking down at her hands and not meeting Andy's eyes, her expression kept carefully blank.
"No, I'm sorry I forced you into doing something that made you so uncomfortable. The fact that you agreed to go at all means everything to me Miranda, even if it didn't work out. I could care less about that class; what I want is for you to be safe, and to bring these babies into the world safely. I don't want you to be in pain any more than you have to be and I thought those classes might help, but not if they're stressing you out. That's not doing you or the babies any good." Andy closed her eyes as slender fingers ghosted over her cheek and ran through her hair and she knew nothing more need be said.
Once they were home, Andrea actually did get a call from her editor and had to run in to the office, leaving Miranda in her office to catch up on some Runway work, although she did insist on having a small footrest beneath the desk so that Miranda could elevate her feet as well as making sure Miranda had water, the ginger tea she had been favouring during the pregnancy and a plate of assorted snacks.
"Promise me you'll call if you start not feeling good again, alright? And please, try and rest. You're working so hard and the trial's been just as hard on you. I can see you're a little swollen even from today…"
Already engrossed in the latest proofs and copies of the Book, Miranda nodded and hummed absentmindedly, not looking up from the pages.
However, after an hour or so, Miranda was forced to admit she was indeed feeling flushed and a dull pain had begun to throb behind her eyes.
Sighing, she conceded defeat and slowly raised her body from her seated position, making sure she didn't rise too quickly and suffer a dizzy spell. Her first had happened only a month after finding out about the pregnancy and Andrea's moving in to the townhouse. She had been in a meeting, going over the preliminary preparations for the next month's issue. The suggestions put forward had been terrible and Miranda had had little patience for the incompetence of her staff. Already, that morning she had suffered a severe bout of morning sickness and hadn't been able to keep down even the small sips of water Andrea had encouraged her to drink as they both sat on the bathroom floor for the better part of an hour. When Miranda had finally sat back, a hand pressed first to her aching ribcage and then her complaining abdominal muscles, Andrea had slipped her hand beneath hers, gently rubbing soft circles as Miranda caught her breath. But despite Andrea's pleading, hadn't been willing to put anything else past her lips.
She was paying for that decision now, she thought later that day, hoping her features didn't show the inward grimace in response to the waves of nausea that flared up intermittently during the planning session. After the meeting, she decided, she would go back to her office and perhaps lie down on the sofa and close her eyes just for a little while
But as the meeting ended, she stood from her seated position, eager for the soothing darkness and privacy of her office, when her stomach gave a particularly nasty flip and the room began to spin disconcertingly before fading into black.
Nigel saw the first sway of the still lithe, slender frame and was able to catch her as her legs gave way beneath her, moving quickly into her office, herded by Emily while Serena warded off any curious or voyeuristic clackers.
Andy had burst in frantically twenty minutes later, eyes scanning the room until they fell on the woman she loved in a semi prone position on the pale robin's egg couch looking pale but very much alive as she cradled a mug of tea in her hands and responded to something Nigel was saying about the upcoming issue.
Miranda's jacket was unbuttoned and had fallen open, revealing the ever so slight bulge that her free hand kept returning to unconsciously and which was the cause of so much fuss..
"Miranda," she had finally been able to croak out, feeling lightheaded herself as all the horrific scenarios she had been imagining flew out of her mind at the sight of the editor.
"Andrea! Darling, what are you doing - " Miranda cut herself off to glare at Nigel and Emily.
"I was here for your first pregnancy, darling - and although I suspected the same, I would never have forgiven myself if there had been something wrong and I hadn't notified Andrea immediately."
"Then why didn't you call for an ambulance?" And although the look she threw his way was menacing, Andy's gaze was soft as she knelt by the couch, needing the physical contact with Miranda to slow her furiously beating heart.
"Though admittedly the lion's share of it is dedicated in subservience to runway, I still derive some value from my life and would like to keep it if possible." Now both women shot glares at him and he laughed out loud, not only at the looks the two primary women in his life apart from Emily and his mother were shooting at him, but at the fact that the faces belonging to the two glowering women meant that everything was fine. He could only pray that it would stay that way.
"Are you sure I can't take you home?" Andy still knelt by the couch, her hand having replaced Miranda's over the small bump and rubbing gentle, absentminded circles as she attempted to wheedle and cajole Miranda into working from home for the rest of the day.
"I promise I'll stay in my office for the rest of the day, no meetings or run-throughs, but I simply can't leave. In any case, the rest of the staff will believe there IS something truly wrong with me and let it out to the press that Miranda Priestly had collapsed and been rushed away." Miranda's eyes crinkled fondly at the young woman biting her lip anxiously. Oh God how she needed to keep this girl, this woman, in her life."
"Besides, your two henchmen" at this Emily made a choked sort of spluttering noise of indignation at being called Andy's anything, "will ensure I don't attempt anything strenuous." Miranda peered over her glasses at the pair, "while still being able to carry out their duties to Runway."
The pair was out the door before you could say Dior and Andy rose to her feet to lock it behind them before sliding behind Miranda on the couch, feeling the soft white hair brush beneath her chin as Miranda let her body relax fully into the younger woman, wishing she had the time to fall asleep in her arms.
She could feel the heat of Andy's palm burn through the thin silk of her blouse and the warmth spreading through her veins, stemming from her slightly rounded belly cradled so securely in her lover's hands. As those hands began to move again in a gentle massage, Miranda covered them with her own to keep them there, letting her still aching head rest in the comfort of the graceful curve of the younger woman's neck just for a moment.
Coming back to the present, Miranda found that amidst her reminiscences her feet had taken her to the door to the as yet unfinished nursery. A fresh wave of emotion hit her as she pictured the room as it would be in a few months' time when she and Andrea, please God, would bring the babies home from the hospital. Her swollen feet reminding her of why she had stopping working on the Book, Miranda gently lowered herself into the wooden rocker, a sigh escaping her lips at the coolness of the wood against her flushed skin and the way it curved to support her compromised figure.
That was where Andy eventually found her. After coming home to no answer to her welcoming call, Andy had searched the rooms of the townhouse, her panic increasing as her imagination took over and she pictured multiple scenes and scenarios where Miranda was hurt or sick or in labour and hadn't been able to reach her. Coming out of their bedroom, Andy's ears registered a familiar noise from across the hall and she followed the noise until she came to the open door of what would be the nursery if she and Miranda could ever come to a mutual decision on it, one that Miranda was likely to win given Andy's weakened resistance when it came to the pregnant editor. Miranda was soundly asleep, sitting in the rocking chair in the nursery, her cheek resting partially against her shoulder and the curved headrest of the wooden chair.
"Hey babies, look at how beautiful your mommy is." Andy zoomed the camera in to focus on Miranda's face, peacefully at rest before panning down to where the older woman's hands rested on her belly. "And there you are, growing big and strong inside your mama. Baby A…" she panned down one side of the swell; "and Baby B…" she she focused on the topmost curve now. "We love you so much babies, and mommy and mama and your sisters are so excited to meet you." The camera panned back out, "I love you. The camera shut off, but Andy didn't move for another few minutes, content to watch the woman she loved at peace. "So much…"
Andy was sitting at the kitchen table a few days after the failed attempt at the Lamaze group when she heard the older woman on the stairs. At twenty-seven weeks pregnant, Miranda was still insisting she didn't require any assistance with her own stairs thank you very much. But as Miranda grew bigger and less steady on her feet, Andy knew she would have to step in. If she waited for Miranda to ask for help, the second set of twins would be in university.
Placing The Book on the table in the hallway Andy had once struggled to find, Andy took a moment to admire her lover from her seat at the table, taking an indecent amount of pleasure watching the bend and flex of the legs that only last night had been wrapped around her. A classic black jersey draped elegantly across her shoulders, the soft fabric clinging just enough to accent her new curves; Andy smirked as she mentally removed each article of couture, knowing what lay beneath. A rich, rusty orange shantung silk pencil skirt from Donna Karan and peep-toe kitten heels completed the look.
Pouring a fresh cup of decaf and adding scalded milk, Andy walked over to Miranda as she came into the kitchen. "Morning, beautiful." She leaned in further for a kiss, but Miranda barely noticed as she took the cup from Andy. Her face remained impassive, but Andy could discern a hint of confusion and uncertainty as her hold on Miranda turned from suggestive to supportive as she gently led Miranda to the table until she was sitting down.
"Miranda? What is it?" Andy refrained from asking if she had done something to upset the editor, knowing she had promised both herself and Miranda from constantly second guessing her actions or her worth when it came to their relationship.
"I feel strange." Miranda murmured, her gaze almost glassy as she sat, unusually still and unnaturally docile.
"It's not pain or even nausea specifically. I just…feel….strange, almost like my skin is buzzing. I'm exhausted but I'm restless as well."
"You're sure nothing's hurting?" Andy ran her hands over Miranda's arms as she looked her over worriedly, her hands coming back to rest one on Miranda's cheek and the other lightly on the curve of her belly.
Miranda nodded slowly as she took stock of her body, noting nothing unusual besides a dull ache in her back, which really wasn't all that unusual or surprising given the strain on it at the moment.
"I'll take it very easy today, darling. Lots of desk work and only one meeting. I may even come home early if the levels of office idiocy stay below catastrophic."
That was more like Miranda, Andy breathed easier and she agreed to the compromise, even if her own gut was uneasy about it. This floaty, almost dreamy, 'out of it' Miranda wasn't normal. In fact this Miranda would piss the real Miranda off to where she wouldn't put it past her to fire herself. Great, Andy thought, now SHE was the one sounding strange.
Allowing herself the indulgence of a half-caf latte in the hopes it would snap her out of whatever pregnancy brain-induced funk she was in, Miranda ignored the disapproving line of Emily's lips although the redhead said nothing as she handed Miranda the folders for the meeting and the woman had plucked the caffeinated treat out of the new girl's hand. Once Miranda had left the office, Emily swooped in on the junior assistant and the girl winced as Emily's bony fingers pinched her wrist and dragged her offside to the kitchen.
"The next time she asks, you bring her decaf. No exceptions - if she notices, she'll think it merely isn't working, and if she sends you out for another you do the same. And you stick to that story and tell her that it is what she ordered."
"But…but" the girl spluttered.
"Yes, butts. It's yours on the line if that happens again, and I shan't be saying don't let the door hit it on the way out because you will have one hell of an angry journalist to do it for you."
In the meeting room down the hall, Miranda nearly had to grip the table as she felt the warm liquid pulse through her veins, clearing her thoughts to where she could actually focus on the catastrophic suggestions being made for the beginning of the next quarter. She took another sip, her heart actually skipping a beat at the long withheld rush of caffeine. Finally, something the girl could seem to do better than Emily or the other junior assistant whatever-her-name-was.
She didn't sip at it delicately either. Finishing her drink within the first 20 minutes, Miranda could hear her heartbeat in her ears and the buzzing in her veins seemed to cancel out the strange vibrations she had felt this morning. Evidently, the effects of the caffeine were affecting the babies as well and her hand stole beneath the table to try and calm the hard kicks from the babies. At the same time she glanced at her watch restlessly, uncharacteristically distracted from the goings on of the meeting. Luckily it would only last for another ten minutes, she thought to herself. Then she could return to the privacy of her office and perhaps lie down for a few minutes and give the nauseating headache she could feel beginning to pound at her temples a chance to fade, perhaps a full re-introduction caffeine to her system was a mistake.
Self-conscious of the way she knew she looked getting up, Miranda stayed in her seat, coolly marking B-roll proofs as the Runway staff flurried off in every direction, racing to get done whatever it was was needed or fix what had been torn apart and eviscerated by Miranda in the meeting. When it was only Nigel left in the room, Miranda twisted lightly from side to side - grimacing as she realized the dull, pinching ache from that morning was still there. That pinching pain got worse as she made to get up from her chair, but she only made it halfway before she froze, hunched over the table, her breaths coming faster even as her head was down.
Miranda looked up in Nigel's direction, her face pale and her eyes going wide in horror as tiny gasps of air forced themselves from her lips. "I - I don't…I didn't"
This kind of dithering was not like Miranda at all, and concerned, Nigel moved closer - a horrified gasp of his own escaping as he saw Miranda. She was frozen in the process of standing up, a steady trickle of blood running down the inside of her thigh staining her shoes and the white carpet.
A/N: Thoughts?