Chapter 39: 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...
The rumours are TRUE. She IS in fact ALIVE! And shamefacedly she edges her way back out of the shadows with this offering in the hopes of appeasing her audience. Hopefully 5K+ words is a good start on the road to forgiveness? My muse has taken on the identity of a will o' the wisp it would seem & I've just managed to pin her down for a moment. Please, do what you can to make her stay for the sake of my OWN sanity...xo
The combination of blood pressure medication Dr. Jansen had prescribed and the exhaustion and stress from coming home in the midst of a press mob had drained the editor of the little strength she had managed to regain in healing from the surgery and both women found that the first three days of mandated bedrest were exactly that, with no arguments from the editor who spent much of that time actually sleeping - much to the amazement of her fiancée who had been prepared for a series of lengthy battles over what did and did not count as an act of physical exertion. But both women had adjusted to their insular little world, with Caroline and Cassidy providing welcome distraction and comic relief as they basked in the undivided attention from both women. The only sore points came when their 'bubble' was intruded upon by the homecare nurse who was tasked with taking the required readings of Miranda's blood pressure and heart rate along with the requisite vial of blood and the occasional urine sample to test for proteins that would indicate another pre-eclamptic episode. Unfortunately, this generally meant that Miranda's blood pressure was slightly elevated over what it should have been for each of the tests as she iced out the poor soul who had been sent to enter the lair of the dragon.
The date of Andy's departure to Tehran loomed ever closer on the horizon, and Miranda's mood seemed to darken with it despite the fact that she had been the one to insist the young woman go in the first place.
Two days before the end of total bed rest and eight days before Andy was scheduled to leave, Miranda set aside her nearly untouched dinner and huffed despondently at the luggage Andy had hauled up from the basement that afternoon and was sitting at the door of the closet, waiting to be packed.
"Twelve days."
Andy looked up from her laptop to see the older woman brooding silently as she stared down the weathered pieces of luggage Andy had insisted were entirely suitable for her trip, refusing to consider the 7 piece Louis Vuitton set she had seen Emily struggle in with the third day of Miranda's bedrest and was currently residing in the hall closet.
"Twelve days and then I'm right back here with you. You're going to be so busy making sure Nigel and Emily are running the magazine properly that after the first few days you're hardly going to notice I'm gone, and then you'll be starting back at the office and I KNOW you'll be too busy to miss me."
"Nonsense, I'll still notice your absence Andrea…the pillows aren't nearly as conducive to a good night's rest."
"Sweet talker…" Andy shook her head wryly and flopped down on her stomach on top of the comforter so that she was practically lying on Miranda's lap.
"Okay guys, ground rules while I'm gone…First of all, you stay put. We've got eight more weeks until you're eligible for parole so I don't want to hear about any plans you may have otherwise. You are hereby grounded until 36 weeks and no giving mommy a hard time about it."
Miranda smirked and let her fingers trail through silky brunette strands as the chestnut head bent and pressed kisses and whispers to the silken warmth of her skin, "laying down the law?"
"Mmm, we'll see who's the pushover once they're born," Andy parried back, knowing that as strict as Miranda liked to think she was, there was still very little to which she wouldn't acquiesce if asked by Caroline and Cassidy, who although truly were sweet and affectionate girls, had undoubtedly been spoiled and given everything they wanted from the time they had been old enough to ask for it.
"I think it's safe to say that we'll soon find they have us wrapped around their fingers," Miranda's free hand absently cupped her abdomen as she spoke, wishing as ever, for the moment she could actually hold her babies in her arms and count those fingers.
"Miranda, they had us wrapped around their fingers before they even HAD fingers."
The first true laugh Andy had heard since she had been in hospital rang out from Miranda's lips and the knot in Andy's stomach that tightened every time she thought about leaving eased somewhat.
A familiar glint was forming in Miranda's eyes now and Andy recognized it as a dangerous one and she hung her head dramatically and rolled onto her back, flopping her head over to raise an eyebrow at Miranda as the older woman blinked innocently at her in direct contrast to the crocodile grin spreading across her lips.
"Alright, what is it?"
"I don't know what you mean," Miranda sniffed, "I was simply thinking it might be nice to have a family movie night tonight before the work week begins."
"Uh-huh," Andy's expression remained bemusedly skeptical. "And are we properly supplied for such an occasion, or am I to be sent out on a Sunday evening in rush hour traffic?"
Ten minutes later found Andy grabbing the keys to Miranda's little silver Mercedes and heading out the door only to return an hour later from the corner convenience store laden with the 'supplies' Miranda had deemed requisite for such a family venture.
"Andy, is that you?" heavy footfalls clattered down the stairs, the sound preceding the two redheaded whirlwinds who immediately pounced on the bag.
"Now I see where I rate," Andy teased, lightly checking Caroline with her hip as she and her sister examined the spoils. "I suppose it's simply my lucky lot in life to cater to the whims of the Priestly women…"
The girls turned to Andy open-mouthed and wide-eyed and the brunette chuckled at the dramatics as they stared down at a bag of chips. "What? You guys know the babies have been making your mom crave some crazy things. Doritos are probably the least weird thing she's asked for." Andy's nose wrinkled as a thought came to her, "unless there's some sort of dip involved that I'm not aware of."
"No. Andy you don't get it. She HATES Doritos. We're not even allowed to have them inside the house."
"What? Why?"
"According to mom, "in addition to being hideously unhealthy, they are also abhorrently messy and she won't have them near any fabric or clothes"."
"Yeah," Cassidy chimed in, "I think I remember something about a vintage Dior gown that got ruined during a photo shoot because someone hadn't washed their hands after eating Doritos for lunch and they got oily fingerprints and orange powder all over the raw silk."
Andy cringed at the description, yeah that would certainly do it for Miranda - although she didn't know who at Runway would rather be caught dead than eating the processed, oily corn chips.
But the way Miranda's eyes lit up when she saw the reflective glint of the aluminum foil left no doubt in Andy's mind as to the legitimacy of the craving, and she watched with no small amount of amusement as the editor hummed and chewed contentedly through the entire bag, her expression coming somewhere close to devastated when she realized her admittedly orange stained fingers hit the bottom and no more crumbs could be enticed from the corners.
So adorable was the forlorn expression on her face that Andy swooped in to steal a kiss from the powdered lips. "Mmm, you taste like cheese," Andy leaned in for a second kiss even as Miranda blushed and turned her head away. Miranda was even more discomfited when she had to accept the younger woman's help in rolling out of the bed so that she didn't touch the sheets before she had the chance to wash the gunk off of her fingers and brush her teeth.
Although she wasn't about to admit it, the indulgent snack had left Miranda feeling sluggish and a little queasy as she settled in for the second half of the movie. She suppressed a belch and grimaced as she felt the burn of stomach acid coat the back of her throat, mixing awfully with the taste of the mouthwash she had just used. She hiccupped once and rubbed the middle of her chest with the heel of her hand, willing the uncomfortable sensation away as she moved deeper into the embrace of the other woman, knowing the brunette's hands would quickly find their place and hoping the familiar comfort would settle her stomach.
Not wanting to move and disturb Miranda, Andy lifted her chin from where it had been resting against Miranda's crown. "Cass, honey, could you go down to the kitchen and bring back a glass of milk? And calling out as an afterthought as the little girl ran out, "careful on the stairs!"
Cassidy soon returned, handing over the glass and turning her attentions back to the movie alongside her sister laid out along the foot of the bed, ignoring the argument behind them.
"Andrea, I really don't want anything to drink. It will pass soon, I'm sure."
"Land sakes, woman, is there anything you're not going to argue with me about?"
Another soft belch and a wince from Miranda prompted the brunette to roll her eyes and huff in frustration as she tried again to hold out the beverage for Miranda to take.
"I detest milk."
"And I detest sitting here, watching you go through discomfort you don't have to." Andy shot back, winning the argument as she tempered the loss with the tender treatment she lavished on Miranda as the older woman grudgingly emptied the glass.
Ten minutes later, Miranda was forced to admit to herself that the disgusting beverage seemed to have done the trick and the roiling pit of acid that had been her stomach had calmed considerably, the last uncomfortable twinges soothed away by Andy's fingers. Watching her family as they all had their focus on the film, Miranda wondered again at her luck and the sheer improbability of ever having this kind of peace and contentment within a relationship. Resting her head once more against the younger woman's chest, Miranda closed her eyes as she felt the brush of soft lips at her temple. How on earth could this woman manage to love the 'Ice Queen'? It still amazed her how natural it felt to be held like this and not desperately want to escape what would normally feel like a cloying embrace. With Stephen and even with Jeremy, there had always been a wariness in the back of her mind and an acute awareness of how she looked or acted and ensuring it fit within the persona she had created for herself. Never would she have felt so comfortable submitting or participating in such open displays of affection. The only kissing and cuddling outside of sex was reserved entirely for her girls. Her gaze moved to the foot of the bed and the two tawny heads bent close together over the bowl of popcorn and quickly growing gangly legs tangled underneath a blanket pulled from Caroline's bed.
Part of her couldn't imagine doing it all over again. Two infants, two newborns, God she might really be too old for this. But stronger than any of her fears or reservations about becoming a 'new' mother again at 50 were her fears that she wouldn't. That all the naysayers and skeptics were right and she would never get the chance to raise these two new little lives. That she would fail and Andrea would blame her and leave and her girls would decide to live with their father rather than face living with the empty bitter shell she would surely become if all that were come to pass. No, she exhaled slowly, focusing on slowing her pulse and calming her heartbeat as she concentrated on the gentle wiggles and squirms of the babies as they pressed against Andrea's palms in a gentle game of tag or hide and seek.
"If you're going to rile them up, you had better be the one who's going to get them back to sleep," Miranda murmured wryly, prompting a laugh from the younger woman. "Mmm, just like mommy I think they'll tire out pretty quickly," Andy teased.
"Hmph, can you promise that while I'm here alone for the next week when you're back at work and I'm still barred from the office?"
"Weeell, you can start planning out the nursery." Andy stifled a grin as she saw Miranda's interest was piqued - not that the older woman would ever give any indication that she agreed with the proposed solution.
Miranda quirked up an eyebrow interestedly, musing inwardly to herself. That did sound as though it could occupy a good deal of her time, and she could always have Emily run over fabric swatches or paint samples and in doing so obtain information about the goings on at Runway, given that Andy had threatened them to silence within an inch of their lives, and loyal minions that they were, Miranda knew they would be true to their word for both her and Andrea's sakes.
"Fine, at least that will be something," Miranda huffed, already pulling together colour schemes in her head for a gender-neutral nursery.
Once the initial plans had been drawn up and the fabric samples chosen and ordered, it was to be a test of both women's patience as they dealt with a bored, ill-tempered Miranda over the next week of bed rest. With Andy back at work, the girls at school and their extra-curricular activities, and now not even the home care nurse to break up the monotony of the day, the result was an irritable, peevish editor in chief who seemed to find more fault in the small amount of her employee's work than when she was in full command of the Runway offices. With her focus so totally zeroed in given the miniscule amount of 'editing' she was allowed to do, nothing was good enough, so pedantic was her scrutiny of the pages and editorial content.
"Are you resting?" Andy's voice echoed accusingly through the speaker of the phone one afternoon during one of Miranda's daily requisite two calls, and she heard the telltale shuffle of papers being pushed to one side and she shook her head ruefully, raising her eyes to the ceiling in weary bemusement.
"I was attempting to," La Priestly made a re-appearance over the phone line, "however the whims and fancies of our children prevented any kind of restorative nature 'resting' would have provided.
Privately, Andy thought to herself that was possibly the most evasive way possible of stating that you were craving something that wasn't readily available. Only Miranda…
"Well whatever it is that you want, call Cara or Maria to get it for you, please." She heard Miranda's scoff through the phone and her voice became firmer. "Miranda, you are on BED-rest. Not foot-rest, or sitting on your butt-rest. Right now you aren't going anywhere." She still wasn't sure Miranda was convinced and so she pulled another trick out of her arsenal. "Look down."
Miranda scowled at the phone but her gaze softened as she lowered her gaze.
"Think of it as making sure they get their rest. You wouldn't make Cass & Caro get out of bed and go to school and piano lessons if they were sick. So if you won't do it for yourself, which makes me so sad to think that you don't see yourself like I do, do it for our tiny, sweet terrors that already keep us up at night."
There was a long silence and then a question that wavered slightly at the end, making Andy's heart skip as she knew it meant Miranda was close to tears, even if they were brought on by hormones. "What time will you be home tonight?"
"Soon as I can," Andy answered, partly wishing she could pack up now. "But that will probably be around 6 or 7."
"The terrors and I will wait for you then, both sets."
"Now do you promise to get Cara or Maria to get whatever it is you refuse to tell me you're craving?"
Andy could all but hear the sigh and accompanying eye roll on the other end of the line and she smiled ruefully, seeing that her plan to distract a tearful, hormonal Miranda had worked.
"Yes. Now go work so you can come home."
"I will. I love you."
"And I you, darling," the warmth returned to Miranda's voice before the line cut off, leaving Andy shaking her head and smiling, thinking that some things would never change.
What Andy did have a hard time getting Miranda to consider was the promised photo shoot that would feature the pregnant editor and to which she was sorely regretting agreeing to as the date for the shoot grew closer and final decisions needed to be made.
"Come on, Mira," Andy whined, "No one is going to see most of these except for family - and I for one want to remember how beautiful you looked while you were carrying our son and daughter."
"There will be nothing 'bared', no vulgar swathes of fabric and large expanses of skin and so help you if you think alphabet letter blocks or a pair of infant's shoes is going anywhere near my stomach."
"Oh come on, not even mini Louboutins or Choos?" Andy teased, reaching out for the bump in question over which the pregnant woman had crossed her arms and was now glaring at her tartly.
"Have you ever considered what you would do if I were to cut off your access to my abdomen?" Miranda asked, a smirk playing across her lips at the brunette's scandalised expression and successive tightening of her hold around Miranda's waist, pressing her cheek flush against the swell.
"Die," she exhaled dramatically, turning to bury her face into the body part in question as she stretched out on the couch.
"And when I no longer resemble a water retaining sausage?"
"Is that happening anytime soon?" Andy teased, eyes sparking mischievously as she laughed, playfully ducking as a hand reached out to swat at the dark head.
"Then there are going to be two tiny babies to hold, in addition to my gorgeous wife and beautiful daughters."
"Tiny may be an all too apt descriptor." Miranda looked down at her lap. What seemed so large and cumbersome a burden on her frame was really housing two very small, fragile infants that if delivered overly prematurely, stood very little chance of thriving once outside of the womb. Every day and every inch her body was able to grow gave the babies their best chance of survival and she pondered her expanded waistline and the all too precious contents that seemed so inconsequentially sheltered by the meagre protection her body was able to offer despite her best efforts.
"Stop it." Andy's voice was still muffled as she had her face pressed to Miranda's stomach.
"Stop what?" Miranda was perplexed as she hadn't said anything past her initial comment.
"Thinking," Andy replied, flipping her hair back and tilting her head back to meet Miranda's gaze. "I can hear you."
Warmth suffused Miranda as she once again reveled in the depth of the brunette's apparent love for her and she returned the emotion in her own way, replying somewhat acerbically "Some of us find that easier to do than others."
"Ouch!
The pictures they were having done would be for both personal and professional use. With great reluctance, Miranda had agreed to Leslie's publicity ploy and would appear in a Runway exclusive editorial containing an interview with her and Andrea about their engagement and the coming additions.
"Don't forget, Eduardo is coming at 10 on Monday to prep for the office shots - I think they mostly want you at your desk at a profile. Also, it looks like the notes say they want you in a wrap dress, killer shoes because you won't be standing or walking in them, no jacket because it will cover the bump and deep jewel tones for one set of B roll as a contrast to the black and white of your office."
"Now they're presuming to tell me what to wear? Do they know who they are dealing with?"
"Miranda, you know Nigel is behind all of it, and you also know he would never make you look bad. All I've been educated on is the thought process behind having you in the draped white jersey and me in that black, sculptural, angular Zac Posen bustier meets suit jacket meets origami piece that Emily was drooling over last week."
"And that is?"
"Simple juxtaposition. Black, white, bride, groom, dark, light, soft, hard and the dichotomy of those facets of personalities coming together and 'culminating' in a new family and dynamic.
Miranda had thought as much herself, but she was pleased to see Andrea really had learned the power of communication through choices in fashion and style. She was also equally pleased that she would see the younger woman in the outfit that had been chosen for her. The cut would be another striking contrast against the brunette's curves and the result, even in theory, made Miranda weak in the knees.
She wouldn't have minded seeing Andrea in all white however, simply to entice her imagination as to what the young woman would look like on their wedding day. She already had a picture in her mind of Andrea as the perfect blushing bride - as she would be no matter what she wore, but she supposed her hormones and the romantic side Andrea seemed to bring out in her reared their head and she was swept away in a fantasy of fabrications of chiffons and charmeuses, satins and silks…
From a stylistic or creative standpoint though, it made greater editorial sense to show the perceived 'dominant' personality in a less harsh light, highlighting the bloom of femininity that was inherently apparent in her expectant state. It also evened the scales for those who would seek to decry Andrea's role in the relationship as the weaker half. The power suit and the decidedly 'adult' edge to her outfit and makeup would, if executed correctly, serve as the perfect foil for the softened portrayal of the editor as well as underscoring the position Andrea had adopted, at least in the press's viewpoint, as Miranda's protector, both in the trial and in the public eye. Only those closest to the couple knew how deeply that sentiment ran and how fiercely guarded Andy was over anything having to do with Miranda. Certainly enough to give anyone pause in their consideration of who was top and who was bottom on the most regular basis.
Yep. Nigel was good. He was also the only one who could ever get away with it, Andy thought to herself. She knew what clothing she preferred Miranda in - apart from the obvious 'none' that wickedly came to mind - but she would never attempt to tell Miranda what to wear. Nope, nuh-uh, no way Jose…
With Miranda more than eager to return to Runway and resume her editorial duties, the tensions in the household switched and it was now the brunette's turn to brood suddenly when she wasn't running around with last minute preparations for her trip, or the twins or a still housebound Miranda.
The night before Andy was scheduled to fly out and Miranda had been medically cleared to go back to work by Dr. Jansen after a final home visit by the doctor earlier that day, Andy fixed the editor with a long, serious stare - making sure the older woman was giving her her complete attention as she looked over top of her reading glasses at the solemn expression on the younger woman's face.
"Promise me, Miranda - and don't say anything if you can't, but I need to know that you're not going to push yourself too hard when you go back to work." Brown eyes bored almost painfully into blue as they turned liquid with tears the brunette was determined not to let fall as she tried to impart the seriousness of her message to Miranda.
"I came so close," her voice was choked and harsh as she fixed her gaze on the woman in front of her. "I was so close to losing you - to losing everything. You keep saying I need to be careful while I'm over there? That couldn't be farther from the truth, there is nothing that matters for me over there. There is nothing of me to worry about. All that I care about and all that I am is right here in New York, right here in this townhouse in the two bedrooms across the hall and in this bed right here." Andy drew herself up onto her knees and leaned forward to press her lips to Miranda's, wanting desperately to convey the depth of her emotion without making Miranda feel like she was giving ultimatums.
Sitting back on her heels, she traced the now swollen lips with her thumb and continued. "I'm leaving my heart here, please, please take care of it. The thought of leaving you is so much scarier than the thought of flying into a warzone." Andy shook her head and snorted, "How messed up is that, or how's that for an example of writer's use of hyperbole? But it's true." Andy shrugged as Miranda gathered the younger woman's hands in her own and brought them together to her chest as she ducked her own head to meet the younger woman's distracted gaze.
"Andrea, no matter what happens. With me, or the babies, or the trial or anything else, you must know that I am deeply aware of the gift you have given me in loving me as I don't believe anyone ever has besides my girls, and of course that's a different kind of love. I don't take that gift lightly, and I promise I will do everything in my power to see that I don't ruin that trust. Your heart, as you say it is, will be right here waiting for you - and even though you say it is staying in New York, know that mine won't be whole or satisfied and won't rest easy until you return."
Andy slid down alongside Miranda as the older woman abandoned the notes she was making on the last few pages of the Book, putting it to the side as she reached for the light on the bedside table. Her nightshirt rose up as she did so and Andy's hand moved over to raise it a few inches further, pressing her fingers then her lips to where the healing incision was etched into the pale skin, the straight edged horizontal cut bisecting the softened reddish lines that had begun to stripe the gravid swell. At first Miranda had been horrified, and then incensed at nobody other than herself for being so foolish as to think she wouldn't get stretch marks carrying twins for a second time at 50 years old. It had been so long, ten years she thought with a strange melancholy, since her last pregnancy with the girls that the marks she bore as a result of their birth had all but faded to silvery lines and shadows. Now the old silver and the new pink mixed together in a combination Miranda had called horrid and Andy had proclaimed beautiful when she had caught the older woman trying to change in the bathroom. She had soon put a stop to that, telling Miranda flat out that she was being ridiculous and then running a single hand down the length of Miranda's body that managed to imbue all the tenderness her words lacked, leaving Miranda once more incredulous at the immense gift she had been given in the younger woman who looked at her with a desire and a hunger that rivalled the admiring and even lustful gazes typically reserved for the likes of those select few chosen to grace the pages of Runway.
"Andrea?"
"Yes?"
"Would you mind not thinking quite so loudly? I'm quite sure it's affecting my ability to concentrate on my work." The icy tones of 'La Priestly' were belied by the softened expression in the blues that came to rest on stormy brown. Andy snorted wryly and let her head fall forward with a groan. Suddenly, her head popped back up, the worried, murky brown replaced by a familiar wicked gleam that sparked the older woman's stifled libido as a long, lithe body slid itself against her as its owner moved up the bed, fingertips trailing lazy paths over the valley, curves and bumps beneath them that belonged to the editor.
"Are you suure I can't convince you to start your maternity leave early?" Andy purred, her voice at its most smoky and seductive. But in spite of the sudden flush & flood of heat distracting her, Miranda managed to fix the younger woman with a firm look.
"No."
"Damn." Andy flopped back, all traces of smoke gone from her voice Miranda noted with some disappointment. "Should've known not even pent-up pregnancy hormones in overdrive wouldn't work."
"Andrea, I think we can both agree that my mental health would be compromised if I were made to 'rest' and be idle for the next three months. Miranda felt a familiar lick of fear as the words passed her lips, the argument they were leading up to all too familiar and all too unwelcome when it came to Andrea.
Lost in the beginning throes of a panic attack, Miranda startled when she felt the cool press of lips against her overheated skin and she looked down at her arm where the journalist now rested her chin.
"I know, I know you have to work. It's part of you and I don't want to change any part of that."
The tightness in Miranda's chest eased and she waited patiently for the brunette to find her next words she was so clearly searching for.
"I'm not asking for me. It's not for me or because I'm jealous or feel second-place. It's for you, for your sake, to keep you here and whole with me. You can tell me your heart belongs to me Miranda, or that it beats for me, but even you can't make it do so if nature decides otherwise…"
"If nature decides otherwise, then there's nothing we can do," Miranda murmured softly as she reached out to stroke the younger woman's cheek.
"Hmph." Andy blew out her bangs and burrowed in more forcefully into the older woman's lap, jostling her arm slightly and causing the pen to mark the page she was editing. But Miranda found she couldn't quite bring herself to care, and she paused as that led to further expostulation on just how different it was with this relationship, with her Andrea.
In case you've forgotten due to the LOOOONG nature of this update, reviews are MUCH appreciated & rather necessary in getting the next chapter down on paper...or laptop as the case may be ;)
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...
The rumours are TRUE. She IS in fact ALIVE! And shamefacedly she edges her way back out of the shadows with this offering in the hopes of appeasing her audience. Hopefully 5K+ words is a good start on the road to forgiveness? My muse has taken on the identity of a will o' the wisp it would seem & I've just managed to pin her down for a moment. Please, do what you can to make her stay for the sake of my OWN sanity...xo
The combination of blood pressure medication Dr. Jansen had prescribed and the exhaustion and stress from coming home in the midst of a press mob had drained the editor of the little strength she had managed to regain in healing from the surgery and both women found that the first three days of mandated bedrest were exactly that, with no arguments from the editor who spent much of that time actually sleeping - much to the amazement of her fiancée who had been prepared for a series of lengthy battles over what did and did not count as an act of physical exertion. But both women had adjusted to their insular little world, with Caroline and Cassidy providing welcome distraction and comic relief as they basked in the undivided attention from both women. The only sore points came when their 'bubble' was intruded upon by the homecare nurse who was tasked with taking the required readings of Miranda's blood pressure and heart rate along with the requisite vial of blood and the occasional urine sample to test for proteins that would indicate another pre-eclamptic episode. Unfortunately, this generally meant that Miranda's blood pressure was slightly elevated over what it should have been for each of the tests as she iced out the poor soul who had been sent to enter the lair of the dragon.
The date of Andy's departure to Tehran loomed ever closer on the horizon, and Miranda's mood seemed to darken with it despite the fact that she had been the one to insist the young woman go in the first place.
Two days before the end of total bed rest and eight days before Andy was scheduled to leave, Miranda set aside her nearly untouched dinner and huffed despondently at the luggage Andy had hauled up from the basement that afternoon and was sitting at the door of the closet, waiting to be packed.
"Twelve days."
Andy looked up from her laptop to see the older woman brooding silently as she stared down the weathered pieces of luggage Andy had insisted were entirely suitable for her trip, refusing to consider the 7 piece Louis Vuitton set she had seen Emily struggle in with the third day of Miranda's bedrest and was currently residing in the hall closet.
"Twelve days and then I'm right back here with you. You're going to be so busy making sure Nigel and Emily are running the magazine properly that after the first few days you're hardly going to notice I'm gone, and then you'll be starting back at the office and I KNOW you'll be too busy to miss me."
"Nonsense, I'll still notice your absence Andrea…the pillows aren't nearly as conducive to a good night's rest."
"Sweet talker…" Andy shook her head wryly and flopped down on her stomach on top of the comforter so that she was practically lying on Miranda's lap.
"Okay guys, ground rules while I'm gone…First of all, you stay put. We've got eight more weeks until you're eligible for parole so I don't want to hear about any plans you may have otherwise. You are hereby grounded until 36 weeks and no giving mommy a hard time about it."
Miranda smirked and let her fingers trail through silky brunette strands as the chestnut head bent and pressed kisses and whispers to the silken warmth of her skin, "laying down the law?"
"Mmm, we'll see who's the pushover once they're born," Andy parried back, knowing that as strict as Miranda liked to think she was, there was still very little to which she wouldn't acquiesce if asked by Caroline and Cassidy, who although truly were sweet and affectionate girls, had undoubtedly been spoiled and given everything they wanted from the time they had been old enough to ask for it.
"I think it's safe to say that we'll soon find they have us wrapped around their fingers," Miranda's free hand absently cupped her abdomen as she spoke, wishing as ever, for the moment she could actually hold her babies in her arms and count those fingers.
"Miranda, they had us wrapped around their fingers before they even HAD fingers."
The first true laugh Andy had heard since she had been in hospital rang out from Miranda's lips and the knot in Andy's stomach that tightened every time she thought about leaving eased somewhat.
A familiar glint was forming in Miranda's eyes now and Andy recognized it as a dangerous one and she hung her head dramatically and rolled onto her back, flopping her head over to raise an eyebrow at Miranda as the older woman blinked innocently at her in direct contrast to the crocodile grin spreading across her lips.
"Alright, what is it?"
"I don't know what you mean," Miranda sniffed, "I was simply thinking it might be nice to have a family movie night tonight before the work week begins."
"Uh-huh," Andy's expression remained bemusedly skeptical. "And are we properly supplied for such an occasion, or am I to be sent out on a Sunday evening in rush hour traffic?"
Ten minutes later found Andy grabbing the keys to Miranda's little silver Mercedes and heading out the door only to return an hour later from the corner convenience store laden with the 'supplies' Miranda had deemed requisite for such a family venture.
"Andy, is that you?" heavy footfalls clattered down the stairs, the sound preceding the two redheaded whirlwinds who immediately pounced on the bag.
"Now I see where I rate," Andy teased, lightly checking Caroline with her hip as she and her sister examined the spoils. "I suppose it's simply my lucky lot in life to cater to the whims of the Priestly women…"
The girls turned to Andy open-mouthed and wide-eyed and the brunette chuckled at the dramatics as they stared down at a bag of chips. "What? You guys know the babies have been making your mom crave some crazy things. Doritos are probably the least weird thing she's asked for." Andy's nose wrinkled as a thought came to her, "unless there's some sort of dip involved that I'm not aware of."
"No. Andy you don't get it. She HATES Doritos. We're not even allowed to have them inside the house."
"What? Why?"
"According to mom, "in addition to being hideously unhealthy, they are also abhorrently messy and she won't have them near any fabric or clothes"."
"Yeah," Cassidy chimed in, "I think I remember something about a vintage Dior gown that got ruined during a photo shoot because someone hadn't washed their hands after eating Doritos for lunch and they got oily fingerprints and orange powder all over the raw silk."
Andy cringed at the description, yeah that would certainly do it for Miranda - although she didn't know who at Runway would rather be caught dead than eating the processed, oily corn chips.
But the way Miranda's eyes lit up when she saw the reflective glint of the aluminum foil left no doubt in Andy's mind as to the legitimacy of the craving, and she watched with no small amount of amusement as the editor hummed and chewed contentedly through the entire bag, her expression coming somewhere close to devastated when she realized her admittedly orange stained fingers hit the bottom and no more crumbs could be enticed from the corners.
So adorable was the forlorn expression on her face that Andy swooped in to steal a kiss from the powdered lips. "Mmm, you taste like cheese," Andy leaned in for a second kiss even as Miranda blushed and turned her head away. Miranda was even more discomfited when she had to accept the younger woman's help in rolling out of the bed so that she didn't touch the sheets before she had the chance to wash the gunk off of her fingers and brush her teeth.
Although she wasn't about to admit it, the indulgent snack had left Miranda feeling sluggish and a little queasy as she settled in for the second half of the movie. She suppressed a belch and grimaced as she felt the burn of stomach acid coat the back of her throat, mixing awfully with the taste of the mouthwash she had just used. She hiccupped once and rubbed the middle of her chest with the heel of her hand, willing the uncomfortable sensation away as she moved deeper into the embrace of the other woman, knowing the brunette's hands would quickly find their place and hoping the familiar comfort would settle her stomach.
Not wanting to move and disturb Miranda, Andy lifted her chin from where it had been resting against Miranda's crown. "Cass, honey, could you go down to the kitchen and bring back a glass of milk? And calling out as an afterthought as the little girl ran out, "careful on the stairs!"
Cassidy soon returned, handing over the glass and turning her attentions back to the movie alongside her sister laid out along the foot of the bed, ignoring the argument behind them.
"Andrea, I really don't want anything to drink. It will pass soon, I'm sure."
"Land sakes, woman, is there anything you're not going to argue with me about?"
Another soft belch and a wince from Miranda prompted the brunette to roll her eyes and huff in frustration as she tried again to hold out the beverage for Miranda to take.
"I detest milk."
"And I detest sitting here, watching you go through discomfort you don't have to." Andy shot back, winning the argument as she tempered the loss with the tender treatment she lavished on Miranda as the older woman grudgingly emptied the glass.
Ten minutes later, Miranda was forced to admit to herself that the disgusting beverage seemed to have done the trick and the roiling pit of acid that had been her stomach had calmed considerably, the last uncomfortable twinges soothed away by Andy's fingers. Watching her family as they all had their focus on the film, Miranda wondered again at her luck and the sheer improbability of ever having this kind of peace and contentment within a relationship. Resting her head once more against the younger woman's chest, Miranda closed her eyes as she felt the brush of soft lips at her temple. How on earth could this woman manage to love the 'Ice Queen'? It still amazed her how natural it felt to be held like this and not desperately want to escape what would normally feel like a cloying embrace. With Stephen and even with Jeremy, there had always been a wariness in the back of her mind and an acute awareness of how she looked or acted and ensuring it fit within the persona she had created for herself. Never would she have felt so comfortable submitting or participating in such open displays of affection. The only kissing and cuddling outside of sex was reserved entirely for her girls. Her gaze moved to the foot of the bed and the two tawny heads bent close together over the bowl of popcorn and quickly growing gangly legs tangled underneath a blanket pulled from Caroline's bed.
Part of her couldn't imagine doing it all over again. Two infants, two newborns, God she might really be too old for this. But stronger than any of her fears or reservations about becoming a 'new' mother again at 50 were her fears that she wouldn't. That all the naysayers and skeptics were right and she would never get the chance to raise these two new little lives. That she would fail and Andrea would blame her and leave and her girls would decide to live with their father rather than face living with the empty bitter shell she would surely become if all that were come to pass. No, she exhaled slowly, focusing on slowing her pulse and calming her heartbeat as she concentrated on the gentle wiggles and squirms of the babies as they pressed against Andrea's palms in a gentle game of tag or hide and seek.
"If you're going to rile them up, you had better be the one who's going to get them back to sleep," Miranda murmured wryly, prompting a laugh from the younger woman. "Mmm, just like mommy I think they'll tire out pretty quickly," Andy teased.
"Hmph, can you promise that while I'm here alone for the next week when you're back at work and I'm still barred from the office?"
"Weeell, you can start planning out the nursery." Andy stifled a grin as she saw Miranda's interest was piqued - not that the older woman would ever give any indication that she agreed with the proposed solution.
Miranda quirked up an eyebrow interestedly, musing inwardly to herself. That did sound as though it could occupy a good deal of her time, and she could always have Emily run over fabric swatches or paint samples and in doing so obtain information about the goings on at Runway, given that Andy had threatened them to silence within an inch of their lives, and loyal minions that they were, Miranda knew they would be true to their word for both her and Andrea's sakes.
"Fine, at least that will be something," Miranda huffed, already pulling together colour schemes in her head for a gender-neutral nursery.
Once the initial plans had been drawn up and the fabric samples chosen and ordered, it was to be a test of both women's patience as they dealt with a bored, ill-tempered Miranda over the next week of bed rest. With Andy back at work, the girls at school and their extra-curricular activities, and now not even the home care nurse to break up the monotony of the day, the result was an irritable, peevish editor in chief who seemed to find more fault in the small amount of her employee's work than when she was in full command of the Runway offices. With her focus so totally zeroed in given the miniscule amount of 'editing' she was allowed to do, nothing was good enough, so pedantic was her scrutiny of the pages and editorial content.
"Are you resting?" Andy's voice echoed accusingly through the speaker of the phone one afternoon during one of Miranda's daily requisite two calls, and she heard the telltale shuffle of papers being pushed to one side and she shook her head ruefully, raising her eyes to the ceiling in weary bemusement.
"I was attempting to," La Priestly made a re-appearance over the phone line, "however the whims and fancies of our children prevented any kind of restorative nature 'resting' would have provided.
Privately, Andy thought to herself that was possibly the most evasive way possible of stating that you were craving something that wasn't readily available. Only Miranda…
"Well whatever it is that you want, call Cara or Maria to get it for you, please." She heard Miranda's scoff through the phone and her voice became firmer. "Miranda, you are on BED-rest. Not foot-rest, or sitting on your butt-rest. Right now you aren't going anywhere." She still wasn't sure Miranda was convinced and so she pulled another trick out of her arsenal. "Look down."
Miranda scowled at the phone but her gaze softened as she lowered her gaze.
"Think of it as making sure they get their rest. You wouldn't make Cass & Caro get out of bed and go to school and piano lessons if they were sick. So if you won't do it for yourself, which makes me so sad to think that you don't see yourself like I do, do it for our tiny, sweet terrors that already keep us up at night."
There was a long silence and then a question that wavered slightly at the end, making Andy's heart skip as she knew it meant Miranda was close to tears, even if they were brought on by hormones. "What time will you be home tonight?"
"Soon as I can," Andy answered, partly wishing she could pack up now. "But that will probably be around 6 or 7."
"The terrors and I will wait for you then, both sets."
"Now do you promise to get Cara or Maria to get whatever it is you refuse to tell me you're craving?"
Andy could all but hear the sigh and accompanying eye roll on the other end of the line and she smiled ruefully, seeing that her plan to distract a tearful, hormonal Miranda had worked.
"Yes. Now go work so you can come home."
"I will. I love you."
"And I you, darling," the warmth returned to Miranda's voice before the line cut off, leaving Andy shaking her head and smiling, thinking that some things would never change.
What Andy did have a hard time getting Miranda to consider was the promised photo shoot that would feature the pregnant editor and to which she was sorely regretting agreeing to as the date for the shoot grew closer and final decisions needed to be made.
"Come on, Mira," Andy whined, "No one is going to see most of these except for family - and I for one want to remember how beautiful you looked while you were carrying our son and daughter."
"There will be nothing 'bared', no vulgar swathes of fabric and large expanses of skin and so help you if you think alphabet letter blocks or a pair of infant's shoes is going anywhere near my stomach."
"Oh come on, not even mini Louboutins or Choos?" Andy teased, reaching out for the bump in question over which the pregnant woman had crossed her arms and was now glaring at her tartly.
"Have you ever considered what you would do if I were to cut off your access to my abdomen?" Miranda asked, a smirk playing across her lips at the brunette's scandalised expression and successive tightening of her hold around Miranda's waist, pressing her cheek flush against the swell.
"Die," she exhaled dramatically, turning to bury her face into the body part in question as she stretched out on the couch.
"And when I no longer resemble a water retaining sausage?"
"Is that happening anytime soon?" Andy teased, eyes sparking mischievously as she laughed, playfully ducking as a hand reached out to swat at the dark head.
"Then there are going to be two tiny babies to hold, in addition to my gorgeous wife and beautiful daughters."
"Tiny may be an all too apt descriptor." Miranda looked down at her lap. What seemed so large and cumbersome a burden on her frame was really housing two very small, fragile infants that if delivered overly prematurely, stood very little chance of thriving once outside of the womb. Every day and every inch her body was able to grow gave the babies their best chance of survival and she pondered her expanded waistline and the all too precious contents that seemed so inconsequentially sheltered by the meagre protection her body was able to offer despite her best efforts.
"Stop it." Andy's voice was still muffled as she had her face pressed to Miranda's stomach.
"Stop what?" Miranda was perplexed as she hadn't said anything past her initial comment.
"Thinking," Andy replied, flipping her hair back and tilting her head back to meet Miranda's gaze. "I can hear you."
Warmth suffused Miranda as she once again reveled in the depth of the brunette's apparent love for her and she returned the emotion in her own way, replying somewhat acerbically "Some of us find that easier to do than others."
"Ouch!
The pictures they were having done would be for both personal and professional use. With great reluctance, Miranda had agreed to Leslie's publicity ploy and would appear in a Runway exclusive editorial containing an interview with her and Andrea about their engagement and the coming additions.
"Don't forget, Eduardo is coming at 10 on Monday to prep for the office shots - I think they mostly want you at your desk at a profile. Also, it looks like the notes say they want you in a wrap dress, killer shoes because you won't be standing or walking in them, no jacket because it will cover the bump and deep jewel tones for one set of B roll as a contrast to the black and white of your office."
"Now they're presuming to tell me what to wear? Do they know who they are dealing with?"
"Miranda, you know Nigel is behind all of it, and you also know he would never make you look bad. All I've been educated on is the thought process behind having you in the draped white jersey and me in that black, sculptural, angular Zac Posen bustier meets suit jacket meets origami piece that Emily was drooling over last week."
"And that is?"
"Simple juxtaposition. Black, white, bride, groom, dark, light, soft, hard and the dichotomy of those facets of personalities coming together and 'culminating' in a new family and dynamic.
Miranda had thought as much herself, but she was pleased to see Andrea really had learned the power of communication through choices in fashion and style. She was also equally pleased that she would see the younger woman in the outfit that had been chosen for her. The cut would be another striking contrast against the brunette's curves and the result, even in theory, made Miranda weak in the knees.
She wouldn't have minded seeing Andrea in all white however, simply to entice her imagination as to what the young woman would look like on their wedding day. She already had a picture in her mind of Andrea as the perfect blushing bride - as she would be no matter what she wore, but she supposed her hormones and the romantic side Andrea seemed to bring out in her reared their head and she was swept away in a fantasy of fabrications of chiffons and charmeuses, satins and silks…
From a stylistic or creative standpoint though, it made greater editorial sense to show the perceived 'dominant' personality in a less harsh light, highlighting the bloom of femininity that was inherently apparent in her expectant state. It also evened the scales for those who would seek to decry Andrea's role in the relationship as the weaker half. The power suit and the decidedly 'adult' edge to her outfit and makeup would, if executed correctly, serve as the perfect foil for the softened portrayal of the editor as well as underscoring the position Andrea had adopted, at least in the press's viewpoint, as Miranda's protector, both in the trial and in the public eye. Only those closest to the couple knew how deeply that sentiment ran and how fiercely guarded Andy was over anything having to do with Miranda. Certainly enough to give anyone pause in their consideration of who was top and who was bottom on the most regular basis.
Yep. Nigel was good. He was also the only one who could ever get away with it, Andy thought to herself. She knew what clothing she preferred Miranda in - apart from the obvious 'none' that wickedly came to mind - but she would never attempt to tell Miranda what to wear. Nope, nuh-uh, no way Jose…
With Miranda more than eager to return to Runway and resume her editorial duties, the tensions in the household switched and it was now the brunette's turn to brood suddenly when she wasn't running around with last minute preparations for her trip, or the twins or a still housebound Miranda.
The night before Andy was scheduled to fly out and Miranda had been medically cleared to go back to work by Dr. Jansen after a final home visit by the doctor earlier that day, Andy fixed the editor with a long, serious stare - making sure the older woman was giving her her complete attention as she looked over top of her reading glasses at the solemn expression on the younger woman's face.
"Promise me, Miranda - and don't say anything if you can't, but I need to know that you're not going to push yourself too hard when you go back to work." Brown eyes bored almost painfully into blue as they turned liquid with tears the brunette was determined not to let fall as she tried to impart the seriousness of her message to Miranda.
"I came so close," her voice was choked and harsh as she fixed her gaze on the woman in front of her. "I was so close to losing you - to losing everything. You keep saying I need to be careful while I'm over there? That couldn't be farther from the truth, there is nothing that matters for me over there. There is nothing of me to worry about. All that I care about and all that I am is right here in New York, right here in this townhouse in the two bedrooms across the hall and in this bed right here." Andy drew herself up onto her knees and leaned forward to press her lips to Miranda's, wanting desperately to convey the depth of her emotion without making Miranda feel like she was giving ultimatums.
Sitting back on her heels, she traced the now swollen lips with her thumb and continued. "I'm leaving my heart here, please, please take care of it. The thought of leaving you is so much scarier than the thought of flying into a warzone." Andy shook her head and snorted, "How messed up is that, or how's that for an example of writer's use of hyperbole? But it's true." Andy shrugged as Miranda gathered the younger woman's hands in her own and brought them together to her chest as she ducked her own head to meet the younger woman's distracted gaze.
"Andrea, no matter what happens. With me, or the babies, or the trial or anything else, you must know that I am deeply aware of the gift you have given me in loving me as I don't believe anyone ever has besides my girls, and of course that's a different kind of love. I don't take that gift lightly, and I promise I will do everything in my power to see that I don't ruin that trust. Your heart, as you say it is, will be right here waiting for you - and even though you say it is staying in New York, know that mine won't be whole or satisfied and won't rest easy until you return."
Andy slid down alongside Miranda as the older woman abandoned the notes she was making on the last few pages of the Book, putting it to the side as she reached for the light on the bedside table. Her nightshirt rose up as she did so and Andy's hand moved over to raise it a few inches further, pressing her fingers then her lips to where the healing incision was etched into the pale skin, the straight edged horizontal cut bisecting the softened reddish lines that had begun to stripe the gravid swell. At first Miranda had been horrified, and then incensed at nobody other than herself for being so foolish as to think she wouldn't get stretch marks carrying twins for a second time at 50 years old. It had been so long, ten years she thought with a strange melancholy, since her last pregnancy with the girls that the marks she bore as a result of their birth had all but faded to silvery lines and shadows. Now the old silver and the new pink mixed together in a combination Miranda had called horrid and Andy had proclaimed beautiful when she had caught the older woman trying to change in the bathroom. She had soon put a stop to that, telling Miranda flat out that she was being ridiculous and then running a single hand down the length of Miranda's body that managed to imbue all the tenderness her words lacked, leaving Miranda once more incredulous at the immense gift she had been given in the younger woman who looked at her with a desire and a hunger that rivalled the admiring and even lustful gazes typically reserved for the likes of those select few chosen to grace the pages of Runway.
"Andrea?"
"Yes?"
"Would you mind not thinking quite so loudly? I'm quite sure it's affecting my ability to concentrate on my work." The icy tones of 'La Priestly' were belied by the softened expression in the blues that came to rest on stormy brown. Andy snorted wryly and let her head fall forward with a groan. Suddenly, her head popped back up, the worried, murky brown replaced by a familiar wicked gleam that sparked the older woman's stifled libido as a long, lithe body slid itself against her as its owner moved up the bed, fingertips trailing lazy paths over the valley, curves and bumps beneath them that belonged to the editor.
"Are you suure I can't convince you to start your maternity leave early?" Andy purred, her voice at its most smoky and seductive. But in spite of the sudden flush & flood of heat distracting her, Miranda managed to fix the younger woman with a firm look.
"No."
"Damn." Andy flopped back, all traces of smoke gone from her voice Miranda noted with some disappointment. "Should've known not even pent-up pregnancy hormones in overdrive wouldn't work."
"Andrea, I think we can both agree that my mental health would be compromised if I were made to 'rest' and be idle for the next three months. Miranda felt a familiar lick of fear as the words passed her lips, the argument they were leading up to all too familiar and all too unwelcome when it came to Andrea.
Lost in the beginning throes of a panic attack, Miranda startled when she felt the cool press of lips against her overheated skin and she looked down at her arm where the journalist now rested her chin.
"I know, I know you have to work. It's part of you and I don't want to change any part of that."
The tightness in Miranda's chest eased and she waited patiently for the brunette to find her next words she was so clearly searching for.
"I'm not asking for me. It's not for me or because I'm jealous or feel second-place. It's for you, for your sake, to keep you here and whole with me. You can tell me your heart belongs to me Miranda, or that it beats for me, but even you can't make it do so if nature decides otherwise…"
"If nature decides otherwise, then there's nothing we can do," Miranda murmured softly as she reached out to stroke the younger woman's cheek.
"Hmph." Andy blew out her bangs and burrowed in more forcefully into the older woman's lap, jostling her arm slightly and causing the pen to mark the page she was editing. But Miranda found she couldn't quite bring herself to care, and she paused as that led to further expostulation on just how different it was with this relationship, with her Andrea.
In case you've forgotten due to the LOOOONG nature of this update, reviews are MUCH appreciated & rather necessary in getting the next chapter down on paper...or laptop as the case may be ;)