Chapter 43: There's No Place Like Home
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...
Okay, okay, I REALLY didn't notice how long it had been since I had posted. But my headspace hasn't been there - literally, job changes, health changes, the turning of the tides? Can I blame that? and the 'Miranda' part of my brain wouldn't let me post anything I thought was really and truly substandard as opposed to simply the usual doubts. But I HAVE NOT and WILL NOT be abandoning this story. Merely attempting to affect the appearance (note qualifier) of brilliance or at least at-par entertainment.
So don't give up on me! I hope this serves to stabilize some of the 'fragility' I know has been present for the last couple of days in the wake of the us electoral system's catastrophic events. All my love & God Bless to America and everyone else out there...
Finally, only 16 hours and 13 minutes remained until both women would share the same soil once again & their missing halves could reconnect. Sixteen hours, thirteen minutes, seven and a half thousand miles and one rush hour cab ride. Still it seemed like an eternity to the restless figure sitting awake in the predawn light in the townhouse contemplating the hours left to fill with some level of productivity.
As the clock struck five, she permitted herself to rise & ready for the day, dressing carefully as she always did but lingering a little longer in front of the full length mirror by her dressing table and examining the figure she presented. Had her appearance changed in the time Andrea had been gone? Was there any noticeable difference that could be seen in her figure? She knew the younger woman would notice instantly if there were, but she herself wondered if the last two weeks had wrought any significant alterations. Turning to one side and then the other, Miranda lay a hand on top of her stomach and twisted slightly to view the reflection of the resulting angle. Had her hips widened by an inch or so as the bump widened and grew outwards? Certainly she could feel the pressure on her hipbones and how its weight caused the muscles in her core to shift and pull. Had she grown noticeably larger? At this point she felt enormous even though she hadn't yet reached the final growth spurt Dr. Jansen was hoping for before it was time to deliver the babies. A rippling shift reached through to her fingers from beneath the fabric of her dress and gentle fingertips traced over the tiny foot or hand that reached out. She sniffed, she supposed Andrea would be thrilled to hear she had gained another four pounds while the younger woman was away. She supposed she should consider it an accomplishment, however three decades in the fashion industry made for a healthy amount of dismay when she had gone in for her bi-weekly appointment & been made to step on the scale following the requisite blood pressure check. The results for that had been borderline and Dr. Jansen cautiously agreed with Miranda's rationalisation that Andrea's absence and dangerous assignment was likely the underlying stressor for the slightly elevated readings.
"Once Andrea is no longer in a warzone in a terrorist, populated subsection of the Middle East, my rest will be that much easier, Dr. Jansen. Until that time however, I'm afraid I find myself unable to relax."
"Yes, I can understand that," Dr. Jansen had sighed, scrutinizing the slight frame and the tension carried in the immaculately clad figure and frowning slightly. "But be careful, Miranda, we want Andy to come home to find you in perfectly running order as you promised."
"You make me sound as though I'm an automobile. I have no intention of rusting out despite my age, I assure you."
"It's not so much a question of aging as it is of running on fumes or empty cylinders. Can you imagine the grief both of us would catch if Andy were to come back and find you in a state?"
"Whatever 'state' I'm in, her return will be the cause for my restoration so let us say no more on the matter and we can both get on with our day."
And so it was with no small amount of patience that Miranda managed to get through the morning and early afternoon with as little bloodshed as possible before she found the hands of the white art-deco timepiece on her desk all too diverting a distraction and cancelled the rest of her meetings for the day in favour of going home and waiting for Andrea there, the younger woman having talked her out of meeting her at the airport.
With the girls still in school for another two hours, Miranda had the house to herself, having dismissed Cara and the housekeeper who had left with knowing smiles upon the editor's not-too-unexpected early arrival home.
Miranda was brought back to a year ago when anticipation of the sound of the key in the lock preceded too the arrival of a certain brunette and she mused over how different the circumstances had been. Where before those feelings of anticipation were accompanied by fear and uncertainty and mistrust of her own emotions, now she was overwhelmingly filled with the knowledge that the other woman felt the same way and that now they were together there wasn't anything that could separate them apart from their own vices and demons.
Her skin flushed as she heard the scraping of the key in the lock, and she suddenly felt trapped - not knowing whether to stay where she was or begin moving towards the door.
"Honey, I'm home."
Miranda ignored the way the younger woman kicked the door closed behind her and moved in closer, needing to touch and feel the figure before her to know that she was real and she was back with her, safe and whole and hers.
"You are ridiculous," Miranda sniffed, but reached for Andrea's hands all the same and pulled them to her waist.
"And you've gotten so much bigger!" Andy's voice climbed as the chill of her hands filtered through the fine gauge of the cashmere covering the bump and Miranda raised an eyebrow. "I do hope you're speaking specifically to the babies, Andrea."
Andy laughed, "Of course. But you do realize that at the moment it's not really a case of one or the other? They kind of go part in parcel at this point."
"I'd stop talking if I were you or I guarantee you'll find yourself missing out."
"Oh, I think I can call your bluff on that one, Priestly." Andy grinned as the body underneath her hands swayed into her even as its owners voice turned arch.
"But who am I to make my baby mama mad at me?"
Miranda rolled her eyes, "Baby mama. Andrea, really. Why do I put up with you?"
"Because you looove me," Andrea sing-songed, her easy smile charming Miranda all over again and causing goosebumps to raise over her skin as the younger woman leaned in to steal a kiss from lips that were still slightly pursed in consternation.
"Heaven knows why, but I suppose I always will," Miranda murmured, cutting off any further commentary by firmly pressing her lips against Andrea's, directing the younger woman backwards towards the stairs.
"Too long. Too long without you," Miranda murmured against Andrea's skin as she feverishly attacked the younger woman, who seemed equally determined to ravish Miranda after she got over her surprise as she moved forward until Miranda's back was pressed against the door.
"Lemme at that belly," Andy growled teasingly as she broke off from the kiss, laughing as a sturdy set of kicks thumped against her own flat abdomen and she dropped to her knees on the cold marble, pushing up the skirt of Miranda's knit wool dress as she did so.
"I missed you too guys. Did you behave yourself while I was gone?"
"No, they did not," Miranda sniffed, her attempt to affect annoyance with her tone ruined by the smile that spread across her features as she looked down at the glossy chestnut head that was whispering and pressing kisses to her belly. She couldn't imagine this with any of her ex-husbands, this complete, overwhelming devotion. "I daresay they missed you almost as much as I did."
If you had asked her six months ago if she would have tolerated anyone touching her stomach or being comfortable enough to let anyone besides her girls 'talk' to her growing abdomen she would have all but had them beheaded. She couldn't remember Jeremy ever kissing or talking to her belly during her first pregnancy; well perhaps talking, she mused further, and she did remember the proud smile on her ex-husband's face when he felt the babies kick. But this intimacy that came so naturally with the young woman was almost frightening in its intensity, and instead of simple tolerance or even good natured resignation, she found herself warmed from head to toe as she watched Andrea interact with the unborn babies, her hands mapping the growth of two weeks she'd missed.
"Mmm," Andrea hummed as she rose to her feet. "And did you behave?" her tongue flicked the soft pink shell of the editor's ear as strong arms held the other woman close as Miranda's legs trembled at the sensations coursing through her.
"Ah! Of-of course…" Miranda tried to sound unaffected as blood pounded in her ears.
"So the eighteen messages I have from Nigel and Emily are simply inquiries as to where the best sushi places are in Tel Aviv?"
Miranda scowled, and the look on her face in conjunction with the arms crossed over her neat baby bump was enough to melt Andrea all over again in the face of such, well there really was no other word for it, 'cuteness'.
"Traitors," the older woman muttered, before forgetting any thoughts of revenge or retribution as the brunette's hands rubbed soothingly across the bulge at her waist.
"Donatella had her hands on my belly for almost the entire time we were at lunch last Thursday. Thank God we were sitting in the back of the restaurant or tomorrow's headlines would read 'Ice Queen gets groped by Deranged Designer'.
Andy laughed, wrapping her arms around the other woman once more before pecking her sweetly on the nose, "Poor Miranda."
"You know very well the only person I can stand to have touch me for extended periods of time is you. Even the doctor's visits are torture."
"Mmm, and that rule goes both ways. Me and the girls are the only ones who get to touch you." Andy's hands moved downwards from Miranda's waist and absentmindedly started rubbing firm circles on the editor's lower back, working out the knots and causing said editor's legs to nearly give out at the sharp ache that faded into even sharper relief.
"Don't laugh, I haven't had a decent night's sleep since you left."
"Does that mean I should take you to bed?" Andy's smile was wicked and Miranda's heart beat a violent thrumming tattoo against her ribcage that echoed in the wet heat pooling between her legs as she was pressed against the younger woman's body and the closet door.
"Please," she whispered.
"Mm, I think that's exactly what I'll do," Andy's touch turned from tender to teasing and her hands slid to cup Miranda's rear and bring their hips together as best they could
"Please, please, please," Miranda's soft cries became rhythmic as they coupled with her body's rocking motion as she moved against Andrea, not caring any more about appearances or power plays or who needed who more. All she knew was her need for the younger woman. A single tear escaped her eye as she pulled breath back into her lungs.
Andy looked down at the flushed and slightly embarrassed looking woman slowly coming back to herself in her arms and she bent her head once more to steal her breath away with a long kiss that left the older woman even weaker in the knees than before and breathless to the point of seeing stars as she gasped in great mouthfuls of air when their lips finally parted.
"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck." Andy's mind stumbled over itself as she took in the figure standing across the room from her the next morning. She thought they had done enough of that the night before, even after their first hurried but nonetheless passionate and real coupling upon Andrea's return - and the physical reminders and soreness in that area backed up her claim, but as Andy stared past a rapidly becoming exasperated Serena who was trying to apply the finishing touches to the brunette's makeup, Andy decided they most definitely had not done enough the night before - at least if her current libido and level of need were anything to go by. The two women were preparing to shoot the interior images for the Runway article that would provide an 'inside look' at their engagement and hopefully serve to quieten some of the rumors stirred up by the trial, and to a lesser degree, Irv.
Andy's eyes remained glued to the editor's body, which was currently enrobed in some sinfully cut, sensually draped periwinkle dream of fabric that may have covered the curves in question but did nothing to hide them.
Emily rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers in front of the journalist's nose. "Oi, Rover, stop drooling or you'll ruin all the work my darling's put into making you presentable to actually appear in Runway."
Andy reluctantly tore her gaze away from the editor and looked at Emily plaintively. "Would you look at her? I'm going to marry that. Her. Miranda. Goddamn, how did I ever manage that?"
"That would be the million dollar question all of us are asking ourselves." Emily responded, earning her a gentle tap from her Brazilian lover's makeup brush.
"Be nice, I think it's romantic she cannot keep her eyes off of her - certainly you have had the same problem with the same woman, no?."
"Oh, shut up Serena,"Emily blushed as red as her hair and the other woman laughed.
"My God, have you looked at her?" Andy's gaze was once more all over the editor and she slid off the high stool and stalked over to where Miranda was speaking with Nigel about the overhead lighting and carefully, so as not to disturb the older woman's immaculately coiffed hair, took her face in her hands and brazenly kissed her for longer than was potentially appropriate for an office setting. Breaking off breathlessly, Andy shook her head lightly, fixing a faint smear of lipstick with her thumb and murmuring incredulously, "I'm going to marry the hell out of you."
Everyone in the office held their breath at the unexpected scene, unsure of the publishing titan's reaction and mouths dropped afresh as Miranda Priestly threw back her head and laughed in a clear tone before pulling Andrea's head towards her until their lips were just touching. "You better," she whispered against plump red lips before joining them once again on her own terms.
Once people's attentions had been diverted elsewhere, Miranda took Andy by the hand and led her into her office, causing several crew workers setting up lights to abandon their tasks and scatter. "Now what was that all about?" Miranda queried, slightly bemused as she tried to direct Andrea's gaze to her own that kept wandering over her body. "Jesus, Miranda, do you have any idea just how fucking sexy you look right now? Fuck. I mean damn, I can't even. Goddamn, Miranda." Miranda's laugh rung out once again. "I believe I'll take that as a compliment. Remind me to thank Nigel for choosing this piece if this is the kind of reaction it elicits."
"Nigel? Nigel picked this out? Dammit, I'll kill him!" Andy was so turned on she could hardly see straight and was almost angry as she stared at the woman in front of her that she knew she couldn't have at that moment. "I have him to blame for this? And we're stuck here for another three hours? Dammit, Miranda, isn't there a closet somewhere. What about THE Closet?"
Andy's hands settled around Miranda's waist and slid down to the fronts of her thighs where the older woman caught them up and brought them to her lips before they wandered further. "I'm afraid not, my darling. It really wouldn't do to have the editor-in-chief caught in a pre-marital office romp."
Andy whimpered lightly and Miranda chuckled, utterly amazed at the devotion of the younger woman. "I promise darling, after the trial is over tomorrow and the girls don't need us like they will tonight, we can take all the time we need for each other."
"That's impossible," Andy breathed, her fingers trailing reverently over the delicate arch of collarbone, revelling in the softness of skin and warmth of the curves she molded her body against. "There's never going to be enough time in the world for me to love you like I want to. Like you deserve to be. Oh God, it will never be enough, Miranda."
The editor could say nothing but deliver a final, sweet kiss as her own breath was taken away by the heartfelt declaration.
Pulling away from the younger woman seated on the desk, Miranda readjusted the folds of her dress and swept back her hair until she was once more the picture of perfection. "Come now darling, this shoot was your idea after all."
"I must be a masochist," Andy moaned as she followed the older woman towards the door, not without a long suffering glance at the ass swaying enticingly in front of her.
"Now that, people would believe if it were printed in the article," Miranda grinned, "marrying the dragon as such - the ultimate act of sado-masochism."
"Oh, if only they knew."
Both women emerged from Miranda's office looking composed and physically flawless, but Andy moved up behind Nigel as they watched Miranda's individual shots be taken. "You are sooo going to pay for this," she growled in a low tone, feeling certain muscles clench involuntarily as she watched the editorial icon turn it 'on' and work the camera, staring into the lens with an intensity Andy recognized was usually reserved for when they were both very alone, and very naked.
"She looks good, doesn't she?" Nigel grinned, chuckling at his young friend's obvious discomfort. "Come now, Six, surely you should be used to this by now. You've seen Miranda when she's done a photo spread before."
"Yeah, but not while I've ever had the option of doing something about it." Andy crossed her arms and blew back her bangs. "Everyone who sees this is going to want her, would kill to have her."
"Ah, but Six," Nigel shook his head and tapped her nose with his pencil, "You can only pity them, because only one girl in a million gets to."
As she had expected, Miranda tried to escape the second half of the days plans for the shoot with the excuse of work. Once the office-shot proofs were deemed acceptable, Miranda attempted to convince the younger woman that there was simply too much to do at the office and that they would have to reschedule the private family photo session.
"Until when? When you're 8 cm dilated?" Andy threw up her hands exasperatedly before taking Miranda's in her own. "You said yourself, there's not that much time left until they're going to be here."
"Precisely," Miranda countered. "So I don't see why you won't acquiesce to my wishes that we wait."
"You know the answer to that, Miranda. We went over this, you agreed! These babies deserve to know how much they were loved before we ever held them in our arms. Think of all we, of all you, have been through already and they're still only in your belly. They're already a part of our family...We are a family already, aren't we?" Brown eyes bored into blue which closed in defeat before opening once more, softened.
"Yes, yes of course." Miranda sighed and waved a hand. "Send them ahead to the townhouse then and we'll follow after I tie up a few loose ends here. Carmen knows to let them in."
Andy moved in for a kiss but Miranda had already turned away to give out more instructions as the crew pared down and prepared to move locations. The younger woman sighed and let her head fall back against her shoulders, cracking her neck with a sigh. It was going to be the coup of a lifetime if she managed to get Miranda to relax enough for the shoot to be a success and they were already starting off on a rocky note. She couldn't even use the promise of sex or alcohol to soften the editor. She could only hope the presence of the girls for the last part of the shoot would be enough to ease the tension that was so palpable and visible in the woman's frame.
One saving grace was that the amount of people present for the shoot would be drastically reduced given that the pictures being taken were meant for private consumption and wouldn't be appearing in a nearly million dollar commercial spread. This meant that only Patrick and one or two crew members would be present at the townhouse in addition to Serena, who although wasn't strictly necessary, had agreed to do the girls' hair and makeup much to their delight and Miranda's resignation at the thought of her 'babies' looking so grown up.
In actuality, the photo shoot proved to be a blessing in disguise as it distracted the girls from thinking about the trial and their role in it the following day until much later in the evening when they sought out the two women less than an hour after being tucked into bed.
"Darlings, what are you doing out of bed? You know we have to be up very early in the morning."
"What if we mess up? Alex said the man might try and trick us with the way he asks questions."
"Yeah, we don't want to get you in trouble and say the wrong thing! Stephen could get away with it and it would be all our fault!"
Small voices got louder and more upset until Miranda had to raise her voice to be heard, although she softened her words as the two little bodies burrowed between the two women under the covers.
"Caroline. Cassidy. I want you to listen to me very closely," Miranda turned each girl's face in turn to face hers so that blue eyes met blue. "No matter what happens tomorrow, and no matter what the outcome is of this trial, you have already made me more proud than I can say. Not only did you know enough to get help the night of the acc-the assault," Miranda narrowly avoided calling it an accident, trying to whitewash it for the girls. But it wasn't an accident, they needed to know that. It was a malicious, intended act deliberately carried out by a man whom Miranda had once trusted with her children - and that thought caused a fresh wave of rage to rise up in her throat as she stared into the sweet faces of her babies who were paying the price for her mistakes.
"The assault," she continued, "You have also dealt with the situation with a maturity no one would expect from someone of your years. All coaching aside, your only job tomorrow is to tell the truth to the very best of your ability and your memory, and that is what is going to make us proud of you, not a story or an exaggeration that you think might win the case. You needn't worry about anything else. Not Stephen, not his lawyer, not the press or even Ms. Cabot to an extent. You simply tell the judge what you know to be true. Do you understand what I'm saying, Bobbsey's?"
"Yes mommy," the girls spoke in tandem in a moment of twin-speak.
"Andy are you and mommy gonna be there the whole time?"
"Yes baby, we're going to be right there, sitting in the very front row. So if you get scared or nervous, you just look at us, okay? Come on, let's get you back into bed. Kiss your mom g'night & get those rears in gear because I KNOW you won't be my little sunshines at 6 am."
The girls and Miranda smiled at this, but there was a set to Miranda's mouth that Andy didn't like but couldn't question with the girls in the room.
Miranda lay back against the headboard, trying to control her breathing and running her hands over the bump in an attempt to keep her blood pressure from indubitably rising as it was in the face of her daughters' distress. She could feel the blood rushing through her ears now and she grudgingly admitted to herself that it was likely a wise idea to find the medication Dr. Jansen had prescribed for occasions like this.
But nowhere on the bathroom counter or bedside table could she find the goddamn, blasted tablets and she had been hoping to keep Andrea from seeing her taking them.
"Andrea, where on God's earth are those tablets?" Miranda exploded upon the younger woman's return.
"Oh-" Andy sat up from the bed and disappeared down the stairs, returning after a moment with the bottle of pills in hand. "I put them in my purse so that I didn't forget them to have on hand in court tomorrow. She was about to ask Miranda if she would like some water when the older woman snatched them out of her hand and disappeared into the bathroom.
Shaking several tablets into her hand, Miranda downed the pills, grimacing at the aftertaste before fumbling for the counter as the room greyed and spun. Sitting down on the closed toilet seat with an inelegant thump, Miranda rested her head in her hands as she waited for the medication to start working and the room to still. Barefaced and hair unstyled, Miranda looked up to find her reflection staring back at her in the mirror. God, if the press or anyone at Runway could see her now. To see this Ice Queen like this was a picture worth a million dollars. Old and worn and playing at youth in such a way that it not only was endangering herself but also cursing the two lives she carried underneath her heart, not to mention the people who were foolish enough to stand by her. She felt so guilty whenever she was in their presence. Guilt - imagine that, the Dragon Lady can still feel guilt," she berated herself mentally. But like it or not, the fact remained that Miranda Priestly could feel her stomach cramp uncomfortably every time or she saw emails from Emily to Andrea at two in the morning, or Roy help her out of the car and Nigel working until one or two, occasionally with the help of Serena, to cover the work she was unable to do or restricted from doing. And Andrea, whose constant love and support was absolute and unwavering. She couldn't let her down, she couldn't fail at this. She refused to hurt the young woman that way. God knows it would destroy her should she fail to carry these babies to term, but she would also never forgive herself for the pain it would cause Andrea. Even if the younger woman denied it, Miranda also doubted that Andrea would ever forgive her for taking away her chance of a family.
Andy sighed and got back into bed. She had no idea if Miranda was mad at her, or simply lashing out from being scared or worried about the trial. An hour later, sleep still eluding her, Andy propped herself up on one elbow and watched the older woman sleep, her breathing that much deeper due to the effects of the pills. She ran her lips along the pale jawline and snuggled in more securely to the warm, vital body that carried her hopes and dreams before finally succumbing to a deep sleep herself.
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...
Okay, okay, I REALLY didn't notice how long it had been since I had posted. But my headspace hasn't been there - literally, job changes, health changes, the turning of the tides? Can I blame that? and the 'Miranda' part of my brain wouldn't let me post anything I thought was really and truly substandard as opposed to simply the usual doubts. But I HAVE NOT and WILL NOT be abandoning this story. Merely attempting to affect the appearance (note qualifier) of brilliance or at least at-par entertainment.
So don't give up on me! I hope this serves to stabilize some of the 'fragility' I know has been present for the last couple of days in the wake of the us electoral system's catastrophic events. All my love & God Bless to America and everyone else out there...
Finally, only 16 hours and 13 minutes remained until both women would share the same soil once again & their missing halves could reconnect. Sixteen hours, thirteen minutes, seven and a half thousand miles and one rush hour cab ride. Still it seemed like an eternity to the restless figure sitting awake in the predawn light in the townhouse contemplating the hours left to fill with some level of productivity.
As the clock struck five, she permitted herself to rise & ready for the day, dressing carefully as she always did but lingering a little longer in front of the full length mirror by her dressing table and examining the figure she presented. Had her appearance changed in the time Andrea had been gone? Was there any noticeable difference that could be seen in her figure? She knew the younger woman would notice instantly if there were, but she herself wondered if the last two weeks had wrought any significant alterations. Turning to one side and then the other, Miranda lay a hand on top of her stomach and twisted slightly to view the reflection of the resulting angle. Had her hips widened by an inch or so as the bump widened and grew outwards? Certainly she could feel the pressure on her hipbones and how its weight caused the muscles in her core to shift and pull. Had she grown noticeably larger? At this point she felt enormous even though she hadn't yet reached the final growth spurt Dr. Jansen was hoping for before it was time to deliver the babies. A rippling shift reached through to her fingers from beneath the fabric of her dress and gentle fingertips traced over the tiny foot or hand that reached out. She sniffed, she supposed Andrea would be thrilled to hear she had gained another four pounds while the younger woman was away. She supposed she should consider it an accomplishment, however three decades in the fashion industry made for a healthy amount of dismay when she had gone in for her bi-weekly appointment & been made to step on the scale following the requisite blood pressure check. The results for that had been borderline and Dr. Jansen cautiously agreed with Miranda's rationalisation that Andrea's absence and dangerous assignment was likely the underlying stressor for the slightly elevated readings.
"Once Andrea is no longer in a warzone in a terrorist, populated subsection of the Middle East, my rest will be that much easier, Dr. Jansen. Until that time however, I'm afraid I find myself unable to relax."
"Yes, I can understand that," Dr. Jansen had sighed, scrutinizing the slight frame and the tension carried in the immaculately clad figure and frowning slightly. "But be careful, Miranda, we want Andy to come home to find you in perfectly running order as you promised."
"You make me sound as though I'm an automobile. I have no intention of rusting out despite my age, I assure you."
"It's not so much a question of aging as it is of running on fumes or empty cylinders. Can you imagine the grief both of us would catch if Andy were to come back and find you in a state?"
"Whatever 'state' I'm in, her return will be the cause for my restoration so let us say no more on the matter and we can both get on with our day."
And so it was with no small amount of patience that Miranda managed to get through the morning and early afternoon with as little bloodshed as possible before she found the hands of the white art-deco timepiece on her desk all too diverting a distraction and cancelled the rest of her meetings for the day in favour of going home and waiting for Andrea there, the younger woman having talked her out of meeting her at the airport.
With the girls still in school for another two hours, Miranda had the house to herself, having dismissed Cara and the housekeeper who had left with knowing smiles upon the editor's not-too-unexpected early arrival home.
Miranda was brought back to a year ago when anticipation of the sound of the key in the lock preceded too the arrival of a certain brunette and she mused over how different the circumstances had been. Where before those feelings of anticipation were accompanied by fear and uncertainty and mistrust of her own emotions, now she was overwhelmingly filled with the knowledge that the other woman felt the same way and that now they were together there wasn't anything that could separate them apart from their own vices and demons.
Her skin flushed as she heard the scraping of the key in the lock, and she suddenly felt trapped - not knowing whether to stay where she was or begin moving towards the door.
"Honey, I'm home."
Miranda ignored the way the younger woman kicked the door closed behind her and moved in closer, needing to touch and feel the figure before her to know that she was real and she was back with her, safe and whole and hers.
"You are ridiculous," Miranda sniffed, but reached for Andrea's hands all the same and pulled them to her waist.
"And you've gotten so much bigger!" Andy's voice climbed as the chill of her hands filtered through the fine gauge of the cashmere covering the bump and Miranda raised an eyebrow. "I do hope you're speaking specifically to the babies, Andrea."
Andy laughed, "Of course. But you do realize that at the moment it's not really a case of one or the other? They kind of go part in parcel at this point."
"I'd stop talking if I were you or I guarantee you'll find yourself missing out."
"Oh, I think I can call your bluff on that one, Priestly." Andy grinned as the body underneath her hands swayed into her even as its owners voice turned arch.
"But who am I to make my baby mama mad at me?"
Miranda rolled her eyes, "Baby mama. Andrea, really. Why do I put up with you?"
"Because you looove me," Andrea sing-songed, her easy smile charming Miranda all over again and causing goosebumps to raise over her skin as the younger woman leaned in to steal a kiss from lips that were still slightly pursed in consternation.
"Heaven knows why, but I suppose I always will," Miranda murmured, cutting off any further commentary by firmly pressing her lips against Andrea's, directing the younger woman backwards towards the stairs.
"Too long. Too long without you," Miranda murmured against Andrea's skin as she feverishly attacked the younger woman, who seemed equally determined to ravish Miranda after she got over her surprise as she moved forward until Miranda's back was pressed against the door.
"Lemme at that belly," Andy growled teasingly as she broke off from the kiss, laughing as a sturdy set of kicks thumped against her own flat abdomen and she dropped to her knees on the cold marble, pushing up the skirt of Miranda's knit wool dress as she did so.
"I missed you too guys. Did you behave yourself while I was gone?"
"No, they did not," Miranda sniffed, her attempt to affect annoyance with her tone ruined by the smile that spread across her features as she looked down at the glossy chestnut head that was whispering and pressing kisses to her belly. She couldn't imagine this with any of her ex-husbands, this complete, overwhelming devotion. "I daresay they missed you almost as much as I did."
If you had asked her six months ago if she would have tolerated anyone touching her stomach or being comfortable enough to let anyone besides her girls 'talk' to her growing abdomen she would have all but had them beheaded. She couldn't remember Jeremy ever kissing or talking to her belly during her first pregnancy; well perhaps talking, she mused further, and she did remember the proud smile on her ex-husband's face when he felt the babies kick. But this intimacy that came so naturally with the young woman was almost frightening in its intensity, and instead of simple tolerance or even good natured resignation, she found herself warmed from head to toe as she watched Andrea interact with the unborn babies, her hands mapping the growth of two weeks she'd missed.
"Mmm," Andrea hummed as she rose to her feet. "And did you behave?" her tongue flicked the soft pink shell of the editor's ear as strong arms held the other woman close as Miranda's legs trembled at the sensations coursing through her.
"Ah! Of-of course…" Miranda tried to sound unaffected as blood pounded in her ears.
"So the eighteen messages I have from Nigel and Emily are simply inquiries as to where the best sushi places are in Tel Aviv?"
Miranda scowled, and the look on her face in conjunction with the arms crossed over her neat baby bump was enough to melt Andrea all over again in the face of such, well there really was no other word for it, 'cuteness'.
"Traitors," the older woman muttered, before forgetting any thoughts of revenge or retribution as the brunette's hands rubbed soothingly across the bulge at her waist.
"Donatella had her hands on my belly for almost the entire time we were at lunch last Thursday. Thank God we were sitting in the back of the restaurant or tomorrow's headlines would read 'Ice Queen gets groped by Deranged Designer'.
Andy laughed, wrapping her arms around the other woman once more before pecking her sweetly on the nose, "Poor Miranda."
"You know very well the only person I can stand to have touch me for extended periods of time is you. Even the doctor's visits are torture."
"Mmm, and that rule goes both ways. Me and the girls are the only ones who get to touch you." Andy's hands moved downwards from Miranda's waist and absentmindedly started rubbing firm circles on the editor's lower back, working out the knots and causing said editor's legs to nearly give out at the sharp ache that faded into even sharper relief.
"Don't laugh, I haven't had a decent night's sleep since you left."
"Does that mean I should take you to bed?" Andy's smile was wicked and Miranda's heart beat a violent thrumming tattoo against her ribcage that echoed in the wet heat pooling between her legs as she was pressed against the younger woman's body and the closet door.
"Please," she whispered.
"Mm, I think that's exactly what I'll do," Andy's touch turned from tender to teasing and her hands slid to cup Miranda's rear and bring their hips together as best they could
"Please, please, please," Miranda's soft cries became rhythmic as they coupled with her body's rocking motion as she moved against Andrea, not caring any more about appearances or power plays or who needed who more. All she knew was her need for the younger woman. A single tear escaped her eye as she pulled breath back into her lungs.
Andy looked down at the flushed and slightly embarrassed looking woman slowly coming back to herself in her arms and she bent her head once more to steal her breath away with a long kiss that left the older woman even weaker in the knees than before and breathless to the point of seeing stars as she gasped in great mouthfuls of air when their lips finally parted.
"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck." Andy's mind stumbled over itself as she took in the figure standing across the room from her the next morning. She thought they had done enough of that the night before, even after their first hurried but nonetheless passionate and real coupling upon Andrea's return - and the physical reminders and soreness in that area backed up her claim, but as Andy stared past a rapidly becoming exasperated Serena who was trying to apply the finishing touches to the brunette's makeup, Andy decided they most definitely had not done enough the night before - at least if her current libido and level of need were anything to go by. The two women were preparing to shoot the interior images for the Runway article that would provide an 'inside look' at their engagement and hopefully serve to quieten some of the rumors stirred up by the trial, and to a lesser degree, Irv.
Andy's eyes remained glued to the editor's body, which was currently enrobed in some sinfully cut, sensually draped periwinkle dream of fabric that may have covered the curves in question but did nothing to hide them.
Emily rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers in front of the journalist's nose. "Oi, Rover, stop drooling or you'll ruin all the work my darling's put into making you presentable to actually appear in Runway."
Andy reluctantly tore her gaze away from the editor and looked at Emily plaintively. "Would you look at her? I'm going to marry that. Her. Miranda. Goddamn, how did I ever manage that?"
"That would be the million dollar question all of us are asking ourselves." Emily responded, earning her a gentle tap from her Brazilian lover's makeup brush.
"Be nice, I think it's romantic she cannot keep her eyes off of her - certainly you have had the same problem with the same woman, no?."
"Oh, shut up Serena,"Emily blushed as red as her hair and the other woman laughed.
"My God, have you looked at her?" Andy's gaze was once more all over the editor and she slid off the high stool and stalked over to where Miranda was speaking with Nigel about the overhead lighting and carefully, so as not to disturb the older woman's immaculately coiffed hair, took her face in her hands and brazenly kissed her for longer than was potentially appropriate for an office setting. Breaking off breathlessly, Andy shook her head lightly, fixing a faint smear of lipstick with her thumb and murmuring incredulously, "I'm going to marry the hell out of you."
Everyone in the office held their breath at the unexpected scene, unsure of the publishing titan's reaction and mouths dropped afresh as Miranda Priestly threw back her head and laughed in a clear tone before pulling Andrea's head towards her until their lips were just touching. "You better," she whispered against plump red lips before joining them once again on her own terms.
Once people's attentions had been diverted elsewhere, Miranda took Andy by the hand and led her into her office, causing several crew workers setting up lights to abandon their tasks and scatter. "Now what was that all about?" Miranda queried, slightly bemused as she tried to direct Andrea's gaze to her own that kept wandering over her body. "Jesus, Miranda, do you have any idea just how fucking sexy you look right now? Fuck. I mean damn, I can't even. Goddamn, Miranda." Miranda's laugh rung out once again. "I believe I'll take that as a compliment. Remind me to thank Nigel for choosing this piece if this is the kind of reaction it elicits."
"Nigel? Nigel picked this out? Dammit, I'll kill him!" Andy was so turned on she could hardly see straight and was almost angry as she stared at the woman in front of her that she knew she couldn't have at that moment. "I have him to blame for this? And we're stuck here for another three hours? Dammit, Miranda, isn't there a closet somewhere. What about THE Closet?"
Andy's hands settled around Miranda's waist and slid down to the fronts of her thighs where the older woman caught them up and brought them to her lips before they wandered further. "I'm afraid not, my darling. It really wouldn't do to have the editor-in-chief caught in a pre-marital office romp."
Andy whimpered lightly and Miranda chuckled, utterly amazed at the devotion of the younger woman. "I promise darling, after the trial is over tomorrow and the girls don't need us like they will tonight, we can take all the time we need for each other."
"That's impossible," Andy breathed, her fingers trailing reverently over the delicate arch of collarbone, revelling in the softness of skin and warmth of the curves she molded her body against. "There's never going to be enough time in the world for me to love you like I want to. Like you deserve to be. Oh God, it will never be enough, Miranda."
The editor could say nothing but deliver a final, sweet kiss as her own breath was taken away by the heartfelt declaration.
Pulling away from the younger woman seated on the desk, Miranda readjusted the folds of her dress and swept back her hair until she was once more the picture of perfection. "Come now darling, this shoot was your idea after all."
"I must be a masochist," Andy moaned as she followed the older woman towards the door, not without a long suffering glance at the ass swaying enticingly in front of her.
"Now that, people would believe if it were printed in the article," Miranda grinned, "marrying the dragon as such - the ultimate act of sado-masochism."
"Oh, if only they knew."
Both women emerged from Miranda's office looking composed and physically flawless, but Andy moved up behind Nigel as they watched Miranda's individual shots be taken. "You are sooo going to pay for this," she growled in a low tone, feeling certain muscles clench involuntarily as she watched the editorial icon turn it 'on' and work the camera, staring into the lens with an intensity Andy recognized was usually reserved for when they were both very alone, and very naked.
"She looks good, doesn't she?" Nigel grinned, chuckling at his young friend's obvious discomfort. "Come now, Six, surely you should be used to this by now. You've seen Miranda when she's done a photo spread before."
"Yeah, but not while I've ever had the option of doing something about it." Andy crossed her arms and blew back her bangs. "Everyone who sees this is going to want her, would kill to have her."
"Ah, but Six," Nigel shook his head and tapped her nose with his pencil, "You can only pity them, because only one girl in a million gets to."
As she had expected, Miranda tried to escape the second half of the days plans for the shoot with the excuse of work. Once the office-shot proofs were deemed acceptable, Miranda attempted to convince the younger woman that there was simply too much to do at the office and that they would have to reschedule the private family photo session.
"Until when? When you're 8 cm dilated?" Andy threw up her hands exasperatedly before taking Miranda's in her own. "You said yourself, there's not that much time left until they're going to be here."
"Precisely," Miranda countered. "So I don't see why you won't acquiesce to my wishes that we wait."
"You know the answer to that, Miranda. We went over this, you agreed! These babies deserve to know how much they were loved before we ever held them in our arms. Think of all we, of all you, have been through already and they're still only in your belly. They're already a part of our family...We are a family already, aren't we?" Brown eyes bored into blue which closed in defeat before opening once more, softened.
"Yes, yes of course." Miranda sighed and waved a hand. "Send them ahead to the townhouse then and we'll follow after I tie up a few loose ends here. Carmen knows to let them in."
Andy moved in for a kiss but Miranda had already turned away to give out more instructions as the crew pared down and prepared to move locations. The younger woman sighed and let her head fall back against her shoulders, cracking her neck with a sigh. It was going to be the coup of a lifetime if she managed to get Miranda to relax enough for the shoot to be a success and they were already starting off on a rocky note. She couldn't even use the promise of sex or alcohol to soften the editor. She could only hope the presence of the girls for the last part of the shoot would be enough to ease the tension that was so palpable and visible in the woman's frame.
One saving grace was that the amount of people present for the shoot would be drastically reduced given that the pictures being taken were meant for private consumption and wouldn't be appearing in a nearly million dollar commercial spread. This meant that only Patrick and one or two crew members would be present at the townhouse in addition to Serena, who although wasn't strictly necessary, had agreed to do the girls' hair and makeup much to their delight and Miranda's resignation at the thought of her 'babies' looking so grown up.
In actuality, the photo shoot proved to be a blessing in disguise as it distracted the girls from thinking about the trial and their role in it the following day until much later in the evening when they sought out the two women less than an hour after being tucked into bed.
"Darlings, what are you doing out of bed? You know we have to be up very early in the morning."
"What if we mess up? Alex said the man might try and trick us with the way he asks questions."
"Yeah, we don't want to get you in trouble and say the wrong thing! Stephen could get away with it and it would be all our fault!"
Small voices got louder and more upset until Miranda had to raise her voice to be heard, although she softened her words as the two little bodies burrowed between the two women under the covers.
"Caroline. Cassidy. I want you to listen to me very closely," Miranda turned each girl's face in turn to face hers so that blue eyes met blue. "No matter what happens tomorrow, and no matter what the outcome is of this trial, you have already made me more proud than I can say. Not only did you know enough to get help the night of the acc-the assault," Miranda narrowly avoided calling it an accident, trying to whitewash it for the girls. But it wasn't an accident, they needed to know that. It was a malicious, intended act deliberately carried out by a man whom Miranda had once trusted with her children - and that thought caused a fresh wave of rage to rise up in her throat as she stared into the sweet faces of her babies who were paying the price for her mistakes.
"The assault," she continued, "You have also dealt with the situation with a maturity no one would expect from someone of your years. All coaching aside, your only job tomorrow is to tell the truth to the very best of your ability and your memory, and that is what is going to make us proud of you, not a story or an exaggeration that you think might win the case. You needn't worry about anything else. Not Stephen, not his lawyer, not the press or even Ms. Cabot to an extent. You simply tell the judge what you know to be true. Do you understand what I'm saying, Bobbsey's?"
"Yes mommy," the girls spoke in tandem in a moment of twin-speak.
"Andy are you and mommy gonna be there the whole time?"
"Yes baby, we're going to be right there, sitting in the very front row. So if you get scared or nervous, you just look at us, okay? Come on, let's get you back into bed. Kiss your mom g'night & get those rears in gear because I KNOW you won't be my little sunshines at 6 am."
The girls and Miranda smiled at this, but there was a set to Miranda's mouth that Andy didn't like but couldn't question with the girls in the room.
Miranda lay back against the headboard, trying to control her breathing and running her hands over the bump in an attempt to keep her blood pressure from indubitably rising as it was in the face of her daughters' distress. She could feel the blood rushing through her ears now and she grudgingly admitted to herself that it was likely a wise idea to find the medication Dr. Jansen had prescribed for occasions like this.
But nowhere on the bathroom counter or bedside table could she find the goddamn, blasted tablets and she had been hoping to keep Andrea from seeing her taking them.
"Andrea, where on God's earth are those tablets?" Miranda exploded upon the younger woman's return.
"Oh-" Andy sat up from the bed and disappeared down the stairs, returning after a moment with the bottle of pills in hand. "I put them in my purse so that I didn't forget them to have on hand in court tomorrow. She was about to ask Miranda if she would like some water when the older woman snatched them out of her hand and disappeared into the bathroom.
Shaking several tablets into her hand, Miranda downed the pills, grimacing at the aftertaste before fumbling for the counter as the room greyed and spun. Sitting down on the closed toilet seat with an inelegant thump, Miranda rested her head in her hands as she waited for the medication to start working and the room to still. Barefaced and hair unstyled, Miranda looked up to find her reflection staring back at her in the mirror. God, if the press or anyone at Runway could see her now. To see this Ice Queen like this was a picture worth a million dollars. Old and worn and playing at youth in such a way that it not only was endangering herself but also cursing the two lives she carried underneath her heart, not to mention the people who were foolish enough to stand by her. She felt so guilty whenever she was in their presence. Guilt - imagine that, the Dragon Lady can still feel guilt," she berated herself mentally. But like it or not, the fact remained that Miranda Priestly could feel her stomach cramp uncomfortably every time or she saw emails from Emily to Andrea at two in the morning, or Roy help her out of the car and Nigel working until one or two, occasionally with the help of Serena, to cover the work she was unable to do or restricted from doing. And Andrea, whose constant love and support was absolute and unwavering. She couldn't let her down, she couldn't fail at this. She refused to hurt the young woman that way. God knows it would destroy her should she fail to carry these babies to term, but she would also never forgive herself for the pain it would cause Andrea. Even if the younger woman denied it, Miranda also doubted that Andrea would ever forgive her for taking away her chance of a family.
Andy sighed and got back into bed. She had no idea if Miranda was mad at her, or simply lashing out from being scared or worried about the trial. An hour later, sleep still eluding her, Andy propped herself up on one elbow and watched the older woman sleep, her breathing that much deeper due to the effects of the pills. She ran her lips along the pale jawline and snuggled in more securely to the warm, vital body that carried her hopes and dreams before finally succumbing to a deep sleep herself.