(no subject)
Title: Birthday
Fandom: The Devil Wears Prada
Pairing: Sachston (ship name copyright me, obv)
Summary: There was no way Emily was planning some kind of birthday surprise for her.
Author's Note: happy birthday bluntsbitch! I almost didn't make the deadline but I did it. I'm sorry this is not at all great but I HAVE been promising you Sachston fic for almost a year, I think, if not longer. So here's my first attempt.
It wasn't really the pan dropping that woke her up, it was the string of profanities that followed. It was the tone she rarely heard but knew all too well, the unmistakable sound of Emily failing. At what, she wasn't sure, and she lay still for a moment, staring at the ceiling and listening out for a sign that she shouldn't investigate. She heard a heavy sigh before their doorbell buzzed. It was 8:30am, according to the clock on the night stand, and as she allowed curiosity to gnaw away at her, she strained to hear who could possibly be visiting at this time on a Saturday.
Nigel. She heard him tell Emily to sit down and calm down. (She considered that he was probably about to say “sit down and shut up” but one look from Emily could make anybody think twice about that move.) She listened to Emily babble and complain and sigh and she was sure she could basically hear Nigel roll his eyes; she heard their coffee machine and she heard Emily protest after being told she was staying on the sofa and being assigned a new task. She heard the light bulb above her own head when she realised the date.
There was no way Emily was planning some kind of birthday surprise for her. Not Emily. Not her Emily who'd told her on more than one occasion that birthdays were a waste of time and that birthday cake was the number one cause of fat children and even fatter adults. Not the same Emily who'd refused to retain the birthday of anybody other than Miranda's family and her own mother. It wasn't possible that Emily was planning anything. Was it?
Yet she heard Nigel say something needed to stay in the oven for another 15 minutes and he'd “prepare the embellishment.” She heard tape being ripped and she could hear Emily getting flustered. She heard Nigel tell her to relax and if it was later in the day, she's sure she would've heard wine being poured.
So she decided to test the waters a little. She wasn't going to ruin anything. No, if this was some kind of surprise (and she still wasn't entirely convinced), she had no intentions of waltzing in to the living room and ruining that. But maybe she would let them know she was awake. A faked coughing fit was cliché and obvious and the writer in her was ashamed she couldn't think of anything more creative, but it did the trick. Moments later, a glass of water was placed in her hand and a kiss planted softly on her forehead.
“Morning. I wasn't expecting you to be awake so early.”
“It's 9am, it's not that early. Did I hear somebody else come in earlier or did I imagine that?”
“Nigel's here. Do you want to sleep a little longer? Or take a shower or something?” She studied Emily's face, taking in the slight panic in her eyes.
“I thought I might. Why is Nigel here?”
“He's just running an idea past me. Nothing big. Go shower.”
Liar. Her suspicions had been right, then. Emily was planning a surprise. She couldn't decide if she was elated or confused. But she did as she was told. She showered, she pondered and when she was done she went back to the room, assuming Emily was beyond relieved they had an en-suite and there would be no need for her to leave the bedroom. She made sure to close the doors with a little force, announcing the end of her shower. Sure as anything, the bedroom door opened just seconds later and Emily strolled in.
“More awake now?”
“Definitely. I'll be even better when I get my coffee.”
“Good. Just... dry off and get dressed and I suppose I'll have coffee waiting for you.”
“You seem weird.”
“Don't be ridiculous. Get dressed.” Emily stared at her for just a moment before lightly kissing her shoulder. “Don't be too long.”
And with that, she was out the door and there was scurrying and swearing and urgent whispering and she decided on elated. She was excited, definitely. She was happy. She was moved, really. Touched. And as she pulled on her jeans she heard Emily shout her name and a match swipe and she walked out of the room into complete darkness, making her way to the kitchen.
And maybe she'd predicted it, but she wasn't faking her surprise when she saw the cake on the counter, or when Emily and Nigel started singing. She really was genuinely surprised to see her parents join in via Skype. She wasn't faking the tears that started or the smile that spread across her face when she got closer and saw the 'Happy Birthday, Andy!' iced on the cake. The only part that didn't surprise her was the way Emily pulled her close, kissed her like she'd done a thousand times before and whispered, “I still think birthdays are for six year olds.”