Passengers Part 1
Title: Passengers
Author: Vendetta17 aka crASHed
Fandom: Devil Wears Prada
Pairing: Miranda/Andy
Category: Romance
Rating: This chapter PG-13, rest will be MA
Status: WIP (Two chapters overall)
Beta: The lovely and talented ragelikeafire. Thank you for all your help and input!!
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Oh, I stole that disclaimer form the J7 Faction instructions…hope no one minds…
The story is a response to the IDF challenge at the Janeway/Seven Faction that requested a story based on a title of a Anne Hathaway movie. I chose the movie Passengers. We were supposed to get inspired by the title alone, not the actual movie. No problem here, since I have never seen the movie. In fact, I don't even know what it is about.
The events in this story take place a year after Andy quit Runway in Paris.
Passengers
Part 1
Miranda pressed her forefinger and thumb against the bridge of her nose. What was supposed to be an uneventful trip to Aix-en-Provence had quickly-and quite unexpectedly-turned into a nightmare of epic proportions. While Miranda did neither approve nor tend to indulge in over-dramatization, she currently contemplated allowing an exception to this rule.
During the most recent Paris fashion week, Miranda had come across a few designs from an unknown designer who lived in Aix-en-Provence. The designs were created by the niece of Monsiour Martin, who himself was a semi-popular designer at the Paris fashion show. Martin had decided to introduce some of his niece’s designs during one of his showcases. Miranda had been entranced from the moment she had laid eyes on the delicate and unusual designs, which stood out among Martin’s more mediocre designs. Immediately, Miranda had sent Emily to inquire about their origin and she had come back with the desired information regarding Miss Charlotte Placide, who not only appeared to be a brilliant, young talent, but apparently she also suffered from acute Agoraphobia, and would be unable to meet with Miranda in Paris. Since she knew talent and great potential when she saw it, Miranda had refused to leave France without meeting Miss Placide. To cut a long story short, Emily had been forced to book Miranda a train to Aix-en-Provence, due to the fact that all plane flights were booked solid for the next week and Miranda needed to get to New York before then, after all she did have a magazine to run.
While riding the train was an inconvenience, Miranda was willing to endure it in the name of discovering and nurturing a new fashion designer. However, what she had not expected and what she was totally unwilling to endure was the fact that she was forced to share her compartment with another passenger and not just any passenger at that.
Due to some unimportant festival in Aix-en-Provence, which was also the reason that all the flights were booked, Emily had only been able to book a ticket that came along with a shared compartment. This situation alone had aggravated Miranda to no end but she decided, in a moment of graciousness, only to purse her lips in displeasure. Emily had been walking the edge of sanity as it was, and the last thing Miranda needed on their extended trip was to provoke a total breakdown in the girl. Still, having to share a compartment with a stranger, while dreadful, was not unmanageable. But, having to sit across from a peacefully sleeping Andréa Sachs on the other hand, was a disaster of whole different proportions.
Miranda was surprised that Emily’s squeak of sheer terror had not woken the girl upon opening the door to the compartment. Miranda, who was much more adapt at masking her feelings, covered both her shock and her thundering heart with a raised eyebrow and pursed lips.
Emily immediately launched into a rant, apologizing and then, upon seeing Miranda’s blazing glare, had turned and left, mumbling something about searching for a different compartment for her boss. Miranda had sighed and sat down across the slumbering form of her ex-assistant. How ironic that they would meet here, in France of all places. On the anniversary of their last meeting.
Sitting down, Miranda sighed, shaking her head incredulously. The moments passed in silence and she found that she couldn’t take her eyes off Andréa. What was she doing here? Miranda wondered, still hardly able to believe her current circumstance. A part of Miranda still smarted over Andréa’s abandonment a year ago. Yet, a much deeper part of the fashion editor had missed the young woman, more than she would ever admit to anyone. Nevertheless, Miranda knew that Andréa would wake-up eventually and when she did the peaceful silence would turn to awkward and panicked rambling at the realization of finding herself in Miranda’s presence. She’ll just leave again, running away into the night like she does best, her mind supplied morosely.
Pinching the bridge of her nose again, Miranda looked at her watch, they had about five hours left on the train. Maybe Andréa would sleep through the entire trip? Miranda almost snorted at that thought. Besides, she wasn’t even sure which scenario swould prefer. While she was not looking forward to a confrontation with Andréa, she longed to interact with the willful young woman again. Maybe they could clear the air? She thought. Yes, and maybe you will wear flannel to the next charity ball, her mind snorted. Still, one could always hope.
***
Andy was exhausted. She felt as if she had just fallen asleep when a shrill whistle of the old train jarred her awake. Her mouth felt cotton dry and her vision was blurred when she slowly started to blink her eyes, trying to gather her bearings. She had not wanted to go to France in the first place, not during the anniversary of “that day” in Paris a year ago. Yet, her uncle had demanded it. He had insisted that she come to his estate in Aix-en-Provence, there was a family emergency and he needed Andy’s help. Never mind that Jean never clarified what said emergency was nor did he offer Andy any further explanations. All she had was a phone call and then she received an email confirming her flight to Paris for the next day. Andy loved her uncle Jean and felt obligated to heed his call. Still, she just had wished that it wasn’t all happening this week, of all weeks. Andy had consoled herself with the notion that she would only stay in Paris for a few hours and then take the train to Aix-en-Provence. The probability of running into her had to be a trillion-to-one, and she had heaved a sigh of relief when she had settled into her train compartment without incidence. It wasn’t long before the jet lag got the better of her and she was sleeping like a baby.
Once Andy’s vision cleared she wished it hadn’t. Either she was hallucinating or some omnipotent being of the universe really didn’t like her. Alternatively, was she still sleeping? Andy quickly pinched herself and shook her head. Pain, alas, no dream. Sitting up into a more upright position, Andy nervously rubbed her suddenly clammy hands against her True Religion jeans. Yes, Runway’s influence had not left her all together. Try not at all, her mind suggested unhelpfully.
“Miranda?” Andy’s voice croaked, still trying to figure out what the other woman was doing in her train compartment
Miranda raised her eyebrows, obviously displeased by something Andy had done, or hadn’t done, for that matter.
“Deductive skills were never really your foray, Andréa,” Miranda sniffed.
Andy cringed. “Of course it is you, Miranda. I just, well, you weren’t there earlier, and then I slept and now you are here and I don’t…” Andy stopped her ramblings while exhaling forcefully, trying to calm her racing heart. “What are you doing here?”
Miranda looked out of the window, seemingly ignoring Andy’s question.
After a short moment Andy mumbled,
“I thought that the ‘you never ask Miranda anything’ rule applied only to Runway employees.”
Miranda turned to look at Andy who squirmed a little under the other woman’s intense scrutiny.
“I am on my way to meet with a promising new designer,” Miranda finally stated calmly. “What brings you back to Europe, Andréa? Are you still working for that rag?”
Andy’s lack of sleep combined with this impossible meeting and her realization that she had even missed Miranda’s sarcastic barbs left her with two possible reactions, to laugh or to cry. Andy chose to laugh at that. “Yes, I still work at the Mirror. Thank you for the job reference, it was very…erm kind of you. Even though, I am not sure people usually offer a thank you after being called someone’s greatest disappointment.” Now it was Andy’s turn to look out of the window. “I am visiting family in Aix-en-Province,” Andy finished, still gazing at the passing scenery.
“I didn’t know you had family in France.” Miranda inquired, her interest peaked.
“My mother’s brother and his niece, who for all intents and purposes, is his daughter. Her parents died when she was a baby and he practically raised her on his own.” Andy looked into the surprised and intrigued gaze of her former employer. Not like you know anything of me really, Andy thought sourly.
“I see,” Miranda whispered pensively.
For a while, both Andy and Miranda remained quiet, lost in their silent contemplations.
“I’m sorry,” Andy blurted out all of a sudden.
“Whatever for?” Miranda’s expression was unreadable.
“You know, Paris, last year.” Andy stumbled on.
Miranda only pursed her lips.
“I mean, I needed to quit Runway, but the way I left was unprofessional and childish. I apologize. I’ve been meaning to do that for a while, but never thought I’d get the chance.”
“You know Andréa, there is an invention called the telephone, and if that is too daring, there is still the US Post Office or even this new-fangled thing they call email. If commenting on your lack of common sense had been that important to you, I am sure you would have found a way of accomplishing this task.”
Andy sighed, she had known that Miranda wouldn’t make this easy.
“You’re right, but to be honest, the notion of contacting you was a little intimidating. Also, I didn’t think you cared to hear from me and would likely ignore any type of communication from me. I thought apologizing in person would be best, but I didn’t really expect to get the opportunity to talk to you face to face again.”
Miranda remained silent, just looking at Andy as if she had never seen her before today.
***
Miranda could hardly believe the nerve of the girl. Andréa had to be one of the most infuriating people Miranda had ever met. Had to quit Runway, please! Her mind seemed stuck on that line. Sure, Andréa had to leave Runway, abandon her responsibilities out of what? Some misguided sense of morals? That’s why she had to leave me? She spat internally as her mind grew more agitated with every thought.
“And here was I with the illusion that you were so in tune with my needs,” Miranda snarled.
Andréa blushed crimson red, which piqued Miranda’s interest considerably.
“How are you faring at that rag anyway?” Miranda huffed. “Is the moral there more up to your standards?” Miranda had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Why was she not outright asking Andréa to explain herself? Maybe it was because she did not want to give the impression that she cared, at least not yet. First, she would need to establish Andréa’s attitude toward working through their past and the possibility of spending more time with Miranda “I enjoy writing, nevertheless, journalism is different than I expected.” Andréa stared contemplatively out of the window. “The funny thing is, while working at Runway I had all these notions and ideas about how my life would be once I became a journalist, what my work would look like, you know? Then, I have the job I wanted and from day to day, I found myself burying one illusion after the next. That’s what my notions were, illusions. Did you know that, Miranda?” With that, Andréa turned to look directly into Miranda’s azure gaze.
Miranda, leaned back further into her seat and closed her eyes for a few seconds, feeling Andréa’s mocha colored eyes threatening to swallow her whole.
“Yes, Andréa,” Miranda whispered. “Losing your illusions is hard. I wish it hadn’t happened to you so soon.”
A small smile started to grace Andréa’s features as Miranda’s words registered. “Thank you, Miranda.”
Miranda nodded slightly, though she was lost at how to continue and suddenly wished she’d never seen Charlotte Placide’s designs, that way, she would not have to face Andréa Sachs and the conundrum this maddening girl had brought to her life. Miranda was not a fearful person and when it came to her professional life, she had very little doubts as to which paths would lead her to her desired success. When it came to her private life though, the opposite appeared to be the case. She often thought she was following the right path, choosing the right companions and friends. Yet, time and time again, she was proven wrong. Added to this dilemma came her abhorrence for small talk or any kind of inefficient behavior. This made the beginnings of any relationship much harder. Yet, Miranda was so comfortable and at ease with her work persona, that her private face sometimes felt like an ill-fitted mask. However, if she had learned one thing from her past relationships, it was that taking her public persona into a private liaison was a recipe for disaster, every time. She did not want a debacle with Andréa. At least, not a deterioration of the disaster that was currently the basis of their relationship.
“Uh, do you want to talk about Paris, clear the air, so to speak?” Andréa asked shyly.
Miranda suppressed a laugh at hearing Andréa voice her earlier thought. She nodded slowly, while deciding swiftly, and with a firmness that astounded her, to hold onto this second chance.
“Yes, that’d be nice,” Miranda smiled at Andréa’s wide-eyed expression of surprise. “Well, okay, uh, do you want to start or shall I?” Andréa’s voice shook a little.
“I am assuming that you either didn’t think this offer through or you did not expect me to agree to your suggestion,” Miranda teasing at Andréa’s flustered state rang clearly in her voice.
“No, I mean, yes.” Andréa laughed nervously and shook her head. “I have prepared and revised this speech a million times, so, in a way, I am prepared. However, thinking what you will say and then finding yourself thrust, quite unexpectedly, in the situation where you actually have to voice those thoughts are two completely separate entities. But you’re right though, I didn’t expect you to agree to my suggestion.” Andréa smiled at Miranda.
“A million times, Andréa?”
“Yes, at least it felt like a million times.” Andy sighed wistfully. “Considering the amount of thought you have put forward, I believe you should start,” Miranda nodded at Andréa.
“Yes, alright. Let’s see. Paris. You know, I truly intended to finish my year at Runway. I mean, yes, working for Runway resulted in my family and friends complaining a lot. I had changed, they said, I no longer had time to be at their beck and call.” Andréa stopped to look once more out of the window while gathering her thoughts.
“Instead you were at my beck and call,” Miranda voiced tonelessly.
“Yes, I was.” Andréa focused her attention once more on Miranda. “But I could have quit before, when things were awful, when I felt like the worlds biggest failure. Back, when you used to make me cry,”
Miranda looked down, intently inspecting her perfectly manicured hands at these words. “I liked my job, I still like solving problems and you did challenge me. I knew I would not remain an assistant forever, so being at your beck and call truly did not bother me. As for the changes I went through? Well, everybody changes, and I did learn a lot from the lessons you taught me. I think you helped me to become a better journalist, a better professional. So, to me, any changes I went through were not necessarily bad, even though my family and friends thought differently.”
“If everything was so great, why did you leave then?” Miranda attempted to keep the hurt out of her voice, but she had the feeling that Andréa, whose job once depended on being totally in tune with Miranda and her moods, was not fooled. She appeared to be slightly surprised though.
“Do you want the rehearsed version or the truth?” Andréa asked after a moment of hesitation.
“You should know by now that I always want the truth, Andréa,” Miranda braced herself. Not completely sure if she made the right choice. Yes, she had wanted to grasp this second chance firmly and she admitted, at least to herself, that she wanted Andréa’s presence in her life. Yet, she was aware that this discussion could end everything before it has ever begun. This was all happening so fast, Miranda felt her world spinning as she almost breathlessly waited to hear Andréa’s truth.
***
How did I get here? Andy could hardly believe this was happening. Yes, she had imagined apologizing to Miranda, in a flight of fancy she even imagined to confessing the true reason for her departure. Never did she consider that these thoughts would one day become reality. Yet, here she was, about to lay it all out. And that with almost four hours of train ride left, in the same compartment, mind you. Her mind complained. Did she really want to tell Miranda the truth? This could not just burn her, it could incinerate her, and her dreams along with it. Well, you already offered the truth, her mind sighed resigned.
“I got lost. I know, I made it look as if I was offended by what you did to Nigel and while it was painful to watch Nigel having his dreams crushed, I did understand why you did that. However, it was easier to leave on some supposed higher moral ground than face the truth. I had just come to realize it myself, you know. I mean, you are a challenge to work for, demanding, stubborn and less than friendly. Yet, I was devoted.”
“I never realized Runway or fashion, for that matter, had made such an impression on you,” Miranda huffed, looking less than thrilled with Andy’s little speech so far.
“Neither one did, to be honest. Don’t get me wrong, I learned a lot about fashion and I have much more appreciation for your world than ever before, but neither Runway nor fashion ever had any hold on me,” Andy smiled sadly.
“But you just said you were devoted,” Miranda stated puzzled.
“Yes, Miranda. I did say that. But I never said devoted to what, or better, to whom.” Andy swallowed convulsively. She was really going to do this. “You see, in Paris, after the Christian Thompson debacle,”
Miranda frowned at the mention of that man, which re-ignited a tiny ray of hope inside of Andy.
“It suddenly occurred to me that I was totally overworked, relatively underpaid and moreover, that I had no private life whatsoever. Nate, my ex-boyfriend, had left me prior to leaving for Paris and do you know what? I didn’t even mind. I was on the outs with my friends and hadn’t seen my family since the time I started working for you. That’s when it occurred to me, I should have given you my two weeks notice a long time ago. But then, I questioned myself, why hadn’t I done that? In fact, why had that thought never even crossed my mind?” Andy saw the pictures of Paris from the prior year floating in front of her eyes. Distracted, she heard Miranda’s words as a retrospect echo, which made her stare at Miranda, amazed to see the pain that appeared to be coming off the other woman in waves.
“Pray tell, Andréa, why did you not leave Runway before Paris? If it was all so terrible why didn’t you just run off the week after I hired you?”
Andy supposed Miranda’s voice was aimed at cutting, but she only sounded hurt, and confused. Andy gazed into Miranda’s cobalt eyes and wondered why people referred to her as the Ice Queen. There was nothing cold about Miranda in that moment. The heat blazing in Miranda’s gaze threatened to turn Andy into a pitiful mound of ashes.
“You don’t get it, do you?” Andréa started softly, never breaking eye contact with the beautiful fashion editor. “My devotion was to you, not Runway. I never quit before Paris because once I left, I would no longer get to see you, I would no longer get to be in your presence. All your demands and all the insults, they were nothing, compared to the thought of no longer being close to you. I realized all of this in Paris, that night, first with you in that damn bathrobe, and then when I was with that arrogant, smug Christian. I understood it, all of a sudden. As I said, I didn’t quit earlier because I couldn’t bear to be away from you. But with that understanding came an even bigger realization. I had to quit in Paris because I had realized that I would never be truly close to you. You were my employer and I was your assistant. I was so close, but I was also so far away, I might as well have been on Mars, for I could never have reached you. Once I realized that, I couldn’t stay. You see, there finally was something that was worse than being away from you. Being by your side, while understanding my feelings and knowing that all we were was all we ever could be. I just couldn’t stay.” Andy finally tore her eyes away from Miranda’s stunned gaze, letting her gaze drift once more through the window and across the passing scenery.
There, she had said it. Now let the dragon unleash her fire. At least she had tried. No regrets, at least that was something she’d never have to accuse herself of. She had tried.
***
Miranda could not believe her ears. She had to be hallucinating. Maybe Emily had finally lost it and drugged her most recent cup of coffee. Why else would she imagine hearing such words coming from the beautiful mouth of Andréa Sachs? Andréa had broken their eye contact; she had shattered Miranda with her words and then just turned to look out of that damned window again. Miranda realized that all this time she had been holding on to hope. Still, that did not mean that she had ever considered the possibility that Andréa could reciprocate her feelings. Sure, she had idly held one or two fantasies about such a scenario, but that was when she felt vulnerable and lonely and indulged in these notions to feel a little better. She never once believed them to be anything but the idle, silly fantasies of a foolish old woman. Yet, here she was and here was Andréa’s truth. All she had to do was make a decision on how to react to this confession. That shouldn’t be so hard, she reasoned, considering all the important decisions that usually rested on her shoulders. Yes, but those were work decisions, her mind reminded her. When had she ever made the right choice in her private life? Her twins came to mind, immediately and Miranda smiled. Yes, that definitely was the right decision. Finally gathering and sorting her thoughts, Miranda addressed Andréa.
“Andréa. Look at me, please,” Miranda leaned forward in her seat, her eyes solely focused on the beautiful face of her former assistant.
Andréa turned away from the window and briefly looked at Miranda, her doe eyes glassy and a small, a forced smile graced her delicate features.
Miranda, who had always been more a woman of action than of words, surged forward and softly pressed her lips on an incredibly stunned Andréa. Miranda closed her eyes, willing Andréa to accept and embrace her answer to the younger woman’s confession. After a few seconds of hesitation, a frozen Andréa seemed to thaw out of her reserve and returned Miranda’s kiss, her eyelids fluttering closed at the sensation of Miranda’s lips on hers.
***
Continued
Thanks for reading. I appreciate any comments.
Author: Vendetta17 aka crASHed
Fandom: Devil Wears Prada
Pairing: Miranda/Andy
Category: Romance
Rating: This chapter PG-13, rest will be MA
Status: WIP (Two chapters overall)
Beta: The lovely and talented ragelikeafire. Thank you for all your help and input!!
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Oh, I stole that disclaimer form the J7 Faction instructions…hope no one minds…
The story is a response to the IDF challenge at the Janeway/Seven Faction that requested a story based on a title of a Anne Hathaway movie. I chose the movie Passengers. We were supposed to get inspired by the title alone, not the actual movie. No problem here, since I have never seen the movie. In fact, I don't even know what it is about.
The events in this story take place a year after Andy quit Runway in Paris.
Passengers
Part 1
Miranda pressed her forefinger and thumb against the bridge of her nose. What was supposed to be an uneventful trip to Aix-en-Provence had quickly-and quite unexpectedly-turned into a nightmare of epic proportions. While Miranda did neither approve nor tend to indulge in over-dramatization, she currently contemplated allowing an exception to this rule.
During the most recent Paris fashion week, Miranda had come across a few designs from an unknown designer who lived in Aix-en-Provence. The designs were created by the niece of Monsiour Martin, who himself was a semi-popular designer at the Paris fashion show. Martin had decided to introduce some of his niece’s designs during one of his showcases. Miranda had been entranced from the moment she had laid eyes on the delicate and unusual designs, which stood out among Martin’s more mediocre designs. Immediately, Miranda had sent Emily to inquire about their origin and she had come back with the desired information regarding Miss Charlotte Placide, who not only appeared to be a brilliant, young talent, but apparently she also suffered from acute Agoraphobia, and would be unable to meet with Miranda in Paris. Since she knew talent and great potential when she saw it, Miranda had refused to leave France without meeting Miss Placide. To cut a long story short, Emily had been forced to book Miranda a train to Aix-en-Provence, due to the fact that all plane flights were booked solid for the next week and Miranda needed to get to New York before then, after all she did have a magazine to run.
While riding the train was an inconvenience, Miranda was willing to endure it in the name of discovering and nurturing a new fashion designer. However, what she had not expected and what she was totally unwilling to endure was the fact that she was forced to share her compartment with another passenger and not just any passenger at that.
Due to some unimportant festival in Aix-en-Provence, which was also the reason that all the flights were booked, Emily had only been able to book a ticket that came along with a shared compartment. This situation alone had aggravated Miranda to no end but she decided, in a moment of graciousness, only to purse her lips in displeasure. Emily had been walking the edge of sanity as it was, and the last thing Miranda needed on their extended trip was to provoke a total breakdown in the girl. Still, having to share a compartment with a stranger, while dreadful, was not unmanageable. But, having to sit across from a peacefully sleeping Andréa Sachs on the other hand, was a disaster of whole different proportions.
Miranda was surprised that Emily’s squeak of sheer terror had not woken the girl upon opening the door to the compartment. Miranda, who was much more adapt at masking her feelings, covered both her shock and her thundering heart with a raised eyebrow and pursed lips.
Emily immediately launched into a rant, apologizing and then, upon seeing Miranda’s blazing glare, had turned and left, mumbling something about searching for a different compartment for her boss. Miranda had sighed and sat down across the slumbering form of her ex-assistant. How ironic that they would meet here, in France of all places. On the anniversary of their last meeting.
Sitting down, Miranda sighed, shaking her head incredulously. The moments passed in silence and she found that she couldn’t take her eyes off Andréa. What was she doing here? Miranda wondered, still hardly able to believe her current circumstance. A part of Miranda still smarted over Andréa’s abandonment a year ago. Yet, a much deeper part of the fashion editor had missed the young woman, more than she would ever admit to anyone. Nevertheless, Miranda knew that Andréa would wake-up eventually and when she did the peaceful silence would turn to awkward and panicked rambling at the realization of finding herself in Miranda’s presence. She’ll just leave again, running away into the night like she does best, her mind supplied morosely.
Pinching the bridge of her nose again, Miranda looked at her watch, they had about five hours left on the train. Maybe Andréa would sleep through the entire trip? Miranda almost snorted at that thought. Besides, she wasn’t even sure which scenario swould prefer. While she was not looking forward to a confrontation with Andréa, she longed to interact with the willful young woman again. Maybe they could clear the air? She thought. Yes, and maybe you will wear flannel to the next charity ball, her mind snorted. Still, one could always hope.
***
Andy was exhausted. She felt as if she had just fallen asleep when a shrill whistle of the old train jarred her awake. Her mouth felt cotton dry and her vision was blurred when she slowly started to blink her eyes, trying to gather her bearings. She had not wanted to go to France in the first place, not during the anniversary of “that day” in Paris a year ago. Yet, her uncle had demanded it. He had insisted that she come to his estate in Aix-en-Provence, there was a family emergency and he needed Andy’s help. Never mind that Jean never clarified what said emergency was nor did he offer Andy any further explanations. All she had was a phone call and then she received an email confirming her flight to Paris for the next day. Andy loved her uncle Jean and felt obligated to heed his call. Still, she just had wished that it wasn’t all happening this week, of all weeks. Andy had consoled herself with the notion that she would only stay in Paris for a few hours and then take the train to Aix-en-Provence. The probability of running into her had to be a trillion-to-one, and she had heaved a sigh of relief when she had settled into her train compartment without incidence. It wasn’t long before the jet lag got the better of her and she was sleeping like a baby.
Once Andy’s vision cleared she wished it hadn’t. Either she was hallucinating or some omnipotent being of the universe really didn’t like her. Alternatively, was she still sleeping? Andy quickly pinched herself and shook her head. Pain, alas, no dream. Sitting up into a more upright position, Andy nervously rubbed her suddenly clammy hands against her True Religion jeans. Yes, Runway’s influence had not left her all together. Try not at all, her mind suggested unhelpfully.
“Miranda?” Andy’s voice croaked, still trying to figure out what the other woman was doing in her train compartment
Miranda raised her eyebrows, obviously displeased by something Andy had done, or hadn’t done, for that matter.
“Deductive skills were never really your foray, Andréa,” Miranda sniffed.
Andy cringed. “Of course it is you, Miranda. I just, well, you weren’t there earlier, and then I slept and now you are here and I don’t…” Andy stopped her ramblings while exhaling forcefully, trying to calm her racing heart. “What are you doing here?”
Miranda looked out of the window, seemingly ignoring Andy’s question.
After a short moment Andy mumbled,
“I thought that the ‘you never ask Miranda anything’ rule applied only to Runway employees.”
Miranda turned to look at Andy who squirmed a little under the other woman’s intense scrutiny.
“I am on my way to meet with a promising new designer,” Miranda finally stated calmly. “What brings you back to Europe, Andréa? Are you still working for that rag?”
Andy’s lack of sleep combined with this impossible meeting and her realization that she had even missed Miranda’s sarcastic barbs left her with two possible reactions, to laugh or to cry. Andy chose to laugh at that. “Yes, I still work at the Mirror. Thank you for the job reference, it was very…erm kind of you. Even though, I am not sure people usually offer a thank you after being called someone’s greatest disappointment.” Now it was Andy’s turn to look out of the window. “I am visiting family in Aix-en-Province,” Andy finished, still gazing at the passing scenery.
“I didn’t know you had family in France.” Miranda inquired, her interest peaked.
“My mother’s brother and his niece, who for all intents and purposes, is his daughter. Her parents died when she was a baby and he practically raised her on his own.” Andy looked into the surprised and intrigued gaze of her former employer. Not like you know anything of me really, Andy thought sourly.
“I see,” Miranda whispered pensively.
For a while, both Andy and Miranda remained quiet, lost in their silent contemplations.
“I’m sorry,” Andy blurted out all of a sudden.
“Whatever for?” Miranda’s expression was unreadable.
“You know, Paris, last year.” Andy stumbled on.
Miranda only pursed her lips.
“I mean, I needed to quit Runway, but the way I left was unprofessional and childish. I apologize. I’ve been meaning to do that for a while, but never thought I’d get the chance.”
“You know Andréa, there is an invention called the telephone, and if that is too daring, there is still the US Post Office or even this new-fangled thing they call email. If commenting on your lack of common sense had been that important to you, I am sure you would have found a way of accomplishing this task.”
Andy sighed, she had known that Miranda wouldn’t make this easy.
“You’re right, but to be honest, the notion of contacting you was a little intimidating. Also, I didn’t think you cared to hear from me and would likely ignore any type of communication from me. I thought apologizing in person would be best, but I didn’t really expect to get the opportunity to talk to you face to face again.”
Miranda remained silent, just looking at Andy as if she had never seen her before today.
***
Miranda could hardly believe the nerve of the girl. Andréa had to be one of the most infuriating people Miranda had ever met. Had to quit Runway, please! Her mind seemed stuck on that line. Sure, Andréa had to leave Runway, abandon her responsibilities out of what? Some misguided sense of morals? That’s why she had to leave me? She spat internally as her mind grew more agitated with every thought.
“And here was I with the illusion that you were so in tune with my needs,” Miranda snarled.
Andréa blushed crimson red, which piqued Miranda’s interest considerably.
“How are you faring at that rag anyway?” Miranda huffed. “Is the moral there more up to your standards?” Miranda had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Why was she not outright asking Andréa to explain herself? Maybe it was because she did not want to give the impression that she cared, at least not yet. First, she would need to establish Andréa’s attitude toward working through their past and the possibility of spending more time with Miranda “I enjoy writing, nevertheless, journalism is different than I expected.” Andréa stared contemplatively out of the window. “The funny thing is, while working at Runway I had all these notions and ideas about how my life would be once I became a journalist, what my work would look like, you know? Then, I have the job I wanted and from day to day, I found myself burying one illusion after the next. That’s what my notions were, illusions. Did you know that, Miranda?” With that, Andréa turned to look directly into Miranda’s azure gaze.
Miranda, leaned back further into her seat and closed her eyes for a few seconds, feeling Andréa’s mocha colored eyes threatening to swallow her whole.
“Yes, Andréa,” Miranda whispered. “Losing your illusions is hard. I wish it hadn’t happened to you so soon.”
A small smile started to grace Andréa’s features as Miranda’s words registered. “Thank you, Miranda.”
Miranda nodded slightly, though she was lost at how to continue and suddenly wished she’d never seen Charlotte Placide’s designs, that way, she would not have to face Andréa Sachs and the conundrum this maddening girl had brought to her life. Miranda was not a fearful person and when it came to her professional life, she had very little doubts as to which paths would lead her to her desired success. When it came to her private life though, the opposite appeared to be the case. She often thought she was following the right path, choosing the right companions and friends. Yet, time and time again, she was proven wrong. Added to this dilemma came her abhorrence for small talk or any kind of inefficient behavior. This made the beginnings of any relationship much harder. Yet, Miranda was so comfortable and at ease with her work persona, that her private face sometimes felt like an ill-fitted mask. However, if she had learned one thing from her past relationships, it was that taking her public persona into a private liaison was a recipe for disaster, every time. She did not want a debacle with Andréa. At least, not a deterioration of the disaster that was currently the basis of their relationship.
“Uh, do you want to talk about Paris, clear the air, so to speak?” Andréa asked shyly.
Miranda suppressed a laugh at hearing Andréa voice her earlier thought. She nodded slowly, while deciding swiftly, and with a firmness that astounded her, to hold onto this second chance.
“Yes, that’d be nice,” Miranda smiled at Andréa’s wide-eyed expression of surprise. “Well, okay, uh, do you want to start or shall I?” Andréa’s voice shook a little.
“I am assuming that you either didn’t think this offer through or you did not expect me to agree to your suggestion,” Miranda teasing at Andréa’s flustered state rang clearly in her voice.
“No, I mean, yes.” Andréa laughed nervously and shook her head. “I have prepared and revised this speech a million times, so, in a way, I am prepared. However, thinking what you will say and then finding yourself thrust, quite unexpectedly, in the situation where you actually have to voice those thoughts are two completely separate entities. But you’re right though, I didn’t expect you to agree to my suggestion.” Andréa smiled at Miranda.
“A million times, Andréa?”
“Yes, at least it felt like a million times.” Andy sighed wistfully. “Considering the amount of thought you have put forward, I believe you should start,” Miranda nodded at Andréa.
“Yes, alright. Let’s see. Paris. You know, I truly intended to finish my year at Runway. I mean, yes, working for Runway resulted in my family and friends complaining a lot. I had changed, they said, I no longer had time to be at their beck and call.” Andréa stopped to look once more out of the window while gathering her thoughts.
“Instead you were at my beck and call,” Miranda voiced tonelessly.
“Yes, I was.” Andréa focused her attention once more on Miranda. “But I could have quit before, when things were awful, when I felt like the worlds biggest failure. Back, when you used to make me cry,”
Miranda looked down, intently inspecting her perfectly manicured hands at these words. “I liked my job, I still like solving problems and you did challenge me. I knew I would not remain an assistant forever, so being at your beck and call truly did not bother me. As for the changes I went through? Well, everybody changes, and I did learn a lot from the lessons you taught me. I think you helped me to become a better journalist, a better professional. So, to me, any changes I went through were not necessarily bad, even though my family and friends thought differently.”
“If everything was so great, why did you leave then?” Miranda attempted to keep the hurt out of her voice, but she had the feeling that Andréa, whose job once depended on being totally in tune with Miranda and her moods, was not fooled. She appeared to be slightly surprised though.
“Do you want the rehearsed version or the truth?” Andréa asked after a moment of hesitation.
“You should know by now that I always want the truth, Andréa,” Miranda braced herself. Not completely sure if she made the right choice. Yes, she had wanted to grasp this second chance firmly and she admitted, at least to herself, that she wanted Andréa’s presence in her life. Yet, she was aware that this discussion could end everything before it has ever begun. This was all happening so fast, Miranda felt her world spinning as she almost breathlessly waited to hear Andréa’s truth.
***
How did I get here? Andy could hardly believe this was happening. Yes, she had imagined apologizing to Miranda, in a flight of fancy she even imagined to confessing the true reason for her departure. Never did she consider that these thoughts would one day become reality. Yet, here she was, about to lay it all out. And that with almost four hours of train ride left, in the same compartment, mind you. Her mind complained. Did she really want to tell Miranda the truth? This could not just burn her, it could incinerate her, and her dreams along with it. Well, you already offered the truth, her mind sighed resigned.
“I got lost. I know, I made it look as if I was offended by what you did to Nigel and while it was painful to watch Nigel having his dreams crushed, I did understand why you did that. However, it was easier to leave on some supposed higher moral ground than face the truth. I had just come to realize it myself, you know. I mean, you are a challenge to work for, demanding, stubborn and less than friendly. Yet, I was devoted.”
“I never realized Runway or fashion, for that matter, had made such an impression on you,” Miranda huffed, looking less than thrilled with Andy’s little speech so far.
“Neither one did, to be honest. Don’t get me wrong, I learned a lot about fashion and I have much more appreciation for your world than ever before, but neither Runway nor fashion ever had any hold on me,” Andy smiled sadly.
“But you just said you were devoted,” Miranda stated puzzled.
“Yes, Miranda. I did say that. But I never said devoted to what, or better, to whom.” Andy swallowed convulsively. She was really going to do this. “You see, in Paris, after the Christian Thompson debacle,”
Miranda frowned at the mention of that man, which re-ignited a tiny ray of hope inside of Andy.
“It suddenly occurred to me that I was totally overworked, relatively underpaid and moreover, that I had no private life whatsoever. Nate, my ex-boyfriend, had left me prior to leaving for Paris and do you know what? I didn’t even mind. I was on the outs with my friends and hadn’t seen my family since the time I started working for you. That’s when it occurred to me, I should have given you my two weeks notice a long time ago. But then, I questioned myself, why hadn’t I done that? In fact, why had that thought never even crossed my mind?” Andy saw the pictures of Paris from the prior year floating in front of her eyes. Distracted, she heard Miranda’s words as a retrospect echo, which made her stare at Miranda, amazed to see the pain that appeared to be coming off the other woman in waves.
“Pray tell, Andréa, why did you not leave Runway before Paris? If it was all so terrible why didn’t you just run off the week after I hired you?”
Andy supposed Miranda’s voice was aimed at cutting, but she only sounded hurt, and confused. Andy gazed into Miranda’s cobalt eyes and wondered why people referred to her as the Ice Queen. There was nothing cold about Miranda in that moment. The heat blazing in Miranda’s gaze threatened to turn Andy into a pitiful mound of ashes.
“You don’t get it, do you?” Andréa started softly, never breaking eye contact with the beautiful fashion editor. “My devotion was to you, not Runway. I never quit before Paris because once I left, I would no longer get to see you, I would no longer get to be in your presence. All your demands and all the insults, they were nothing, compared to the thought of no longer being close to you. I realized all of this in Paris, that night, first with you in that damn bathrobe, and then when I was with that arrogant, smug Christian. I understood it, all of a sudden. As I said, I didn’t quit earlier because I couldn’t bear to be away from you. But with that understanding came an even bigger realization. I had to quit in Paris because I had realized that I would never be truly close to you. You were my employer and I was your assistant. I was so close, but I was also so far away, I might as well have been on Mars, for I could never have reached you. Once I realized that, I couldn’t stay. You see, there finally was something that was worse than being away from you. Being by your side, while understanding my feelings and knowing that all we were was all we ever could be. I just couldn’t stay.” Andy finally tore her eyes away from Miranda’s stunned gaze, letting her gaze drift once more through the window and across the passing scenery.
There, she had said it. Now let the dragon unleash her fire. At least she had tried. No regrets, at least that was something she’d never have to accuse herself of. She had tried.
***
Miranda could not believe her ears. She had to be hallucinating. Maybe Emily had finally lost it and drugged her most recent cup of coffee. Why else would she imagine hearing such words coming from the beautiful mouth of Andréa Sachs? Andréa had broken their eye contact; she had shattered Miranda with her words and then just turned to look out of that damned window again. Miranda realized that all this time she had been holding on to hope. Still, that did not mean that she had ever considered the possibility that Andréa could reciprocate her feelings. Sure, she had idly held one or two fantasies about such a scenario, but that was when she felt vulnerable and lonely and indulged in these notions to feel a little better. She never once believed them to be anything but the idle, silly fantasies of a foolish old woman. Yet, here she was and here was Andréa’s truth. All she had to do was make a decision on how to react to this confession. That shouldn’t be so hard, she reasoned, considering all the important decisions that usually rested on her shoulders. Yes, but those were work decisions, her mind reminded her. When had she ever made the right choice in her private life? Her twins came to mind, immediately and Miranda smiled. Yes, that definitely was the right decision. Finally gathering and sorting her thoughts, Miranda addressed Andréa.
“Andréa. Look at me, please,” Miranda leaned forward in her seat, her eyes solely focused on the beautiful face of her former assistant.
Andréa turned away from the window and briefly looked at Miranda, her doe eyes glassy and a small, a forced smile graced her delicate features.
Miranda, who had always been more a woman of action than of words, surged forward and softly pressed her lips on an incredibly stunned Andréa. Miranda closed her eyes, willing Andréa to accept and embrace her answer to the younger woman’s confession. After a few seconds of hesitation, a frozen Andréa seemed to thaw out of her reserve and returned Miranda’s kiss, her eyelids fluttering closed at the sensation of Miranda’s lips on hers.
***
Continued
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