The Devil Wears Prada: Science of Fashion Part 10
Title: Science of Fashion (10/?)
Author: vicar_dibley
Fandom: The Devil Wears Prada
Pairing: Andy/Miranda AU
Rating: G (for now)
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from The Devil Wears Prada
Author's note: English isn't my first language, this hasn't been beta'd so forgive me. The mistakes (language wise and otherwise) are all mine. This is my first DWP fan fiction. Hope you like it:) Comments are welcome!
Summary: It’s an alternative universe, Andy is about 35 and Miranda is 50. In my story Andy is not cheery.
Science of Fashion
10
Reclining on her best friend’s couch with a wonderful glass of 21 year old whiskey Andy sighed contentedly.
“So, tomorrow is the big day?” Pauline asked with a smirk.
“More like the first day of the big week.” Andy corrected without opening her eyes.
“How is that?” Claire, Pauline’s wife wanted to know as she sat down on her lover’s armrest.
“Well”, Andy tried to explain, “it’s called Fashion Week, remember? Which means there will be fashion shows, gatherings, social events all over the week and on Friday there will be a reception for all the participants.”
“Will you be there?” Claire asked eagerly.
“Yes, Miranda made sure that I have free access to all events and I’ll be her personal guest at the reception.”
“Way to go girl!” Pauline refrained from pointing out what was plain as day where the editor was concerned because Andy wouldn’t want to hear it anyway.
“What about your lectures and seminars?”
“I made a deal with Carl. There will be some double lectures over the next few weeks. It’s good that I don’t have that many this semester.”
“Lucky you”, Pauline agreed. “Enjoy your week!”
“I think I will.” Andy smiled.
Standing in front her closet on Monday morning Andy was questioning her sanity. Why did she agree to this, again? That she didn’t especially care for fashion, didn’t mean she had no idea how to dress. Her closet was full of business suits and elegant clothes. Casual clothes were her favourite though. But what does one wear to a fashion show? She should have asked Emily. Or rather not, Emily’s choice of clothes fitted Emily perfectly but certainly wouldn’t do for her. To say Emily was daring, was an understatement. Elegant businesslike would have to do.
Cursing her body’s non-compliance to make it easy for her, Andy struggled into her clothes. Although, most of the time she had learned to come to terms with her limitations there were times she got angry. Struggling to put on her clothes was one of them.
All she had to do now was to decide how to wear her hair. In the past she had worn it shorter but ever since the scar was adorning the right side of her face, it was longer to hide it as good as possible.
Miranda did not mind, she had taken it in stride and even Emily was used to it. Strangers were another thing altogether. Andy hated their pitying looks and badly disguised nosy questions. Thinking about it, she decided for letting her hair fall free and over her cheeks. One last look in the mirror, grasping her purse with all necessary items in it and her cane and off she was.
Upon her arrival Andy spotted Emily waiting on the steps of the building obviously waiting for her because when she exited the taxi Emily all but dragged her up the steps.
“Let go of my arm, would you”, Andy was slightly annoyed with her friend.
“Sorry”, Emily apologised with a cringe, letting go of Andy’s arm as if she had been burned.
“Calm down, Em! Everything will be just fine.” Andy smiled reassuringly at her friend.
Snorting, Emily rolled her eyes, clearly not believing a single word. Looking up she squeaked when she saw Miranda already waiting for them at the top, a not amused look on her face.
“I take it you two are not for a warm welcome”, the editor welcomed them.
“You mean those fake kisses on the cheek?” Andy asked with mischief in her eyes. “Please, we are British. I don’t think you care for them much either.”
“You are right, of course, I don’t”, Miranda smirked.
“Thought so. Hey!”
“Hey, yourself.”
Miranda was about to say more when she heard her name being called by a woman Andy thought looked very much like Donatella Versace.
Rolling her eyes Miranda excused herself and left, with a fake smile plastered on her face, to greet the Italian woman.
When they were alone, Andy turned to Emily asking her friend what to expect for the next few hours.
“Let’s see, there will be two fashion shows with gatherings afterwards. You know, to meet the designers. To stroke their ego or welcome new talents.”
“And what is Miranda’s part in all of this?” Andy had not really a clue. An idea maybe but to fully understand Miranda’s role this week she wanted to know what to look for.
“Let me put it this way. Nigel once said something that sums it up perfectly I think. `Her opinion is the only one that matters.´” Emily explained to her friend.
“Meaning what?”
“Watch her face during the show, her facial expressions tell a lot about what she thinks. A pursed lip means displeasure, it makes the designers weep, a slightly inclined head signals them it’s not so bad but a barely perceptible nod is what they live for.”
“Interesting”, Andy admitted. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Now she knew what to do. Watching Miranda watching the show would be quite instructive.
“I believe I understand now.”
“Good. Let’s go!”
Miranda was already seated right in front of the catwalk. Next to her was the bald man Andy had met at her interview at Runway. When taking her own seat, Miranda turned to her introducing her to her companion.
“Andrea, please meet Nigel Kipling, my art director. I think you remember him from your interview.”
“Mr Kipling”, Andrea greeted with a nod of her head.
“Professor.” Nigel returned with a raised eyebrow, clearly not pleased with her presence.
“What the hell is she doing here?” Nigel hissed with contempt in his voice.
“Not that it is any of your business but Andrea is my guest.” Miranda said icily, effectively preventing any further questions.
Soon the first show of a young and upcoming designer started. Andy kept her eyes on the catwalk marvelling at the anorexic women walking up and down. How could they even be alive looking like that? And why did they all have to look the same? The dresses varied from nice and daring to downright horrible, at least as far as Andy was concerned. Remembering the dress Miranda had worn the first night she had met the editor Andy had to smile. That had been a dress worth looking at. It had been beautiful, gorgeous and not distracting from the woman who had worn it so gracefully. Miranda had been a vision that evening. With that thought in mind Andy turned towards the silver haired woman beside her, determined to watch her for the time being.
After the end of the show Andy had to admit that Emily had been right. Watching Miranda was very informative and more pleasurable than watching the show itself.
The second show was even more interesting, or rather Miranda’s expressions were. The new Donna Karan line brought on a plethora of new information for Andy. She learned very fast to distinguish between the nuances of Miranda’s show of displeasure or agreement. Being captured in a world of her own, Andy hadn’t realised when the show was over and she and Miranda were the only ones left.
“Andrea.” She heard Miranda’s voice.
“Yes”, focusing her eyes Andy snapped out of her trancelike state, blushing profusely at being caught.
“Andrea, what are you doing?” Miranda asked with a frown.
“What do you mean?”
“You were not watching the show.”
“No”, Andy admitted in a nearly inaudible voice.
“Why not? That’s what we are here for.” Miranda couldn’t understand what was going on.
“That’s what you are here for. I am here to understand.”
“What?”
“You.”
“Oh.” If Miranda was honest that was exactly what Andrea was here for, wasn’t she?
“Yes, well, you see... Emily said watching you watching the show would give me a better insight on what you do because your opinion is the only one that matters.”
“Did she?”
“Yes. And you know what? She was right.”
“Was she, now.” Miranda’s eyes were flickering with amusement.
“Quite so. By the way, looking at you is far more pleasurable than those skinny, unfascinating clones on stage.”
Blinking at her own words Andy was suddenly struck by her own boldness.
“Well, you know what I mean”, the biologist mumbled embarrassed.
Covering the younger woman’s hand where it lay in her lap, Miranda was flattered and touched by Andrea’s words.
“Thank you, Andrea.” The editor said in a soft voice.
Tearing her eyes from those blue depths Andy was relieved to find Emily waiting for them at the entrance. She thanked her lucky charms for her British comrade.
“We should go, Emily looks definitely stressed out about the delay.”
“That girl certainly needs to relax”, Miranda snorted.
The gathering backstage was a chaos of faces and names for Andy, for Miranda introduced her to all the important people present the first day. There was an endless stream of people wanting to bask in Miranda’s light, getting into her good graces, sucking up to the editor with even more fake smiles and insincere compliments. What followed was a luncheon with more of the same. Andy wondered how Miranda could stand it, all the false pretences. But obviously she could and she did it with grace. Remembering her grandmother’s advice Andy held her head high, let a certain amount of arrogance show on her face and everything went just smoothly. Charming the pants off those people was indeed a piece of cake, although it helped to have Miranda at her side. The editor was clearly the queen of this castle, a sight to behold. Once more Andy was glad to have accepted the invitation.
The only thing that put a mild damper on the whole experience were the whispered conversations Andy overheard when she wandered off on her own.
Envious and nasty comments about Miranda were the most apparent ones. Calling her names the usual ones.
During another back stage gathering and luncheon on the third day of the fashion week Andy took a short break from those back stabbing hypocrites. Stepping outside for some air, she took her mobile phone from her purse and dialled the number of a very good friend to ask for a very big favour. After finishing the call laced with a lot of flattering and threats Andy called a few other people to set her plan in motion. When everything was organised she returned inside for the next show. All she had to do now was wait for the evening.
Snatching Emily from a chat with her co-workers during the last gathering of the day, Andy asked for a big favour.
“Em, I need your help.”
“Okay.”
“Call Roy and ask him to wait outside. Miranda and I will be there in five minutes.” Andy said in a rush.
“Are you crazy? She is going to kill me.” Emily was frantic.
“No, she won’t. Please, Em.” Andy wasn’t above begging, if it helped to get what she wanted.
“All right. But you owe me for this, Sachs.” The British woman muttered.
“Tell him to drive us there”, Andy handed her friend a note with the address, leaving a gaping Emily behind after she had read the note.
That had been the easy part, finding Miranda and prying her away from the people that gathered around her was the difficult part. Andy found her in another room, surrounded by fellow magazine editors and publishers.
Squaring her shoulders Andy walked with determined steps towards the older woman, noting the fine lines of exhaustion in the corner of her eyes. A further indication that she was doing the right thing.
Reaching the group Andy gently cleared her throat to get their attention. Noticing how Miranda’s eyes seemed to light up when she saw her. Could it be? No, don’t be ridiculous, Sachs!
“Gentlemen, excuse me. I need to kidnap Miranda from you I’m afraid.” Andy said with a charming smile.
“Not at all.” They gave their permission.
When they had turned away from the two women, Andy took Miranda’s hand and started to drag her away gently but stopped when she felt the tug of resistance.
“Let’s go”, Andy still held on to the older woman’s hand.
“Are you out of your mind? I can’t leave.” Miranda stood her ground.
Exhaling audible at the editor’s resistance, Andy knew she had to play dirty.
“Yes you can. Do you trust me, Miranda?”
“Of course, I trust you but that is...” Miranda was stopped by Andy’s index finger, held up with her cane still in her grasp.
“Please. Humour me! It’s a surprise.”
Looking into those soulful dark brown eyes, full of warmth and gently pleading Miranda could do nothing else but consent to whatever Andrea had in mind.
“Surprise me then”, the older woman acquiesced.
Breaking into a full blown mega watt smile, Andy gently tugged on Miranda’s hand asking her to follow without letting go of her hand.
Leading them out of the building down to where Roy was already waiting with the car, Andy helped Miranda into the back seat only letting go of the older woman’s hand when she got into the car herself.
Roy closed the door, climbed behind the wheel and started the car.
“Emily told you where to go?” Andy asked to make sure.
“Yes, ma´am.”
“Good.”
The rest of the ride was made in silence, Miranda wondering what she had herself gotten into and Andy fretting if she hadn’t overstepped her boundaries. It was a very short ride and soon Roy was holding the door for Andy to get out, who in turn held out her hand to Miranda to help her out of the car.
Looking up for the first time since she got out of the car Miranda instantly recognised the building in front of them.
“Andrea, this is ridiculous.”
“Please.” Was all Andy needed for Miranda to give up her resistance.
“Very well. Lead the way!”
Holding on to Andrea’s hand Miranda let herself be led up the stairs to be welcomed by a smiling man.
“Good evening, Mrs Priestly. Welcome to the Museum of Natural History. It is a pleasure to have you here.”
“Thank you.”
“Hello, Walter”, Andy greeted the man, “is everything ready?”
“Yes, Andy. Have a nice evening!”
“Thank you, Walter. The cheque will be in the post next week.” The second sentence was only for Walter Cummings´ ears. Smiling at the prospect of another handsome donation for his museum Walter was convinced he had made the right decision. Leaving the women at the front the door of the museum he went home, already planning for some new acquisitions.
Following Andrea inside Miranda was floored by the display. In the middle of the great hall, between the large skeletons of the dinosaurs was a table set with a shining white table cloth, china, crystal glasses and candles. Artificial torches were put up all over the room, painting the room in the most beautiful display of light and shadows. A waiter was patiently waiting for them to take their seats. For the first time in her life Miranda Priestly was truly and utterly speechless.
Uncertain because of Miranda’s continued silence Andy suddenly wasn’t so proud of herself anymore. Fidgeting with a button of her jacket Andy wished Miranda would say something.
“Why?” Miranda choked around the lump in her throat.
“I thought you might enjoy a change from the past few days. And I was honestly fed up with the name calling I witnessed. So, here we are, between the real dragons, having a relaxed dinner without those snakes snapping at your ankle.”
Touched beyond words at the biologist’s thoughtfulness and wonderful gesture, Miranda simply leaned over and softly kissed Andrea’s scared cheek. She didn’t choose this side of her face on purpose, it was a natural choice and gesture. Watching Andrea blush becomingly, Miranda gently tugged on the hand she was still holding to guide to the table.
When the waiter sprang into motion Andy waved him off, holding out the chair for Miranda herself, determined to treat the older woman like she deserved to be treated.
The waiter served them a wonderfully delicious three-course dinner, accompanied with champagne. Conversation was easy and delightful. Andy could do what she had found was her favourite past time over the last few days, watching Miranda. The light of the candles danced over the editor’s face causing Andy’s breath to hitch more than once during their meal at the beauty she was allowed to look at. Miranda’s hair shone like polished Italian marble, her eyes as blue as a clear summer sky and her fair skin looked even softer if that was even possible.
Andy was startled from her contemplations when Miranda covered her hand with her own, forcing Andy to look into those enchanting eyes.
“Thank you, Andrea, this is the most wonderful thing anybody has ever done for me.”
“You are very welcome.”
Sipping the last of their champagne they finally called it a day. Andy helped Miranda out of her chair and into the car. Smiling all the while for having given Miranda an enjoyable evening.
To soon they arrived at Miranda’s townhouse putting an end to their evening. Once again Andy was all gentlewoman holding out her hand to help Miranda out of the car.
Not willing to let go of Andrea’s hand Miranda held on, again thanking the younger woman for a memorable evening.
“Thank you, Andrea, this was exactly what I needed.”
“My pleasure.”
“Will I see you tomorrow?” Miranda asked hopefully.
“Sorry, but we have a meeting at the department that I can’t skip. I meant to tell you but I forgot with all the excitement.” Andy felt bad for not mentioning it earlier.
“Oh.” Slightly disappointed Miranda just hoped Andrea would attend the reception.
“I will be there for the reception. Promise!”
“Good.” Breathing a sigh of relieve Miranda gave the hand in hers a gentle squeeze. Standing on tiptoes she once again tenderly kissed Andrea’s right cheek before she hurried into her house.
Stopping at the top of the stairs to cast one last glance back at her gentlewoman, Miranda bid her good night.
“Roy will drive you home. Good night, Andrea.”
“Good night.”
Watching Andrea through the glass of the closed door as she climbed into the car to be taken away, Miranda let her head fall against the cool metal frame of her front door. What the hell was wrong with her? She felt like Cinderella after the ball at the prince’s castle. How stupid was that? Here she was, Miranda Priestly, editor from hell, 50 years old with two pre-teenage girls behaving like a love sick teenager. The last thought brought her head up sharp. Where had that come from? Was that what it was all about? How was she supposed to know? No, ridiculous. Completely out of the question.
Turning around slowly she found three, well, actually four pairs of eyes watching her. Nothing like your family to bring you back to reality.
“Babies why are you still up”, Miranda kneeled down to be hugged by her girls.
“Couldn’t sleep. Maria made us some milk.” Cassidy answered into her mother’s neck, inhaling the comfortable scent of her perfume.
“You all right, mommy?” Caroline asked worriedly.
“I’m perfectly fine, darling.”
“Are you sure?” The girl wasn’t completely convinced after having seen the strange look on her mother’s face.
“Yes, baby. Andrea took me to a wonderful dinner after an exhausting day. So, I’m more than fine.”
Standing up with her arms around her girls´ shoulder Miranda greeted Maria with a warm smile recognising the speculative look on her housekeeper’s face. That look meant only one thing, after the girls were in bed she was in for some serious conversation. When had she lost command over her own household? The moment Maria Carvalli walked through the door that was when. But she wouldn’t want it any other way.
“Andy, really?” Cassidy asked eagerly, Andy was her absolute hero after all the cool stuff she had shown them. “Did she take you somewhere cool? I’m sure she did.”
Thinking for a moment about her daughter’s question, Miranda had to answer yes.
“Actually, yes, darling.” Miranda said with a smile.
“Awesome”, Caroline seconded her sister. “Where did you go?”
Leading her girls upstairs Miranda told them about her candlelight dinner at the museum between those large dinosaurs. It became quite clear that Andrea had even risen in her daughter’s admiration. For they thought it was the coolest thing ever. She kissed them good night and gave Patricia a last scratch behind her ear who had taken her usual spot between the girls´ beds.
“You take care of them!” Then Miranda left the room to find Maria for their inevitable talk.
She found her friend in the kitchen with a cup of tea already waiting for her. Although she wasn’t fond of tea during the day she liked to drink one before going to bed. Sitting down opposite Maria she took a sip before looking into Maria’s caring eyes.
“I take it, it was more than cool”, Maria said softly.
Smiling at the phrase, Miranda shook her head. Thinking about the evening, romantic was the word that came to her mind.
“Romantic”, Miranda whispered, more to herself, testing the word and finding it fitting to describe the evening.
“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.”
“Romantic”, Miranda repeated with firmness, “that’s what it was. I have been wined and dined like a queen.”
“Well, isn’t that what they call you? Queen of fashion.” Maria pointed out.
“No.”
“No?”
“No, I mean they used to call me that”, Miranda clarified, “but this wasn’t about my job. This was about me.”
“What do you mean?”
“It wasn’t to impress the editor of Runway. It was about giving me something unique and special. Turning a long and tiring day into a wonderful evening. I haven’t been treated with so much care and gentle regard since, well, never.” Miranda had to admit.
“How does that make you feel?” Although, Maria had a good idea after witnessing that look on Miranda’s face after her return from the dinner.
“Special, cherished. Like Cinderella after the ball”, Miranda blushingly voiced her thoughts from earlier.
“It’s completely silly and ridiculous, I know.”
Patting Miranda’s hand reassuringly Maria had to disagree. “Absolutely not! I think it’s wonderful and it suits you.”
Regarding her friend silently for a few minutes Maria thought it best to ask the big question that was already in the room and both of them avoided at all costs.
“I need to ask you something, Miranda.”
“Go on.”
“I don’t want you to get mad at me or angry. Just think about it before you answer, okay?”
“Okay.” Miranda agreed, wondering what Maria had on her mind.
“Are you in love with Andrea?”
TBC