Fic: Course Correct
Title: Course Correct
Rating: G
Pairing: Andy/Emily
Summary: Andy needs to set things right with Emily. Set immediately after the film.
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over the characters contained herein.
A/N: This is a little piece of fluff i wrote for pure_ecstasy6 who has had a crappy day. I just wanted to write something in the hopes of making her feel a little better. This is un-beta'd as i cranked it out as soon as the idea to write it popped into my head. forgive me my mistakes!
It had been a week since Andy threw her phone into the fountain in Paris. One day she would regret her decision. She wouldn’t regret leaving, for standing up for what she believed in, but for leaving the way that she did. It was unprofessional to leave Miranda at the height of Paris fashion week. Mostly she regretted the decision because of the strain she knew it would place on Emily.
The doe eyed journalist had returned from Paris find her apartment devoid of some furniture and all the cooking supplies; she wasn’t really surprised that Nate had given up on her. Yes, she had changed, but why was that a bad thing? She was more aware of the world. She realised that one could still look beautiful and be smart. It took a certain level of maturity to admit that the world was not black and white but varying shades of grey. It was that realisation, the maturity to accept that not all was what it seemed, that had lead to Andy’s biggest revelation. Sometimes people were outwardly cold, but that did not always belie what lay beneath. Andy learnt that about Miranda when she saw her finally stripped of her façade at the hotel room in Paris, he face devoid of makeup as she clutched the grey robe to her chest. Andy always knew that Miranda had to have something underneath; she wouldn’t have been married so many times if she was always as cold as she presented herself to be. No, it was the revelation of the soft heart beneath Emily’s tough exterior that was the most surprising. When Andy, the lumpy cerulean sweater wearing idealist first arrived at Runway she had Emily pegged as a true sycophant, not a mere poser, but the real deal, a clacker to the bone. Then something changed.
It was at the ball when she trailed behind Miranda as Emily relayed the names of all the courtiers to their Queen. Andy saw the wall break when Emily faltered for the name of the Ambassador and his newest partner and she stepped in. The first assistant knew that Andy could have let her fail. Miranda would have been livid and she probably would have fired Emily for the infraction. The small smile of thanks sent a warmth to Andy’s belly that had been long absent. That was the night that everything changed for the brunette. She watched Emily closely for next few days. The woman seemed to be warming to her. In the moments between achieving seemingly impossible tasks for their boss at lightning speeds, a friendship began to blossom. Andy discovered that Emily was truly an artist. Her flare for daring fashion in outlandish colours was born of her artistic side. Emily had always wanted to do something that harnessed that creativity. Fashion became her outlet when she realised she could combine her love for the human form, colour and texture into one endeavour. Standing on the cold sidewalk of New York Andy still smiled at the memory of her hushed conversation with Emily as they waited for Miranda to leave for the day. The redhead had spoken with such passion and fervour that Andy soon found herself entranced.
Maybe in another life things would have worked out. As it was, Andy was in a relationship quickly becoming unmanageable. Perhaps if she were single the brunette would have pursued Emily then. It wouldn’t have been difficult. Emily often spent long minutes appraising Andy. At first, it was to comment on her hideous skirts. Soon it was something more. The redhead practically combusted when she saw Andy in the thigh high Channel boots, even Serena couldn’t keep her eyes off of her.
In the end it wasn’t Nate and her crumbling relationship that got in the way of the budding connection between the two assistants, it was Miranda. Andy should have expected it, but she didn’t. Paris, one word undid it all. Emily went from hushed conversations and inadvertent touches back to maniacal first assistant with one single decision. Andy was going to Paris with Miranda. Andy felt her heart break as she watched Emily, laid up in her hospital bed, fuming at her. There was nothing she could do, how could she refuse to go, there was no way that Emily would be able to go regardless.
At the time, Andy was fuming. It wasn’t like Andy was chosen over Emily. The redhead had been removed from the equation entirely. Andy was like the runner up at Miss Universe taking over the title because the actual winner was caught up in a drug scandal. She might be wearing the crown, but she would always be second best, second choice.
Now that was all over, Andy had left and Emily was safely ensconced in Miranda’s cocoon again. Miranda had forgiven her, hadn’t she? Why couldn’t Emily? Andy was just happy enough, just revived enough to believe that she could achieve all that she set her mind to. It was a relief to have that mindset firmly returned. Andy found herself at across the street from the Elias-Clerk building, staring up at the 17th floor. Emily would be in there, sitting at the desk that they had shared so few, but meaningful, moments together.
The newly hired journalist dialled the familiar number without realising it.
“Miranda Priestly’s office.” Andy grinned widely. She missed her friend; she missed the anticipation of what they could have become.
“Hey Em.” Andy couldn’t stop smiling as she told Emily that she could have the clothes she got from Paris. She practically beamed when the Brit agreed to meet her for drinks after work. It was time to mend fences.
Andy looked up and a streak of white caught her attention. The brunette had a lot of things to thank Miranda for. She had taught her so much about being a woman in position of power, a woman of conviction, but also if it she never hired her, Andy would never have met Emily. That was something for which she would always be grateful. Miranda looked up and locked eyes with the journalist who waved. There was no outward reaction, Andy didn’t expect one. She smiled to herself, she was going to meet up with Emily tonight and everything was going to change.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Andy could hear Emily before she saw her. The bar was crowded as the after work patrons streamed in drinking away the memories of the workday. Emily was loudly informing an already intoxicated executive type that he could kindly remove his hand from her arse or else he would find his balls swiftly detached. Emily might have been brash, but one could never mistake her intent.
“Well the bankers are already hammered.” Emily gave Andy the usual once over. The brunette smirked when no barbs were forthcoming. She must have passed the usual outfit test.
“Hi Em.” Andy was beaming and she knew she was. The journalist was a woman with a plan.
“You mentioned couture Andy; pleasantries can always be dealt with later.” The redhead practically snatched the garment bags out of Andy’s hands and began to examine their contents.
“Andy - ” the redhead was frowning. “- these clothes are all a size too small for you. There is also no conceivable way that you would ever be able to pull off this fuchsia Michael Kors.”
Andy ducked her head in embarrassment; she didn’t think the Brit would notice. “I got them all for you. I never wanted to take your place Em. You always wanted to go to Paris and I didn’t want to ruin that for you. I just wanted to make up for it.”
Emily watched Andy closely, examining her for any signs of deceit. She seemed to come to a conclusion. “Yes, well. Do they serve drinks in this place or all we all meant to die of thirst?”
The brunette began to laugh earnestly. If Emily was going to act like Paris never happened, then so would she.
“There is only one thing I want to know Andy.” Emily practically pinned Andy to her seat as she gazed at her intently.
“Ye-s” Andy stammered, her heart rate jumped under Emily’s intense watch.
“Why on earth did you pick me out lingerie?” Emily was practically nonchalant and Andy smelled a trap.
“I - I mean - I just - and you are” A blush quickly turned the brunette’s pale skin a deep shade of crimson.
Emily decided to take pity on the woman. “I missed you too.” The redhead smiled slyly and took Andy’s hand. That small gesture seemed to say it all. Andy wasn’t the only one who felt the growing attraction, the growing intimacy. Sometimes a little optimism can go a long way.
Andy beamed at the redhead, gently squeezing Emily’s hand. She leaned in slowly, savouring the anticipation as the room around them dropped away at the feel of soft lips against her own. This moment, in the middle of a crowded bar, was perfection. Andy had forgotten the flutter of arousal, the feeling of lust. It was time she was reminded and she had found the perfect person to do it.
The end.