five hundred and forty two

[bluntsbitch]

Title: Lighting A Fuse Might Result In A Bang
Fandom: The Devil Wears Prada
Rating: NC-17, for graphic smut and swearing.
Outline: It's like something out of a bad porno.
Characters: Emily, Andrea. Nigel in a cameo appearance.
Notes: AU fic, as I've never done one before. First time for everything, right? Timeline is true to early parts of TDWP except there's one big glaring difference: Andy's gay and lusts after Emily. Characters belong to Lauren Weisberger. No copyright infringement intended.

Dedication: This one's for you, Sarah (theagonyofblank).

There was nothing Emily loved more than a good party - yes, even the pitiful ones which Runway hosted. Well, if she were to be perfectly frank, they weren't really all that bad. As long as there was alcohol then she didn't mind showing her face for an hour or two because, usually, after that, she would just secretly retreat into Miranda's office and abuse the hell out of the bottle of vodka that she had managed to wrench away from the party. And, if she got so blindingly drunk that she couldn't stand up straight, then well, Miranda also had a nice couch to crash on. That was one of the perks of having a rich boss - one who was not present this evening, thank God. Or at any other office soiree for that matter. Be it someone's birthday or a national celebration such as this. Too good for it, Emily wagered bitterly. The woman probably had her own fourth of July plans anyway - ones that didn’t involve socialising with the mere Runway cattle.

Nevertheless, Miranda let them have their parties on the sole condition that they steered clear of the closets which housed the expensive fashions. Those were strictly off limits. Good job, too, because who knew what wrath awaited their eager little heads if there was so much as a crease on the latest Alexander McQueen.

Yes, it was best to avoid doing anything that could result in an instant dismissal.

And so, with that in mind, body full of liquor, Emily was giddy, really in the mood for something. What that something was, she didn't know, but she was stopping at nothing to get it. Venturing out of Miranda's immaculate office and into the main area where she sat on a day to day basis, wasting her life away in the hope of claiming that oft dreamed of promotion, Emily heard that truly god awful music that was playing down the corridor in the recess room, the same music she had attempted to drown out by seeking tranquillity in Miranda’s plush quarters. Evidently the office hadn't been that good enough of a place to block out the rabble.

No, the only way Emily was going to get some peace was by heading outside for a smoke.

She would have smoked in the office but knowing her luck, Miranda would smell the stench a mile off tomorrow morning. Not to mention the barrage of questions that would come her way in the aftermath of such insolence. It was funny because smoking wasn't something that Emily done when sober, no, but rather something she done on a whim, particularly craving it when she was drunk, or well on her way to being drunk.

Like right now for example.

Yanking the glass door shut behind her - in a truly haphazard fashion, it had to be said - Emily cursed her luck, barely making it out into the reception area when she heard the ding of the elevator about to depart, its doors subsequently closing over. Shit, she had better get a move on and catch the damn thing!

Running towards it, she shouted in the hope that there was someone within. "Hey! Hold that bloody lift!"

Getting there, Emily jammed her clutch between the doors trying to stop them from shutting over. The doors gave a demented moan at her actions and thus quickly retreated but not before one final indignation that saw Emily catching the heel of her shoe in the gap, causing her to awkwardly fall inside.

Five minutes earlier....

Why in the hell was she at an office party on the fourth of July when she could be at home in Ohio spending the time with her family? Oh, right, because her boss, whom you couldn't say no to, said she couldn't. Andrea had no choice but to stay in New York and 'be available' as Miranda had put it. Available my ass, Andy thought, knowing that ‘be available’ was actually code for ‘be at my beck and call’. Though she had only been at Runway a short while, Andrea was well versed in reading the signs and deciphering hidden meanings.

If truth be told, a party - which everyone had wanted and one that Miranda would, thankfully, not be at - sounded like a good enough idea at the time. Though, about an hour ago, Lil and Doug had called asking if she'd like to cut out early and meet up with them at a shindig down in lower Manhattan. Of course, Andrea jumped at the chance as anywhere was better than standing about with a bunch of people she hardly knew, or had anything in common with, trying to make nice when she wasn't sure if either she or they really meant it.

So she would leave. But not until she had visited Nigel first, Nigel being her only real friend in this inexplicable universe of cotton candy. She would tell him that she had tried to interact with everyone else but just didn't have the patience for it - especially when she could be elsewhere getting hammered with actual friends who truly appreciated her company.

Swallowing a tired sigh, one that had bored of watching everyone partying in disturbing fashion, Andrea made the trip from the recess room to find Miranda's trusted right hand man and trade her goodbyes for the evening. It was then that she realised that even he had other plans tonight. Why did she know? She couldn't remember. Why did she care? Well, there were slim pickings for a viable mate around the area of Manhattan that she resided in, let alone females who were into their own kindred gender. Even in a crowd of people, Andrea felt alienated and to feel that way around one's co-workers just seemed doubly pathetic.

Jabbing the call button for the lift that would take her down to the main foyer of Elias Clark, the brunette tapped an impatient toe and fidgeted with her necklace as the elevator made it's way up. As the doors opened, she stepped inside and pushed the 'door close' button when she heard someone yelling to hold the lift.

She hadn't realised at the time that this voice was a familiar one until the source of said tones clumsily crashed into her, knocking her against the wall. Andrea promptly righted herself when she discovered the added weight was that of one sexy redhead who was all too familiar. Shit. Go figure, that on the Fourth of July, in a lift, with no panties on, Emily-fucking-Charlton - source of many a wet dream, would crash into her.

It was just too much.

Untangling herself from Andrea, Emily straightened up, narrowing her eyes as best she could before giving her fellow woman a quick once over, her sparkling eyes dancing across the brunette’s sleek blue-clad frame with intent. Ooh, was that the latest Marchesa? "Evening Andrea! How lovely to see you looking so... lovely?"

Emily frowned. Good God, was she well canned.

Andrea swallowed hard, watching as Emily pulled away, her heart pounding a mile a minute in her chest. For the moment she was thankful that it was impossible for Emily to smell the arousal on her skin or hear the blood coursing through her veins. Would have been a touch embarrassing if she possessed such an ability.

Still, there they were, Andrea unable to find the words to respond. It was a compliment, of that she was sure, but how much of it did Emily really mean? She was, after all, very drunk.

On the contrary, Emily didn't think she was that far gone. Her thoughts weren't even on herself but instead on that of this lift, and how slow it seemed to be operating. It was quite possibly the slowest piece of mechanical equipment that she had ever rode in her entire life. Seriously, she had fucking vibrators that went ten times the speed of this ridiculous piece of "craftsmanship". For a building which housed many important businesses, such important clientele, the owners were really slack with simple maintenance.

Though, with what was about to happen, elevator maintenance would be the last thing on her mind.

Andrea smiled a cocky smile full of champagne and spunk in her colleague's direction. Emily noticed and in turn cocked an eyebrow, knowing full well the meaning of that smile, hell, she had used that smile many a time when she went on to claim any poor, unsuspecting prey that she had set her sights on.

And it seemed that Andrea here wasn't any different.

As she moved to wrap an arm around Emily's midsection, an action which at first was easily mistakable for a helping hand, it soon became apparent that the look in Andrea's eyes conveyed anything but helpful.

In a split second the sweet smell of Andrea’s perfume tickled Emily's fancy in a way that she hadn't been expecting - a way that had furiously hastened her pulse into an excited flap. Emily concealed her emotions, however, and chose not to offer any verbal indication of said feelings. Instead she gave Andrea a questioning look as if to say, 'excuse you, hands off my merchandise' which was pretty tongue in cheek because Andrea hadn't even touched any part of Emily's body that she classed as merchandise.

Of course Andy knew that it would be a bit on the daring side for her to just go for it like that but she knew exactly what she wanted and if she didn’t do this now then there was absolutely no way that such an opportunity would ever present itself again. The opportunity to find out what Emily tasted like. The time was right to build on that sudden flash of composure she had displayed a mere moment ago.

She had come this far, no chickening out now.

"Happy Fourth of July, Em."

No sooner had she whispered those words, full of mischief and want, fireworks could be heard shooting off out on the streets and in the park, in what was certain to be an amazingly beautiful spectacle of celebration for this legendary weekend of independence. In a slow moving lift, fireworks went off between Miranda Priestly’s two most trusted assistants as Andrea went in for the kill.

Sure, Emily was surprised at first, thinking that perhaps this was just some sort of weird 'Happy Fourth of July' kiss that these silly Americans dreamt up. But, considering the urgency in Andrea's tongue in parting her lips, she figured that no, this was not just some chaste little kiss of celebration. This was a kiss of desire, want and need all rolled into one, as if she had been coveting for this moment for the longest time.

The clutch which Emily had been holding fell to the floor as she felt herself being tugged one way by Andy who seemed more than hell bent on having something happen here tonight in this elevator.

It was quite surprising that Andrea had pushed this, had sought the upper hand. In fact, such control was a feat in itself because it was usually always Emily who snatched Miranda's unclaimed leverage. Not today it seemed. Perhaps she had bruised her ego so badly that it would take her a moment or two to come to terms with what was going on. Because of this, Andrea continued to make the most of it, purposefully pushing her against the wall, hands roaming, deepening the kiss to distraction. She should stop this, but she'd be damned if she could. Emily tasted just like she had imagined, except tinged with a strong hint of vodka mixed with an undercurrent of pepper and strawberries, a flavour which was all too pleasant on her tongue.

Suddenly the elevator's alarm trilled, and in that moment, Andrea knew her wish was coming true. Their slow moving box grounded to a halt, prompting her to vaguely wonder if Emily had accidentally nudged the emergency stop button (which was entirely possibly given their positioning) or if she had deliberately slammed the breaks. Whichever it was, she didn't particularly care because, for her, this meant she had the chance of prolonging her longstanding fantasy of having Emily all to herself.

Yes, it was selfish and admittedly, yes, she did feel a little bit guilty considering the circumstances yet somehow, it still wasn't enough to make her stop. Drunk or not, Emily was reacting and if this was the only way that this was going to play out, then so be it. Of course, she wouldn't make her do anything she didn't want.

But, luckily for her, Emily didn't seem to care for the circumstances whatsoever, already at the point where she would do just about anything within the realm of possibility. It was hard to argue anyway and she wasn't about to try, not when she was being kissed with such eagerness.

Her impatience escalated as she wound a hand around Andrea’s lower back, dragging dexterous fingers across the fabric of the stunning Marchesa, just above her backside, hauling her closer. She could feel herself beginning to grow wet as their tumultuous kissing took on dizzying new heights. In one fluid motion, Emily took a breath and began kissing her way from Andrea's mouth, across her cheek until she eventually reached her neck, briefly resting her lips there and nipping at the flesh, trying to incite her into an explosive reaction - one which might see one of their dresses being pushed up in an effort to really get things going.

Tilting her head back and raising her eyes to the heavens, Andrea moaned, still unable to quite believe her luck. Never had she dreamt Emily to be so receptive. Never had she gone from zero to horny so goddamned fast, either. It actually hurt! She could not even imagine what this must be like for a guy. The lack of a bra made her nipples pert with desire, betraying what little hope she had at being demur after the kiss. She had no such hope, just the desire to continue this for as long as possible, until they were both mad with passion.

Feeling hands exploring her back, Andrea was left with little option but to trail along Emily's front and side, taking a very ample breast in her hand and massaging it gently while rubbing a playful thumb over the nipple hidden beneath the silky fabric of her dress. God, she had been waiting for this for so very long - every time that tight little ass was bent over her desk, the plump cleavage hanging in front of her as Emily chastised her for whatever cardinal sin she had committed that day. How many times had she wanted to throw the bitchy Brit on her desk and bury her face in her breasts before moving south and burying her face elsewhere?

In fact, if someone were ever to ask her to define their relationship, Andrea would classify it as a rather twisted form of courtship, but how much of that Emily was conscious of, had long remained a mystery.

Until now.

Emily’s tone was despairing as she eventually found her voice, her breath hot on Andy's ear. "Fuck, why didn't we think of this before?" It was true. If there was anyone in Runway that Emily would turn dyke for, then it would be Andrea Sachs, the primer than prim second assistant who was quite the patented pain in her arse.

She had heard whispers about Andrea and her sexuality. That she liked women. If that were true then Emily didn't have a right to discriminate. If that was how she wished to live her life, then who was she to deny the woman her desires? Truth be told, Emily was more interested in Andy doing her job properly than anything else that she might get up to in the privacy of her own home and bedroom. However, she'd be lying if she denied ever having gone the whole nine yards with another woman. She worked at Runway for bloody hell’s sake and because of that Emily, naturally, tried everything once.

Though at the end of the day it didn’t really matter. All that did matter, right here and now, was that she was quickly working herself into such a delicious frenzy that she didn't care whom she was doing this with. Sex was sex. Everything else was just finer details, like the small print at the bottom of a contract.

Good God did she want Andrea to get to the small print.

Though the question that she had asked, why had they not done this before, almost had Andrea laughing. It would be a lie to say that she had not considered this moment, but she knew Emily was as straight as an arrow. Well, as straight as any heterosexual woman was, which was actually just a teeny bit gay. Of course, copious shots of vodka did not hurt the situation, Andrea still savouring the high octane alcohol on her taste buds.

It was quite literally a dream come true as she slid her hand down Emily's body, loving on each curve as she went, grabbing the firm ass before allowing her hand to disappear under the tight skirt and panties. Playing a finger along the slickness that had grown between her thighs, she teased that sensitive little bump on her front that would make her gasp, make her moan. All would be right in the world if she could just get the feisty redhead to cry out her name.

Emily gasped instinctually at the change in direction of Andrea's fingers as they swiftly slid between her thighs, discovering her wetness, palpable and unavoidable. It took all of her willpower not to capitulate there and then, instead suspending both of her hands on either side of her body, palms flat as she grabbed onto the metallic bars which ran the perimeter of the elevator, figuring she’d need something to hold on to.

Once the skirt had been lifted as far as she needed, Andrea pulled back slightly, kicking off her shoes so that she could soon be at a better, more submissive height before kissing across Emily’s concealed torso, still stroking the wet heat between her legs.

Emily couldn't help but groan loudly, hands grasping tighter as Andrea's nimble fingers pulled her underwear aside and once again began caressing her soaring centre, taunting idly. A steady heat was now building and all she wanted was for Andy to drop the fucking foreplay and get on with it. She watched through hooded eyes as the second moved her way down, having to trade soft skin for smooth fabric as she knelt before her. Those big doe eyes looked up in a mixture of a pout and a request as she temporarily halted proceedings. Emily looked downwards, seeing an expression which ached to taste, ached to taste her.

"Please?"

Bloody hell, the way she said it. If this was truly what Andrea wanted then heaven help her, Emily was not going to say no. "Christ, yes." she practically spluttered, finally finding her words.

Andrea smiled, keeping her imploring eyes firmly fixated on Emily's. She wanted this, had wanted it for some time, and now here she had Emily Charlton practically begging for it. Of course, Emily would never beg, especially not when she probably had guys lined up a mile long for such an honour. But that was the thing, Andrea didn't feel honoured, she felt horny and naughty and just that little bit cocky.

Still, she was no tease, though she had nothing against teasing, as evident with the tortuously slow speed that she was lifting the hem of Emily's dress. Continuing in her ascendance, Andrea spread the standing woman's legs gently and soon reached the moist juncture that she had been craving. Angling her head upwards, long licks took her from the delicious source of Emily's excitement to her front, where she was able to flick the tip of her tongue against the magic button that could get even the coldest woman going.

Jolting involuntarily, Emily's grip on the bar tightened as Andrea dutifully went about her business. Her eyes rolled back into her head with the initial caressing causing her to bite down on her bottom lip. "We really should have thought about this before." Her words were strained, mind all over the place, cloudy with alcohol and consumed with frenzied arousal. She laid the blame solely at the door of the blasted vodka she had consumed. She also partly blamed Andrea, the big damned lesbian. Christ almighty, she had been turned into a quivering wreck! And by the very woman whom - without fail - tested her patience day in, day out. This same woman who was now testing a very different level of patience.

It soon became apparent that Andy's defiant tongue wasn't enough and was quickly joined by two industrious fingers making an adventurous entrance. Emily instinctively clenched at the infringement, knees almost buckling. "Goddamnit, Andrea." It wasn't so much a reprimand as it was an exclamation of joy.

For Andy, however, there was a smug satisfaction knowing that she was the cause of those unstable gams. Her own desire grew as she continued to lick and suckle, putting in a most earnest effort. Before long, Emily began flirting with the fringes of that first orgasm, prompting Andrea into a throaty groan as she both supported and coaxed her towards the crest. She wanted Emily to come as many times as was possible before either her legs gave out or someone pried the door open with a fire axe out of concern for the screaming.

That was another thing - Andrea wanted Emily to scream. She did not care what: her name, her boyfriend's name, the Vice Chancellor of Zimbabwe's name, whatever - she just wanted to hear her hit E above high C.

As that first wave hit, another quickly followed as Andrea attacked with her probing tongue once again. Emily vocalised her gratification with various indecipherable words, the only one registering was that of ‘yes’ which she groaned over and over in a mad rush. It wasn't quite an outcry but it was certainly audible enough for anyone who happened to be passing by on the floor that the elevator lay suspended on.

Within a few moments, once everything had came to pass, Andy pulled back, licking her lips and giving Emily a moment or two to compose herself. She raised to her feet, turning her head to wipe any stray moist from her chin before slinking in for another heated kiss. She couldn't think of what to say. What could she say? Thank you? Hope you liked it? It was true, she had had lovers. One night stands, even a girlfriend from time to time. But now she had her wettest of dreams coming true - all because of one random stroke of luck. Yes, Andrea Sachs was going to be using this night in her 'self-help' sessions in the forthcoming weeks.

Pulling away, Emily attempted to catch her breath, faintly tasted herself in the aftermath of Andy's roaming tongue. It had been a languorous kiss in every way. Shame her body wasn't feeling quite lethargic, she was ready for round two, ready to reward Andrea as she deserved at least some sort of recognition for all of the hard work she had put into making her come.

Without a word of warning, Andrea found herself being shoved backwards towards the opposing wall, Emily coming up behind her. She was a little surprised at first, fully expecting her to press the button to get the lift moving again. But the air was whuffed out of Andy's lungs as she was tossed about like some plaything, the moan out of her mouth before she could even think about stopping it - an almost snarl playing at her lips as she revelled within Emily's tight hold, one that made escape impossible, almost like an arresting officer and their charge. Oh, she'd happily be her personal prisoner if this was the way things were going to be!

Pressing up against her, Emily guided the brunette back against her, allowing for the freedom to ruffle the dress upwards. "I bet this is like a dream come true for you, isn't it?" she taunted, planting her feet whilst her hand ventured under the dress. Cupping the quivering mound of flesh, she effortlessly slicked the tip of her fingers and pushed them into the moist entrance. All Andy could do was nod - yes - this was the stuff that her dreams were made of, that this was what she had wanted so very badly.

"The thought of having my hands all over you," continued Emily, using her free hand to guide Andrea’s head back gently, her mouth close to her ear. "Inside of you. Fucking you. Doing things that you can only dream about night after night." Her fingers then skipped over Andy’s clit. "Well here I am. You have me."

Andy swallowed hard, willing herself to speak but somehow couldn’t grasp the notion. Not only was she getting more than she could ever have hoped for, in having the ‘favour’ returned, the tone in Emily’s voice almost rendered her speechless. Then again, when she was being touched like this, finger fucked with such fervour, then there really wasn’t any need for words.

So Emily sustained her probing, unable to help but wonder at how being so incredibly horny done wonders for sobering up. Andrea, damn her, was so bloody tight which only served to further encourage her into making her fingers work all the more faster. The nod which she had been given simply prolonged her determination. Knowing that she had such control over another person, being able to dictate their pleasure, was a real turn on. Christ, it was more empowering than being Miranda Priestly herself.

It wasn’t long before Andrea’s ragged breaths caught in her throat, a signal in itself that she was on the brink. It was as if she was free falling into a canyon of passion until she was tugged upwards again - lifted on an air of pleasure until she came - again and again - her vocal cords finally finding some use and gasped Emily’s name as the two fingered thrusting became an almost ruthless act of desperation.

The intensity of it all wasn’t at all surprising and Emily had to make sure that she had enough control over both her body and Andrea’s to combat against slumping on the floor in a tired heap of overwrought passion. What neither of them had been expecting, however, was the elevator doors dinging open, revealing their antics to whomever had called upon the lift. If there was one thing more sobering than arousal, it was getting caught.

Emily, realising they were not alone, retrieved her nestled hand as if she had just been scalded and grinned impishly as she nudged her lover in the back. At the prompt, Andrea shifted her weight and righted herself, tugging at her ruffled dress in an effort to make herself presentable again. Turning to face the music, both girls came face to face with Nigel who harboured an initial expression of shock that quickly and impressively morphed into casual recovery. His eyes, however, continued to wander between them knowingly.

Andrea had that deer in headlights look about her, wondering how they had acquired a spectator when she could have sworn that the lift was idle. The only logical explanation was that one of them must have bumped the stop button sometime during the throes of passion. Of course that would mean that they would have had to have been so wrapped up in one another to not even realise that they were moving. Andy thought back on it, pleased that Emily had been as good as she had imagined her to be, if not better. One night, though. One night was all she reckoned Emily would be up for this kind of play and she sure as hell was not going to press it.

The only thing she had to deal with, for now, was Nigel.

"Nigel," she eventually said, bending down to slip her shoes back on. "I thought you had left?" It was easier to deflect the situation with a question as opposed to denying the obvious. Doing so would be such an insult to the man's intelligence and she valued way him too much to treat him as such.

"You thought correct, Six," he said, entering the lift and pushing his glasses back up his nose. "Unfortunately, I walked three blocks before I realised that I had foolishly forgotten my portfolio." Offering the girls his chequered back, Nigel steadied the folder underneath his arm and smiled smugly to himself as he reached across to the control panel and thumbed the button for ground. The tone in his voice was completely mocking.

"Going down?"