The White Queen Falls (Miranda/Andrea); Chapter 5
Pairing: Miranda/Andrea
Rating: NC-17/Mature at some point
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Fluff
Betas: My darlings Susi and Jiggles.
Summary: What if Miranda hadn't known?
Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to "The Devil Wears Prada". I only want to play around with our two favourite ladies. I make absolutely zero profit of this.
A/N: I just wanted to say how overwhelmed and extremely happy I am by all the lovely feedback. Thank you so much, guys! ♥
Previous: [ Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 ]
Chapter 5
It was still dark when Andy woke the next morning, and for a few minutes she simply listened as water trickled down the rain pipe in front of her window. The muted murmur of raindrops brushing over pine tree foliage outside told her the weather hadn't changed over night. Andy snuggled deeper into the sheets and willed sleep to return. Facing another day stuck inside the cabin with Miranda did not appeal to her.
She felt conflicted and confused. The Miranda she knew would have wanted to leave Runway with a bang. The last issue with her name on it was scheduled to go to print in two days, but Miranda hadn't even looked at the latest mock-up. And although Andy understood that even a woman as strong as Miranda could lose all motivation when heartbroken over her daughters' rejection, it was a challenge to stay patient and not push Miranda to tend to what remained of her magazine.
So far, Andy had managed to be professional, but she wasn't sure she could deal with any more fire making, or the unnerving extended eye contact. She pulled the sheets over her head and blew out a long breath. It wasn't exactly something she wanted to analyse. She could barely handle a sad and broken Miranda, let alone a Miranda who spent an entire evening sitting by the fire, simply watching her assistant work. At least she had not heard any more sobs coming from Miranda's room during the night.
Andy groaned and turned over to bury her cold nose in the pillow.
Why me?
Of course Andy knew the answer. She had stayed by Miranda's side when everyone else had left. The choice had been an easy one, and as she looked back she was certain she'd make it again.
Birdsong from her phone's alarm signalled six a.m., and with a final sigh Andy pushed off the mattress and dragged herself out of bed. Cracking her jaw with a couple of uncontrollable yawns, she went about her morning routine in the narrow en-suite bathroom. After a quick shower and a rather futile attempt at straightening her hair in the humid climate, Andy staggered back into the bedroom in search of clothes.
While she got dressed, she contemplated a quick morning walk in the rain. Miranda wasn't likely to be up yet, and Andy decided she could use a bit of fresh air to clear her mind. She pulled an aubergine cashmere vest over her head and quietly left the room.
Miranda, however, was already awake and fully dressed, prodding at the beginnings of a fire in the living space. Andy stood at the top of the open staircase for a while and watched the older woman work in silence. There was something odd, but at the same time comforting about seeing Miranda do a task so basic and - clichéd or not - masculine.
"Are you just going to stand there and stare, or will you go and make yourself useful in the kitchen?" Miranda said without looking up.
I guess that makes me the female in this equation, Andy thought.
The urge to roll her eyes and her natural instinct to counter the gender bias were suddenly pushed aside by a sharp fixation on the word equation. It caused her to blush, and she mentally scolded herself for drifting off into dangerous waters so early in the day. There was no "Andy and Miranda". They weren't friends. Five more days and Miranda would no longer be a part of her life. With the heaviness in her heart slowing her steps, Andy descended the stairs.
"Uhm... sorry. I thought that you'd still be asleep," she mumbled glumly.
"Don't be absurd, Andrea. It's nine o'clock in New York by now." Miranda turned around to look directly at Andy, fire poker dangling from her fingers. "Why would I lounge around in bed when there's still so much to do?"
Andy's heart began to beat faster at the playful tone, and with sudden relief pouring through her belly like warm cocoa, she studied the woman in front of the fireplace. Miranda's shoulders were straight, her eyes bright, and her lips held a lively smirk that filled Andy with hope.
"M-much to do? You mean...?"
Miranda rolled her eyes and moved to hang the fire poker back at its spot on the wall.
"I have a video conference with Nigel at seven-thirty. I need to go over the book until then."
She walked over to the dining table where her laptop was already booting up.
"So," she paused for a moment and smirked again at Andy before sitting down. "Coffee."
Limbs startling awake, Andy jumped into action.
"Of course! Sorry! Yes!"
During her months at Runway Andy had learned quite a few quick and easy low-carb breakfast recipes, and while the coffee maker was gently humming through the quietness of the morning, she pulled out a frying pan and raided the fridge for ingredients. After placing everything on the counter she poured hot milk into the cup of fresh espresso and carried the coffee to the table.
"Here you go. The food will be done in five minutes," Andy announced, trying hard not to sound too cheerful as she set the steaming cup next to Miranda's Macbook.
"Thank you."
Eyes wide from shock at the extremely uncharacteristic phrase, Andy hurried back to the kitchen counter and quickly whipped up the eggs. Miranda had somehow changed over night. The defeated, mourning woman of the previous few days had been replaced by a Miranda who was pro-active and hard-working like her old Snow Queen editor-in-chief persona, but who at the same time did things like smirk at Andy and say "thank you".
Andy's heart had not yet calmed and she was buzzing with energy as the reality of this new and improved Miranda slowly settled over her. For the first time since Paris she was filled with a sense that things would be all right, and elation flooded her chest, lifting a weight off her shoulders that she hadn't known was there. Fighting the urge to whistle, she concentrated on breakfast and tried not to grin.
By seven a.m. they had eaten, and they quickly settled into that active buzz early mornings tended to bring. They were seated across from each other at the large dining table and their keystrokes clacked into the quiet dawn as they typed away on their laptops. Andy had downloaded a digital version of the mock-up, and although Miranda usually preferred going over a hard copy, she was deeply focused on making the necessary corrections to the final issue.
Andy looked over the edge of her screen to watch the older woman for a while. The dark rings under Miranda's eyes were still there, but they appeared less profound and she had applied some light make-up. Nothing she'd wear at the office, but rather the soft palette usually reserved for evenings at the townhouse. Completely engrossed in her work, she occasionally bit her bottom lip and tilted her head from left to right before leaning forward and vigorously typing notes about what she wanted changed.
It calmed Andy to see Miranda in charge like that. The fact that they were sitting at a solid wood dining table in a cabin on the rainy Pacific coast didn't take away from the feeling of professionalism that filled the air.
A chime that signalled the arrival of new mail drew Andy's attention back to her own laptop.
"Your lawyers want to know whether you'll be back in New York to sign the final divorce papers next Thursday," she informed Miranda while typing the beginnings of a reply email.
When no answer was forthcoming Andy looked up from her screen and found Miranda gazing out the window. The dark and wet morning held the older woman's attention for quite a while and Andy waited patiently for her to come to a decision. Miranda's lips were pursed and Andy wondered whether it had been too soon to bring up Stephen and the failed marriage. However, when Miranda turned back around there was no sadness in her eyes.
"No. I don't think I will," she said, looking directly at Andy. "Make a new appointment for the first week of January."
With a nod Andy scribbled down some notes and then opened Miranda's schedule.
"And when you're done, contact the owner of this cabin and book it for the remainder of the month. Change the payment from Runway's expense account and use my personal funds instead."
Andy looked up, startled, but Miranda was already focusing on her work again.
Crap! She thought.
What would Miranda say when she found out they were staying for free? The idea that Miranda should remain at the cabin while Andy was forced to leave made her feel uncomfortable, but she couldn't exactly come out and say that she had planned to stay here after her time as Miranda's assistant was up. Her good mood had almost completely evaporated, and when a few seconds later her phone buzzed and she looked at the caller ID her mood turned dark.
She stood, excused herself and quickly walked towards the veranda.
"What the hell do you want?" She barked into the phone as soon as she had closed the doors behind her. It was incredibly cold outside and she could see her breath crystallise in front of her. The angry fire in her veins, though, kept her warm.
"Andy, Andy. What's with the hostility?" Came the smarmy voice from the other end of the line.
"Oh, I don't know. How about I'm pissed at you for conspiring against my boss?" She said, trying hard to keep her voice level.
"Conspiring? Oh don't be so dramatic, Andy. Jacqueline offered me an editing job and I accepted. Besides, it was time for the Dragon Lady to move on." Andy's hand curled into a fist. "You of all people should know how insane she is. I mean, you worked for her. I'm still surprised you lasted that long."
"Work," she hissed through clenched teeth. "I work for her."
"What? You're still with her? But wasn't she fired in Paris?" He sounded confused.
"I don't know how it's any of your business, Christian, but her contract runs until this Friday and she's still finishing the January issue."
"Oh."
"And if that's all, I would like to get back to work." She was incredibly annoyed by his nerve, and quite relieved she had cancelled their dinner date in Paris. Spending an evening in the company of such a self-important man right after being confronted with the sacrifices Miranda had made for her career would have enraged her.
"Seriously, Andy. Why are you still working for her? What about your future? What about your writing career?"
That gave her pause. Christian Thompson was an award-winning author and remaining on his good side would probably be beneficial. Still, that didn't change the fact that he was an ass.
"Listen, Andy. I know that a recommendation from Miranda will get you some job interviews, but do you really want to start in the bull-pen of some crummy newspaper when I can offer you a junior editor position right away?"
"What?"
"Yes. I did read some of those articles you sent me. You've got talent, Andy. You were the first person I thought of."
Andy had the sinking feeling that she was demolishing all the highways to her dream career, but she gripped the phone tightly and replied as calmly as she could, "Stay at Runway and work for you? Not a chance!"
Christian laughed, but his tone was humourless.
"Don't be stupid, Andy. I will only make this offer once. Your British colleague girl already works for Jacqueline, and most of Runway's core staff is staying as well. Nothing would change except that you'd earn more and you'd actually get to write."
"Emily works for Jacqueline?"
She knew she shouldn't sound so surprised. After all Miranda had destroyed Emily's dream of going to Paris for Fashion Week by picking Andy instead. Still, the idea that the senior assistant would so readily betray Miranda left her with a bitter taste in her mouth.
"She practically jumped at the offer. In fact, she arranged the refurbishing of Miranda's old office just this morning, and she seemed really driven by the fact that Jacqueline only needs one assistant."
"No doubt," Andy rolled her eyes, but her stomach was in knots. She didn't like that people were touching Miranda's things and changing everything in her office when Miranda, present or not, was still editor-in-chief for another five days. Unacceptable.
"So. Yes or no, Andy?" He sounded impatient and she wished she could somehow smack him through the phone line.
"No. Never!" Despite her attempts to sound calm she was quite worked up, and her voice rose in pitch when she continued, "I'd rather move to Newfoundland and write for the Gammy Bird than work for you or Jacqueline."
And with that she hung up.
Adrenaline had her ears ringing, and the cold, moist air burned her lungs as she swallowed it up in big gulps. Her hand began to hurt and she slowly relaxed the grip on her phone. Had she just made the biggest mistake of her life? Her parents would certainly think so. Not for the first time they would harshly judge her for a career decision. Then again her parents would be even more angry about the place she was currently at and the person she was with.
Andy closed her eyes and slowly exhaled through her nostrils. The pounding in her head gradually eased as she concentrated on her surroundings. Nothing was as calming as the sound of rain and the tide coming in, gently pushing against the shore wave after wave. In the distance she could make out a bald eagle's call, and the scent of pine needles and moss almost made her cry.
She shook herself and blinked away the small drops of mist that had gathered on her lashes. The light of dawn barely broke through the fog that came from the mountains and rolled down toward the coast, and now that her anger had lessened, Andy felt the chill of the morning creep beneath her thin blouse and vest. With a final deep breath she looked at her phone and hit speed dial number three.
"Don't tell me she's rescheduling the video call?" Nigel sounded slightly harassed, but his familiar voice soothed Andy.
"Oh, no no. I just need to ask you a favour, Nige." She felt apologetic, but the urgency of the matter pressed her on.
"For you, Six, anything," he drawled and she could picture his smile on the other end.
"I need you to get Miranda's private things from her office before those barbarians trash everything. Get the photographs of her girls, the prints by Meisel and Leibovitz and all her art books. I know you're already doing so much, but this is really important. I can't stand the thought of them disrespecting her even more, Nige."
"Doll, don't worry your pretty little head! It's already done. Lucia helped me move everything into my office last night, and Roy will pick up the boxes this evening."
Andy exhaled in relief. "You're a lifesaver, Nigel."
"It's the least I can do, Six," he said thoughtfully. "Thanks to Miranda I got my dream job, and I'll be out of here by the end of January." The sigh he released sounded happy, if a little tired. "How is she holding up, by the way? I was pleasantly surprised to get her message this morning."
Andy looked through the window into the lit cabin where Miranda was taking another sip from her coffee. For a small moment she savoured the hot liquid, eyes closing and her head tilting to the side ever so slightly, before she bent back over her laptop.
"I don't know, Nige. It was quite bad for the past few days, but today she seems all right. Driven, actually." Andy shivered and she pulled up her shoulders against the cold wind that played at her collar. "She's going over the book right now, which is quite a relief."
"That's good news," Nigel murmured. "Any idea what brought on the sudden change?"
"I have no idea," Andy replied and it was the truth. "Whatever it is, I'm glad she's back."
Nigel was quiet for a while. Then he cleared his throat and said, "and I'm glad you're with her, Six."
With another glance at Miranda, who at that moment turned to look back at her with familiar impatience, Andy sighed.
"So am I, Nige. So am I."
Chapter 6