DWP HALLOWEEN SPECIAL - HANDY, CHAPTER 3
Title: Handy
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Andy/Miranda
Prompt: Based on a prompt by pradaschroma about Miranda “accidentally” grabbing Andy’s breast.
Summary: Miranda is having a bad day. And then it gets worse :-O
Warnings: It’s a Halloween Special!! Craziness ensues!
Disclaimer: I don’t own The Devil Wears Prada. I only play around with our favourite characters because it’s entertaining an no profit is being made.
A/N: Here's chapter three. I was greatly inspired by the very last bit of the DWP gag reel, where Meryl says "I will lose... what is left of my mind." ^_^ I hope you guys enjoy it!
Previous chapters: 1 | 2
Chapter 3
Miranda heard Andrea call for medical assistance in the outer office as she tried to slow her breathing. Oh god! Had she really just dived, face first, into the office carpet? After fondling the bosom of her young assistant? Only to proceed with trailing her hand up the girl’s thighs? The editor’s heart was pounding wildly. She spent several uncharacteristic seconds hoping that it had all been a dream. A figment of her imagination. Pressing the offending arm tightly against her chest with her left hand, Miranda tried to calm down. What the hell had just happened?! She was not some kind of pervert that felt up innocent young women!
It had felt as if her hand had moved by its own free will. She certainly had tried to fight it, had tried to pull it away. And why had she plunged to the floor, as if possessed? She closed her eyes and counted to ten. Taking deep, slow breaths she moved to her chair to sit back down, and faced the window once more, hoping to make some sort of sense of everything.
This was the most ridiculous thing, that had ever happened to her. Miranda was at a complete loss and leaned back into the chair, feeling the ridiculous urge to disappear. Of all people, it had happened in front of Andrea. The one person she had come to rely on, the one person, she felt, could maybe even like and respect her, unlike everybody else in her life.
Miranda couldn’t prevent a frustrated groan when she thought about the possibility of Andrea filing a sexual harassment suit against her. What did the girl think of her now? Was their pleasant working relationship ruined? Would she quit? The editor was glad that they were ‘in between second assistants’, and the outer office had been empty when she had so blatantly fondled Andrea and thrown herself at the girl’s feet.
She absentmindedly rubbed her left thumb and index finger against her temples and suddenly realized that she had let go of her right hand. She looked down at it and it did not seem to twitch anymore and just lay lifelessly in her lap. She carefully began to flex her fingers and to her relief they wriggled at her command. Miranda closed her eyes and exhaled slowly through tight lips. This day truly was the worst. Ever.
“Miranda, the office nurse is here.” The editor flinched at the sound of her assistant’s voice. “I’m fine now, Andrea. Send her away.” She heard someone walk around her desk and clear their throat. “Mrs. Priestly, your assistant told us that you were maybe having a stroke or a heart attack. I need to examine you.”
Miranda spun her chair around at the ‘Mrs.’ and gave one of her best glares to the nurse. The events of this lousy day fueled the iciness in her voice when she spoke evenly through clenched teeth. “You will do no such thing.“
The nurse was a mousy woman with short hair and a small chin and she was wearing a white lab coat and carrying an emergency case in her hand. “I’m very sorry, Ma'am, but Elias-Clark policy states that I must examine you in order to clear you. Otherwise I will need to phone an ambulance.”
Miranda managed to suppress her rage and rolled her eyes in defeat. She really did not want anyone to invade her personal space anymore today. Not that Andrea had, though. It had been the other way around, of course. She closed her eyes in an attempt not to blush and when she opened them again she noticed the reflection of Andrea leaning against the door frame in the window, looking right back at her. The girl’s brows were slightly furrowed and Miranda wondered if she was actually worried about her or if she was calculating whether she could still find a lawyer this late in the day.
The nurse stepped closer and pulled Miranda from her thoughts. “Okay, let’s listen to your heart.” The cold stethoscope against her sternum was highly unpleasant. Not as unpleasant as the unattractive woman hovering right above her, though. In an attempt to block her out, Miranda looked back toward the window to seek out Andrea’s eyes. To her surprise the girl gave a slight smile, as if to encourage the editor.
“Heart sounds good,” the nurse said as she moved to retrieve a sphygmomanometer from the case. “Let’s see about the pressure.” She stepped unbearably close again, her breath smelling of cheap Indian food, and Miranda felt her right hand twitch. Oh no! Please! No more inappropriate chest-grabbing, for crying out loud!!
The unpleasant woman was holding onto Miranda’s left arm in order to position the inflatable cuff, making it difficult for the editor to restrain her twitching hand. “Move away this instant,” she hissed through gritted teeth. The nurse, probably used to her share of difficult patients, just grabbed her wrist tighter and pinned it down. “Now, this won’t hurt a bit. There’s no reason to be difficult.” From the corner of her eye Miranda saw her alarmed assistant step into the office. She did not want to expose Andrea to anymore weirdness. “Let go of my arm!” She struggled trying to free herself. “Would you hold still, Mrs. Priestly!”
That did it. Miranda felt her right hand shoot toward the nurse in a flash and connect harshly with the woman’s stomach. The nurse’s eyes went wide as she staggered away and fell on her backside with a yelp, clutching her middle. The editor glanced in horror at her outstretched arm, hovering in the air, and clenched in a fist so tight that her knuckles were turning white. Okay, that had certainly not been ‘inappropriate chest-grabbing’.
“Miranda, are you alright?” Andrea was by her side again, this time keeping a bit more distance.
The nurse wheezed. “Is she alright? Ugh! I’m the one... who was assaulted!” Miranda ignored the woman on the floor and just stared at the girl in front of her with terror in her eyes. She was no longer concerned about fondling her assistant. What if she actually physically hurt her? Something inside her contracted at that thought and she felt sick. “Andrea, please stay away,” she whispered in a pleading tone, averting her gaze from the girl’s large, dark eyes. To hell with dignity today.
Andrea nodded and turned to help the nurse up. The woman was cursing wildly and rushed to pack and close the emergency case. “I will report this to my superior, do you hear me?” Miranda still sat with her fist in the air, pulling at the rigid arm with her left hand, but just like before, it would not budge. The nurse mumbled a cascade of insults as she stomped toward the door.
Andrea quickly moved after her and caught her in the outer office. “Wait! Miranda asked you to let go. She was obviously in a lot of pain and you made it worse.” The nurse glared at her, but said nothing, so the assistant continued. “So, unless you want a companion report filed about your own behavior, I’d say we’ll just drop this.”
The short woman looked over at Miranda, who felt plenty of pain from the way her fist was still clenching. It must have shown in her face because the nurse turned back to Andrea and said quietly. “Alright. But make sure she sees a doctor.” Andrea reached out to squeeze the woman’s shoulder briefly and nodded. “Thank you. I will.”
Once the nurse was out of sight Miranda felt her arm drop to her lap and she groaned in relief when she slowly unrolled her fingers. Well, her hand certainly had mood swings, its disobedience seemed to come and go at random intervals. The editor rubbed her aching palm and sighed. She needed to get out of the office. Away from people. Maybe it was a good thing that the girls were gone tonight. The mere thought of scaring, or hurting them constricted her lungs and made her shudder.
She stood up quickly and brushed through the door, however, before she could say anything, Andrea had already jumped to retrieve her purse and trench coat from the closet. She offered them with a sweet smile and Miranda paused for a moment. After all the craziness that had just happened in her office, this girl was still doing her job, no questions asked. That was true loyalty and Miranda wasn’t sure if she had ever experienced that before.
She accepted her things with the left hand, turning her right shoulder away from her assistant, just to make sure. Once she was fully dressed, she regarded Andrea for a moment before she lowered her voice to a whisper. “Thank you, Andrea.”
The assistant’s eyes widened briefly at the unusual word’s coming from her boss’ lips, but she quickly nodded. “No problem, Miranda. I really do hope that you are okay.” The girl’s smile moved something inside of the editor. Andrea was honestly concerned and did not simply assume that she had lost her mind or harboured dishonorable intentions. Miranda realized her trust in the girl was not misplaced.
Before she had time to react, she felt her right hand snake up from behind her back and fly toward Andrea’s cheek. They both let out a startled gasp, but the contact was soft and gentle and the warmth of the quickly flushing skin tingled in Miranda’s palm. “Oh god, I’m so sorry,” the older woman whispered while she tried to remove her hand. “That damn hand does these things on its own. I can’t control it.” She was blushing furiously.
Andrea gave her a strange look but did not reply. Instead she reached for the hand and slowly removed it. How did she do that? Miranda was convinced she herself could not control that hand and she tried to wriggle out of Andrea’s grasp. She did not succeed and was surprised when the girl easily dropped the arm back to the editor’s side. “Goodnight, Miranda,” she said softly and walked back to sit behind her desk, busying herself with typing on the computer.
The editor was gobsmacked, but tried to keep her face even. Miranda Priestly understood everything, all the time. And if she didn’t, then it probably was something inanely uninteresting, so why bother. However, the conundrum of her kamikaze arm actually made her doubt her own sanity. She gave a slight nod and quickly walked toward the elevator, not daring to look back.
On her way down to the lobby she realized that beyond anything she hoped that things would not get damaged between her and her assistant. She wasn’t sure she could face the next day if Andrea decided to leave her over this.
The journey to her town house was spent sitting on her hand in the back of her Mercedes. Just as a precaution, of course. She wouldn’t want that damn appendage to open the door in the middle of the freeway or fling itself at her driver.
As soon as Miranda had closed the front door of her home behind her, she took a deep breath and slumped against the wall. She was tired and hungry and nothing made any sense. She hung up her coat and bag and made her way to the kitchen. Because of the girls’ night away she had allowed the cook a night off and toyed with the idea of making a small omelet. She swung open the fridge and let her eyes travel across the shelves. Mustard, French cheese, champagne, lettuce, Greenfield Beef, a bucket of tiramisu, diet soda, organic tomatoes...
Wait a second. Her right hand had clamped itself around the tiramisu and was pulling it out of the fridge. “For crying out loud!” She groaned into the empty kitchen.
Fine! Whatever! She slammed the fridge door closed and went to find a spoon. If her hand wanted tiramisu, it would get tiramisu. She was too tired and frustrated to fight it. The editor moved to the sitting room and lowered herself into her favourite chair, as elegantly as she could manage with a giant bucket of fat and carbs clutched in her right hand. She snorted at the ridiculous situation and removed the lid.
As she sat in her chair, licking the coffee, cream and alcohol off the spoon in her Chanel suit, it finally sunk in that she had touched Andrea today. Three times, no less. And her only concern had been whether the girl had minded. The question, whether she herself had disliked the contact, had never even come up.
Taking another spoonful of the dessert, she felt her lips curl up slightly. Maybe she was having an adrenaline crash, or her mouth had decided to run amok as well. Reveling in the strange glow that swept up inside of her, Miranda realized that she did not mind.
Chapter 4...
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Andy/Miranda
Prompt: Based on a prompt by pradaschroma about Miranda “accidentally” grabbing Andy’s breast.
Summary: Miranda is having a bad day. And then it gets worse :-O
Warnings: It’s a Halloween Special!! Craziness ensues!
Disclaimer: I don’t own The Devil Wears Prada. I only play around with our favourite characters because it’s entertaining an no profit is being made.
A/N: Here's chapter three. I was greatly inspired by the very last bit of the DWP gag reel, where Meryl says "I will lose... what is left of my mind." ^_^ I hope you guys enjoy it!
Previous chapters: 1 | 2
Chapter 3
Miranda heard Andrea call for medical assistance in the outer office as she tried to slow her breathing. Oh god! Had she really just dived, face first, into the office carpet? After fondling the bosom of her young assistant? Only to proceed with trailing her hand up the girl’s thighs? The editor’s heart was pounding wildly. She spent several uncharacteristic seconds hoping that it had all been a dream. A figment of her imagination. Pressing the offending arm tightly against her chest with her left hand, Miranda tried to calm down. What the hell had just happened?! She was not some kind of pervert that felt up innocent young women!
It had felt as if her hand had moved by its own free will. She certainly had tried to fight it, had tried to pull it away. And why had she plunged to the floor, as if possessed? She closed her eyes and counted to ten. Taking deep, slow breaths she moved to her chair to sit back down, and faced the window once more, hoping to make some sort of sense of everything.
This was the most ridiculous thing, that had ever happened to her. Miranda was at a complete loss and leaned back into the chair, feeling the ridiculous urge to disappear. Of all people, it had happened in front of Andrea. The one person she had come to rely on, the one person, she felt, could maybe even like and respect her, unlike everybody else in her life.
Miranda couldn’t prevent a frustrated groan when she thought about the possibility of Andrea filing a sexual harassment suit against her. What did the girl think of her now? Was their pleasant working relationship ruined? Would she quit? The editor was glad that they were ‘in between second assistants’, and the outer office had been empty when she had so blatantly fondled Andrea and thrown herself at the girl’s feet.
She absentmindedly rubbed her left thumb and index finger against her temples and suddenly realized that she had let go of her right hand. She looked down at it and it did not seem to twitch anymore and just lay lifelessly in her lap. She carefully began to flex her fingers and to her relief they wriggled at her command. Miranda closed her eyes and exhaled slowly through tight lips. This day truly was the worst. Ever.
“Miranda, the office nurse is here.” The editor flinched at the sound of her assistant’s voice. “I’m fine now, Andrea. Send her away.” She heard someone walk around her desk and clear their throat. “Mrs. Priestly, your assistant told us that you were maybe having a stroke or a heart attack. I need to examine you.”
Miranda spun her chair around at the ‘Mrs.’ and gave one of her best glares to the nurse. The events of this lousy day fueled the iciness in her voice when she spoke evenly through clenched teeth. “You will do no such thing.“
The nurse was a mousy woman with short hair and a small chin and she was wearing a white lab coat and carrying an emergency case in her hand. “I’m very sorry, Ma'am, but Elias-Clark policy states that I must examine you in order to clear you. Otherwise I will need to phone an ambulance.”
Miranda managed to suppress her rage and rolled her eyes in defeat. She really did not want anyone to invade her personal space anymore today. Not that Andrea had, though. It had been the other way around, of course. She closed her eyes in an attempt not to blush and when she opened them again she noticed the reflection of Andrea leaning against the door frame in the window, looking right back at her. The girl’s brows were slightly furrowed and Miranda wondered if she was actually worried about her or if she was calculating whether she could still find a lawyer this late in the day.
The nurse stepped closer and pulled Miranda from her thoughts. “Okay, let’s listen to your heart.” The cold stethoscope against her sternum was highly unpleasant. Not as unpleasant as the unattractive woman hovering right above her, though. In an attempt to block her out, Miranda looked back toward the window to seek out Andrea’s eyes. To her surprise the girl gave a slight smile, as if to encourage the editor.
“Heart sounds good,” the nurse said as she moved to retrieve a sphygmomanometer from the case. “Let’s see about the pressure.” She stepped unbearably close again, her breath smelling of cheap Indian food, and Miranda felt her right hand twitch. Oh no! Please! No more inappropriate chest-grabbing, for crying out loud!!
The unpleasant woman was holding onto Miranda’s left arm in order to position the inflatable cuff, making it difficult for the editor to restrain her twitching hand. “Move away this instant,” she hissed through gritted teeth. The nurse, probably used to her share of difficult patients, just grabbed her wrist tighter and pinned it down. “Now, this won’t hurt a bit. There’s no reason to be difficult.” From the corner of her eye Miranda saw her alarmed assistant step into the office. She did not want to expose Andrea to anymore weirdness. “Let go of my arm!” She struggled trying to free herself. “Would you hold still, Mrs. Priestly!”
That did it. Miranda felt her right hand shoot toward the nurse in a flash and connect harshly with the woman’s stomach. The nurse’s eyes went wide as she staggered away and fell on her backside with a yelp, clutching her middle. The editor glanced in horror at her outstretched arm, hovering in the air, and clenched in a fist so tight that her knuckles were turning white. Okay, that had certainly not been ‘inappropriate chest-grabbing’.
“Miranda, are you alright?” Andrea was by her side again, this time keeping a bit more distance.
The nurse wheezed. “Is she alright? Ugh! I’m the one... who was assaulted!” Miranda ignored the woman on the floor and just stared at the girl in front of her with terror in her eyes. She was no longer concerned about fondling her assistant. What if she actually physically hurt her? Something inside her contracted at that thought and she felt sick. “Andrea, please stay away,” she whispered in a pleading tone, averting her gaze from the girl’s large, dark eyes. To hell with dignity today.
Andrea nodded and turned to help the nurse up. The woman was cursing wildly and rushed to pack and close the emergency case. “I will report this to my superior, do you hear me?” Miranda still sat with her fist in the air, pulling at the rigid arm with her left hand, but just like before, it would not budge. The nurse mumbled a cascade of insults as she stomped toward the door.
Andrea quickly moved after her and caught her in the outer office. “Wait! Miranda asked you to let go. She was obviously in a lot of pain and you made it worse.” The nurse glared at her, but said nothing, so the assistant continued. “So, unless you want a companion report filed about your own behavior, I’d say we’ll just drop this.”
The short woman looked over at Miranda, who felt plenty of pain from the way her fist was still clenching. It must have shown in her face because the nurse turned back to Andrea and said quietly. “Alright. But make sure she sees a doctor.” Andrea reached out to squeeze the woman’s shoulder briefly and nodded. “Thank you. I will.”
Once the nurse was out of sight Miranda felt her arm drop to her lap and she groaned in relief when she slowly unrolled her fingers. Well, her hand certainly had mood swings, its disobedience seemed to come and go at random intervals. The editor rubbed her aching palm and sighed. She needed to get out of the office. Away from people. Maybe it was a good thing that the girls were gone tonight. The mere thought of scaring, or hurting them constricted her lungs and made her shudder.
She stood up quickly and brushed through the door, however, before she could say anything, Andrea had already jumped to retrieve her purse and trench coat from the closet. She offered them with a sweet smile and Miranda paused for a moment. After all the craziness that had just happened in her office, this girl was still doing her job, no questions asked. That was true loyalty and Miranda wasn’t sure if she had ever experienced that before.
She accepted her things with the left hand, turning her right shoulder away from her assistant, just to make sure. Once she was fully dressed, she regarded Andrea for a moment before she lowered her voice to a whisper. “Thank you, Andrea.”
The assistant’s eyes widened briefly at the unusual word’s coming from her boss’ lips, but she quickly nodded. “No problem, Miranda. I really do hope that you are okay.” The girl’s smile moved something inside of the editor. Andrea was honestly concerned and did not simply assume that she had lost her mind or harboured dishonorable intentions. Miranda realized her trust in the girl was not misplaced.
Before she had time to react, she felt her right hand snake up from behind her back and fly toward Andrea’s cheek. They both let out a startled gasp, but the contact was soft and gentle and the warmth of the quickly flushing skin tingled in Miranda’s palm. “Oh god, I’m so sorry,” the older woman whispered while she tried to remove her hand. “That damn hand does these things on its own. I can’t control it.” She was blushing furiously.
Andrea gave her a strange look but did not reply. Instead she reached for the hand and slowly removed it. How did she do that? Miranda was convinced she herself could not control that hand and she tried to wriggle out of Andrea’s grasp. She did not succeed and was surprised when the girl easily dropped the arm back to the editor’s side. “Goodnight, Miranda,” she said softly and walked back to sit behind her desk, busying herself with typing on the computer.
The editor was gobsmacked, but tried to keep her face even. Miranda Priestly understood everything, all the time. And if she didn’t, then it probably was something inanely uninteresting, so why bother. However, the conundrum of her kamikaze arm actually made her doubt her own sanity. She gave a slight nod and quickly walked toward the elevator, not daring to look back.
On her way down to the lobby she realized that beyond anything she hoped that things would not get damaged between her and her assistant. She wasn’t sure she could face the next day if Andrea decided to leave her over this.
The journey to her town house was spent sitting on her hand in the back of her Mercedes. Just as a precaution, of course. She wouldn’t want that damn appendage to open the door in the middle of the freeway or fling itself at her driver.
As soon as Miranda had closed the front door of her home behind her, she took a deep breath and slumped against the wall. She was tired and hungry and nothing made any sense. She hung up her coat and bag and made her way to the kitchen. Because of the girls’ night away she had allowed the cook a night off and toyed with the idea of making a small omelet. She swung open the fridge and let her eyes travel across the shelves. Mustard, French cheese, champagne, lettuce, Greenfield Beef, a bucket of tiramisu, diet soda, organic tomatoes...
Wait a second. Her right hand had clamped itself around the tiramisu and was pulling it out of the fridge. “For crying out loud!” She groaned into the empty kitchen.
Fine! Whatever! She slammed the fridge door closed and went to find a spoon. If her hand wanted tiramisu, it would get tiramisu. She was too tired and frustrated to fight it. The editor moved to the sitting room and lowered herself into her favourite chair, as elegantly as she could manage with a giant bucket of fat and carbs clutched in her right hand. She snorted at the ridiculous situation and removed the lid.
As she sat in her chair, licking the coffee, cream and alcohol off the spoon in her Chanel suit, it finally sunk in that she had touched Andrea today. Three times, no less. And her only concern had been whether the girl had minded. The question, whether she herself had disliked the contact, had never even come up.
Taking another spoonful of the dessert, she felt her lips curl up slightly. Maybe she was having an adrenaline crash, or her mouth had decided to run amok as well. Reveling in the strange glow that swept up inside of her, Miranda realized that she did not mind.
Chapter 4...