VOCALISE - CHAPTER 11
Title: Vocalise
Rating: NC-17 (MATURE!!!)(NSFW) :-O
Warning: Established character death. T__T
Pairing: Andy/Miranda
Length: 9400 words (this chapter)
Prompt: based on a prompt by amles80
Summary: A/U - Miranda is a choral director and Andy is a journalist who enjoys singing. Miranda has a painful past and Andy has to learn to believe in herself. Miranda is 47, Andy is 26 in this story.
Disclaimer: I don’t own The Devil Wears Prada.
Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10
A/N: Okay, so the stuff in Andy’s parents’ past wasn’t something I had originally planned, but someone very close to me has gone through the same thing, and we’ve just recently talked about it and I wanted to add it to the story because it serves as a serious bond between Miranda and Anne. I hope the rest of the chapter makes up for the sadness because I had a really hard time writing the scene where Andy finds out...
Chapter 11
“Andrea”
Luscious warmth lured Andy into consciousness. She was incredibly comfortable and felt a sleepy grin stretch over her lips as she deeply inhaled the sweet and unmistakable scent of Miranda. She slid her arms around the warm, naked body lying curled against hers under the sheets, and gave a little purr when she shuffled closer and nuzzled the soft skin below the older woman’s shoulder.
“Andrea.”
Hmmm. Something wasn’t quite right. Miranda didn’t caress her name the way she usually did when they woke up together. The conductor’s body was rigid and Andy could hear the violent thump of her heartbeat. A stiff hand briefly squeezed her shoulder, and suddenly Andy understood.
Turning her head away from Miranda and into the general direction of the door, she slowly blinked open her eyes. Her chest hurting from the brutal hammering of her own heart, she allowed her sight to focus on the figure in front of her bed.
“Uhm... hi, Dad,” she squeaked.
Richard Sachs stood stiffly in the dawn-lit room, barefoot in his striped pyjamas and holding a pile of clothes to his chest. It appeared as if he had stopped in mid-motion, one foot in front of the other, and his cheeks were colouring a particularly dark shade of ruby.
“I-I’m sorry, Andy. I was on my way to the...” he raised an arm to wave halfheartedly at the door on the other side of the bedroom, “uhm... shower.”
The brunette propped herself up on her elbows and the motion caused the bedsheets to ride down and expose hers and Miranda’s bare shoulders. Her father immediately averted his gaze and she quickly pulled the sheets back up and around her neck.
“Uhm, Dad, it’s alright. Go ahead. We’ll... uhm... we’ll get dressed.”
He nodded, but didn’t dare send another glance in his daughter’s direction, and then bolted the few remaining feet toward the bathroom. He quickly slipped inside and shut the door with a quiet ‘click’.
“Oh my god!” Andy groaned into her palms as she lay her head back down on the pillow. “That did not just happen!”
“How could you forget that your parents would need to walk through here to reach the bathroom?” Miranda hissed in a whisper, nervously eyeing the door that led to the rest of the apartment.
“Well, I was kind of distracted,” the brunette mumbled as she quickly slipped from the bed and tiptoed to the dresser below the covered indoor window to pull out boy shorts and an old t-shirt. She turned to the conductor while struggling to slip on the short pants as gracefully as possible. The older woman watched her with a mixture of amusement and awe.
“What?” Andy asked with a slight frown, her upper body still bare, the t-shirt dangling from her fingers.
“I’m strangely torn between attraction and revulsion. Boy shorts! Really, Andrea,” Miranda sniffed, but allowed a crooked smirk. “Although I can’t say that I’m not enjoying the view.”
The brunette put on a fake pout and turned her hips to show her behind. “But it’s Snoopy! Look! And I only wear these for sleeping.”
The conductor raised an eyebrow but kept her eyes rested on the soft bounce of Andy’s naked chest.
“Well, okay, maybe not recently. But I can’t go out there,” the younger woman waved in the general direction of the living room, “wearing that camisole from last night.”
Miranda hummed at the memory and Andy quickly pulled the t-shirt over her head. She then leaned down and picked up her bathrobe to hand it to the older woman.
“Here, put this on before my mom decides to wander in as well.”
The conductor eyed the blue cloth with unrestrained disdain and didn’t show any sign of reaching for it.
“Please, Miranda,” Andy begged and lay the robe across the bed. “If Dad’s awake and spooking around, that means mom is already up as well.” She looked around the room until she found a scrunchy and began to tie her hair. “She’s probably in the kitchen, making coffee.”
At that Miranda grabbed the robe and within seconds she was out of the bed and had most of her nudity covered by the fuzzy, blue fabric. Andy grinned.
“When I was little we had a Jack Russel terrier named Petey, and he was very lazy.” Miranda looked at her with narrowed eyes that said ‘why on earth would you bore me with anecdotes at such a time?’. Not letting the older woman bully her, Andy smiled back sweetly and continued.
“You know, he lay around the house all day, doing absolutely nothing. Until, that is, we said his magic word, ‘outside’. When he’d hear that, he’d jump up and go totally berserk, with his little tail wagging at a hundred miles an hour.” She stepped closer to the skeptical conductor and wrapped her arms securely around the older woman’s hips. “I think your magic word might be ‘coffee’.”
Miranda pursed her lips but the slight tug of an involuntary smirk turned it into more of a defiant pout. “Andrea, I am certainly NOT wagging my tail.” She regarded the brunette for a while with steely eyes, but then her gaze softened and she reached up at an attempt to fix Andy’s unruly morning hair. “And I think, anything coming from your mouth...,” she bit her lower lip and looked deep into the brunette’s eyes, “... is magic.”
Lost in their little moment they were about to kiss, when the sound of the shower turning on reminded them that they had company. Andy sweetly stroked Miranda’s cheek with her thumb and then slid her hand into the conductor’s palm to pull her toward the door.
“Come on. Let’s go and get you your coffee.”
Her mother was indeed rummaging around the kitchen, dressed in a long-sleeved, white nightgown, while the coffee maker gurgled happily away on the counter.
“Morning, Mom”, Andy said, pulling Miranda closer toward the small, round table.
“Morning, Sweetie,” Mrs. Sachs answered while prodding at a loose hinge on one of the olive cabinet doors, her back to Andy. “You should really let Richard fix this. It could come off, and before you know it, the whole door will fall on your head.”
“She has a point,” the conductor spoke softly, but loud enough for Anne to hear. Andy watched her mother spin around in surprise and accidentally knock one of the cups, that sat waiting on the counter top, into the sink.
“Oh.”
“My apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Miranda’s tone was calm and polite, and Andy knew that the conductor was testing the grounds.
“No... that... that’s alright,” Mrs. Sachs said while self-consciously running a hand through her hair and tugging at her nightgown. “I just wasn’t aware that Andrea had... a visitor.”
Andy let go of the conductor’s hand and walked over to her mom to give her a quick hug.
“Sorry about that, Mom. Miranda came back very late last night, and we didn’t want to wake you.” She picked the fallen cup from the sink and then turned to face both women.
“So, uhm... maybe we should do this again. Properly, this time.” She felt a bit embarrassed and knew that her cheeks were most likely a bright pink. Fidgeting with the hem of her t-shirt she regarded her mother.
“Mom, please meet Miranda. Conductor, musical genius...” She glanced over at the silver-haired woman. “... and the love of my life.”
The sparkle in Miranda’s eyes sent a burst of warmth directly to her heart and she couldn’t help the large, silly grin that erupted on her lips.
Mrs. Sachs took a deep breath and then stepped forward with a hesitant smile. She extended her hand to the other woman. “Nice to meet you, Miranda.”
With a matching, careful smile of her own, the conductor grasped and shook the offered hand. “The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Sachs.”
“Please, call me Anne.”
“Very well, Anne.”
They let go of each other’s hand and then stood quietly in their slightly awkward, new-found civility. Andy watched them for a moment, attempting to wrap her head around the scene of her mom, dressed in a rather old-fashioned nightgown, and Miranda, wearing Andy’s over-sized bathrobe, staring at each other without the earlier malice.
She grabbed one of the cups from the counter and cleared her throat.
“Uhm. The coffee is ready.”
------
Miranda slowly lowered the cup and savoured the bitter brew before it soothingly made its way down her throat. It wasn’t the usual, expensive Italian espresso, or a Starbucks double shot, but it was strong and scalding, and it kept her grounded while she sat across the table from Anne Sachs.
Andrea had taken her turn in the bathroom and Mr. Sachs, upon seeing the two older women seated at the small kitchen table, had opted to go out for the Sunday paper, leaving Miranda alone with Anne.
“So,” Mrs. Sachs began after a few silent minutes. “My daughter told me about... your loss.” She looked up at the conductor, eyes shining. “My deepest sympathies.”
The defensive mechanisms inside Miranda immediately kicked into gear and she felt the blood drain from her face. Was this the reason Andrea’s parents acted friendly toward her now? Pitty?! Did they feel sorry for her? Did they believe their daughter had taken on a charity case? She gripped the cup in her hands so tightly that the tips of her fingers began to hurt.
She was about to lash out when a sad smile appeared on the other woman’s lips, and the apparent pain caused the conductor’s anger to quickly subside.
“Andrea doesn’t know this.” Mrs. Sachs began, hands fidgeting and her gaze resting on her own coffee cup. “We had another daughter, Alexandra.” The past tense stabbed at Miranda’s heart and she felt her own eyes burn. “She was only four weeks when she passed away. The doctors said it was sudden infant death syndrome, or as they call it, ‘crib death’, and we never found out what exactly had happened...”
Some of Miranda’s own pain resurfaced as she remembered the agony of losing Cassidy and her heart ached for Andrea’s parents.
“I’m very sorry,” she said quietly, not sure enough of herself to reach across the table and squeeze Mrs. Sachs’ hand.
“Thank you. It was thirty years ago, and Richard and I are alright now. We had Andrea four years after, and she made a lot of the pain go away. Nevertheless, it still hurts... sometimes.” Anne looked up from her coffee. “But it helps to tell someone who understands what if feels like to lose a child.”
Miranda nodded solemnly.
A silence heavy with memories and a soothing sense of companionship settled over them, and they continued to quietly sip at their coffee until they heard Andrea return from the bedroom. Knowing both older women rather well, the brunette quickly picked up on the laden air and walked around the table to stand behind the Miranda.
“Is everything alright?” She asked while gently stroking the back of the conductor’s neck.
Miranda closed her eyes and leaned into the touch. The knowledge that Andrea had no idea about her older sister constricted her chest, and she reached up to pull the younger woman’s arm down and across her shoulder. A soft cheek, smelling of soap and moisturiser slid against her own, and Andrea fully wrapped herself around the conductor, hugging her tightly.
“We’re fine, Darling,” Miranda whispered into the journalist’s neck.
Mrs. Sachs rose from her chair and smoothed her nightgown. “I think I will take a shower now, if that is okay.”
“Of course. Please go ahead.” Miranda smiled and watched as Anne collected clothes from one of the large suitcases by the sofa bed and then disappeared into the bathroom.
“Are you really alright, Miranda?” The brunette whispered softly while tenderly rubbing the conductor’s stomach.
“Yes, Darling. Your mother and I bonded, believe it or not.” She slid her arms down to still the sensuous movements of the younger woman’s hands and cleared her throat. “Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this here. Right now. Especially after the the way we woke up.” She snorted elegantly. “Come sit and have some coffee.”
Andrea sweetly pressed her lips against the older woman’s cheek and then straightened and walked over to the counter to get a cup. Miranda couldn’t help but appreciate the way the solid black jeans hugged the younger woman’s curves. Although she preferred tailored designer clothes for herself, Miranda knew that Andrea could not afford anything that wasn’t off the rack.
Nevertheless, the red and grey striped ESPRIT cardigan fell playfully over the brunette’s hips, tempting the conductor to walk over and slip her hands under the thin cotton. When Andrea turned around, steaming cup in hand, her eyes met Miranda’s, and upon deciphering the look in the older woman’s gaze, sent her a radiant grin.
“My parents’ flight leaves at two-fifteen.” Andrea informed her while slowly walking back toward the table, her eyes resting on the conductor’s cleavage where it peeked out from underneath bathrobe. “If we drop them off early enough we will still have some time before choir rehearsal.”
Raising her eyebrows in amusement, Miranda answered the younger woman’s mischievous smile and used her bare foot to push out the chair to her left. Andrea got the hint and sat down, shuffling closer and whispering, “Hey there, Beautiful.”
“Oh please Andrea, I haven’t had a shower yet, my make-up has half disappeared and my hair must look a true catastrophe,” Miranda rambled.
The journalist quietly set her cup on the table and then leaned in so close that her breath ghosted across the older woman’s lips.
“Miranda, you’re absolutely, breathtakingly gorgeous,” She whispered in a mixture of mint flavor toothpaste and coffee. “Your eyes sparkle in the mornings, as if still entranced by the stars of night. The lines on your face are soft and calm, and your hair...” Andrea fluttered her lids closed and hummed with a crooked smile on her lips. “Your hair,” she opened her eyes again and looked into bottomless blues. “... is one of the sexiest things about you. Dishevelled like this, it looks like you’ve just been beautifully and thoroughly...” the brunette leaned even closer and rested her burning cheek against Miranda’s, whispering the last word barely audibly, “... fucked.”
The sweetness of Andrea’s voice, coupled with the hushed vulgarity, burned through the conductor’s chest and sunk slow and thick like warm caramel down toward her lower abdomen. She grabbed at the younger woman’s hips and with a few pulls and tugs maneuvered Andrea onto her lap.
The brunette straddled her and wrapped her arms loosely around the conductor’s middle, joining their foreheads and lovingly rubbing their noses together. Miranda allowed her hands to rest on the younger woman’s buttocks and tilted her chin to briefly kiss those delicious lips before pulling away far enough to sincerely gaze into Andrea’s chocolate eyes.
“Sometimes the simple fact that you exist threatens to break my heart.”
She didn’t really understand how the words had escaped her, but as she felt the faint ghosts of them echo in her head, she realised that they were truth. Andrea was a wonder to her. An angel who had been sent down from the heavens to find and complete her. How somebody so kind and tender could not only exist, but choose her, of all people to be with, was a mystery and Miranda was content to live on without ever attempting to solve it.
The warmth in the brunette’s eyes reached out to her, engulfing her in radiant happiness and making her feel safe and loved.
“Miranda...”
Smooth hands gently held on to her face and guided their lips together in a kiss that tasted of unconditional trust, desire and an eternity of love. Their tongues mirrored the slow, sensual waves of bodies tightly slung together in a hungry embrace. Andrea’s fingers wandered through the conductor’s hair, sweetly massaging the scalp and pulling Miranda even closer.
Heart racing from the surge of heat to her centre at the possessive gesture, the older woman moaned into the kiss, causing the brunette to respond with a grinding tilt of her hips against the suddenly all-too-hot fabric of the bathrobe. Miranda’s hands had found their way under Andrea’s cardigan and the thin cotton shirt she wore underneath, and were now slipping down the smooth, warm back and toward the waistband of the journalist’s panties.
Just as her index finger slipped down into the vale between the soft mounds of flesh, and Andrea responded with the sexiest of moans, they heard the sound of keys in the front door. Eyes big with shock the younger woman launched off Miranda, pulling down her askew top and half stumbling into the chair behind her, knocking over her coffee in the process.
“Shit shit shit!”
Miranda couldn’t contain the laughter that bubbled up from deep inside her. It released all the tension that had built up during the past few days, and she had to hold her stomach as the images of a dumbstruck Mr. Sachs in the door, and a pouting Andrea, staring at her in disbelief, became blurry.
------
Andy leaned back in her chair and studied the interior of the French bistro Miranda had recommended for their brunch. It was a small, cozy place with long oak tables and padded chairs, a large collection of art nouveau paintings and many black and white photographs of Paris. Soft music and the smell of freshly baked baguette filled the air, and the general crowd was calm and sophisticated.
“This place is very nice, Miranda,” Mrs. Sachs told the conductor. “It feels just like in Paris.”
Miranda allowed a gentle smile and nodded. “Yes, I thought you might like it. The owner is a Frenchman who used to work at the conservatory. He’s an old teacher and friend of mine.”
Mr. and Mrs. Sachs looked impressed.
“Is there anything on the menu you would recommend?” Richard asked.
“The quiche Lorraine may sound simple but it’s one of their specialties. The soup du jour is quite popular and,” Miranda turned to Andy with a ghost of a smirk that only the brunette could see, “The hazelnut-chocolate paste and mango crêpes are usually a great success with children.”
Andy’s eyes widened and she grabbed one of the menus to look at the options. “They have real Nutella! Okay, I’m done.” She closed the menu and grinned at the conductor who dramatically rolled her eyes but still had an insistent tug at the corners of her mouth.
“Oh, there’s the waiter already, and I haven’t picked yet,” Andy’s mom indicated behind the other two women’s shoulders and began to frantically browse through the menu.
A bad faux-French accent drifted up from behind them. “Bonjour and welcome to Jacques’ Bistro! I’ll be your... fuck!”
All four guests jerked up their heads at the swear, and Andy found herself staring into the burning gaze of Nate.
“Well, isn’t that a surprise?” Miranda spoke from the brunette’s left and immediately placed a hand on Andy’s thigh under the table. Whether it was meant to be reassuring or possessive, the younger woman couldn’t say, but it felt good.
“N-nate. Since when do you work here?” Andy stammered, her rapid pulse hammering wildly in her ears.
“Since November. If you had paid attention to anyone beside her,” he pointed a stubby finger at the conductor, “you would have maybe noticed a thing or two about your friends.”
“Friends?” Miranda’s voice was icy and dangerously low, and the sound of it, combined with the firm grip of her hand on Andy’s thigh, sent pulses of red heat down the brunette’s spine. “You still consider yourself Andrea’s friend after the way you treated her?”
“Keep out of this, Old Lady!” Nate hissed and crossed his arms, staring wildly down at Andy. “I can’t believe you just show up here. With her!”
The blood in Andy’s veins began to boil. Nobody insulted Miranda and got away with it!. She tensed, like a spring ready to explode, but suddenly her father interrupted her silent countdown of rage.
“Excuse me, young man,” Mr. Sachs cleared his throat and stood. “You will not talk to my daughter, or her girlfriend like that. Apologise at once.”
My girlfriend... The words echoed through Andy in soothing ripples that smoothed over her anger like warm, melted chocolate. She hadn’t used that particular designation for Miranda yet. It didn’t really fit, because there was nothing ‘girly’ about Miranda, and it seemed inadequate for describing how much the conductor meant to the brunette. However, hearing it from her father’s lips made it clear that he had accepted the older woman in his daughter’s life, and the fact that he defended them both filled Andy with pride and love.
Realising he was in front of Andy’s parents, Nate appeared speechless for a moment. Seeing the brunette and Miranda at a table with Mom and Dad seemed to make the situation more real to him and he dropped his arms in defeat.
“Miranda, is everything alright over here?” The head waiter had appeared behind Nate and eyed the scene with suspicion.
“Bonjour Gustave,” The conductor greeted him in flawless sounding French. She appeared to consider the situation, thoughtfully eyeing the brunette, who silently begged for Miranda to not use her connections to get Nate into trouble. Andy knew that if she had any hopes of working things out with Nate, sabotaging his gastronomic career would be a wrong move.
“Yes, everything is alright.” Miranda nodded for Richard to sit back down and then, with a calculated look directed at Nate she added. “How’s Jacques?”
“Father is doing good. Thank you for asking.” Gustave smiled at the conductor.
“That’s good to hear. Please send him my regards.”
“I will.” And with a final, polite nod Gustave walked away again.
Andy sat in a kind of trance, watching the exchange with detachment, as if it were a movie and she was comfortably seated on her living room couch, wondering about the random strangeness of this foreign film. The gentle squeeze of Miranda’s fingers on her leg pulled her back to reality and she closed her eyes and allowed a deep sigh, before turning to Nate. The young man still stood speechless beside the table, probably realising that, by the conductor’s mercy alone, did he remain employed.
“Nate, look...” Andy began, pulling his attention from an undefined spot on the far wall back to her. “Miranda and I are a couple. That won’t change.” She reached for his hand but he pulled away. “I miss you as my friend. I don’t want things to be weird between us.”
The emotions were visible on his face and he clearly struggled to make up his mind.
“Please, Nate.” The brunette pleaded.
After another short moment he combed through his curls and then straightened his shoulders.
“Alright.” He sent her a timid smile that clearly still burned him, and then faced Mr. and Mrs. Sachs. “I apologise for my behavior.”
“Thank you.” Andy smiled at him and then relaxed back into her chair, slowly loosening the tight grip she’d had on the conductor’s hand under the table.
Nate remained civil for the remainder of their stay and the fact that Gustave kept hovering close-by reassured Andy that their food would not be spit on or otherwise suffer from any lingering anger. Miranda lightened the mood with casual conversation about Paris and Europe, and the brunette had a hard time imagining that the conductor had spent most of the past five years in seclusion. Her social skills were impeccable.
By the end of the meal her parents were thoroughly charmed and Andy swooned slightly at the dreamy way Miranda talked about France. The many excitements of the morning and her interrupted intimate moments with the conductor were taking their toll on her resolve and she knew she needed to be alone with the older woman soon.
------
Miranda sighed in frustration. It was quarter to three and they were on their way to the community centre. After dropping off Andrea’s parents at the airport they had wanted to rush back to the older woman’s apartment for a quick ‘nap’, but a road accident and subsequent traffic jam had thwarted their plans. The result was that both of them were on edge and fighting hard to keep their hands off each other in the confined space of the car.
“What did Mom say to you before we left?” The brunette asked while Miranda shifted gears, earning her a hard swallow from the younger woman. The conductor was well aware of the effect of her, driving the Porsche, had on Andrea, and she would have found it highly amusing, had she not been incredibly frustrated with the situation herself.
“Actually, she asked me to take good care of you.” She said softly, letting her lips linger in the ‘u’ shape as she eyed the brunette through lowered lids.
“Take care of me?” the younger woman asked with a wiggle of her eyebrows.
“Andrea please be serious!” Miranda scowled. “Any more suggestive teasing and I will have to pull over right here and have my unrestrained way with you on these five thousand dollar leather seats.”
One look to her side and at the furiously blushing younger woman told her that she shouldn’t have said that. Andrea whimpered and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. They remained silent as they approached the community centre’s car park, and the stillness seemed to pull them closer together with invisible threads of their longing.
Miranda had to concentrate on parking, a job she could do in her sleep under normal circumstances, but the wild throb between her thighs and the fact that in less than ten minutes they were expected inside the auditorium put a lot of extra pressure on the normally cool conductor.
With a victorious grunt she finally pulled the handbrake, turned off the engine and unlocked herself from the seat in a graceful flurry, before practically flinging herself, in a very cat-like manner, across the younger woman. Hungry lips found hers and as they kissed Miranda slowly loosened the seat belt Andrea was still wearing. Releasing the delicious mouth for only a few seconds, she slipped underneath the flat strip of nylon, straddling the brunette with her knees and allowing the seat belt to re-tightened and press them even closer together.
The younger woman’s surprised groan sent a jolt of fire to the conductor’s abdomen and she latched back onto Andrea’s lips with explosive need. A quick fumble with the seat controls had them recline slightly backward and Miranda rhythmically pushed herself against the ablaze body below hers, using the tightened seat belt around her lower back for added strength.
Andrea’s hands slipped skillfully under her skirt and up her outer thighs as their tongues fought a laguid battle for dominance. Their chests pushed together, joining their two heartbeats into one single pulse that washed through them like the seductive bass of a jazz tune, and the rustle of clothing, their hushed moans and the heavy breathing through their noses reverberated off the low car roof like a swaying melody.
All the conductor could focus on were the hands so greedily cupping her butt and the wonderful sensation of Andrea’s tongue claiming her mouth as thoroughly as the younger woman was, no doubt, about to claim other parts of her body as well. Miranda didn’t care that they were in a car, in a parking lot where practically anyone could catch them. The burning need to feel Andrea enter her overwrote all logic and reason, and she roughly grabbed at the brunette’s teasing fingers and attempted to push them down between her legs.
The sudden flash of head lights swimming briefly through the interior of the Porsche alerted them, and the resulting rush of adrenaline caused Miranda to quickly sit up. Unfortunately, the seat belt abruptly stopped her movement and cut painfully into her side.
“Fuck!” She hissed uncharacteristically and fumbled with the release button, when a blood-red Ashton Martin pulled up beside them. She managed to free herself and swiftly shuffled back into her seat where she sat for a few seconds, trying to catch her breath and smoothing down her skirt.
Andrea looked a complete, but incredibly sexy mess lying in the lowered seat. Her hair was mussed, her cheeks were flushed red like candy apples and her baby pink lip gloss and the ruby shade of Miranda’s lipstick had mixed and were smeared together in a vivid testament to their frantic kisses. Rich, dark eyes, full of lust burned into the conductor’s soul and she had to swallow hard to keep herself from reaching over and continuing where they had just left off.
The door of the red sports car slammed shut and covering her own, kiss-stained lips with one hand, Miranda politely returned the hand wave of the short man, and watched as he set the car alarm and then disappeared into the building. With a noisily exhaled sigh of relief the conductor lay her head back against the neck rest and turned toward Andrea.
“That was Irv, but I don’t think he saw you.” She reached forward to put the brunette’s messy bangs in order and noticed that the younger woman was still having a hard time composing herself.
“I don’t...” Andrea closed her eyes and pushed both hands against her chest in an attempt to calm her heart, “I don’t think I can handle any more interruptions, Miranda.” The desperate look in her eyes clawed at the older woman’s chest and Miranda halfheartedly attempted to wipe at the smudged redness around Andrea’s lips, before leaning forward and pressing a sweet kiss to the swollen mouth.
After their lips had parted again she remained close and cupped the younger woman’s cheeks. “I know, Darling. Me either. We will just have to wait until tonight, okay?”
With a defeated nod Andrea straightened the car seat and then retrieved her purse to start fixing her make-up. Miranda proceeded to do the same and they managed to arrive at the auditorium without any remaining traces of their little adventure, and only five minutes late.
------
Concentrating on singing was a welcome distraction for Andy and she managed to block out her libido and fully let herself be submerged in the sea of voices. Miranda’s idea of mixing the choir around really seemed to work, and although a few singers momentarily got confused, they soon settled in the enhanced beauty of the rich, full sound.
They spent another hour on the “Kyrie for the Magdalene”, before the conductor instructed Emily to hand out the set-lists for the ‘Choir Off’. The preliminary rounds were still eight weeks away, but Miranda had made it clear that they would need to work very hard to earn their chance to shine at the finals.
Andy accepted the sheet of paper from the silent redhead and noticed the uncharacteristic lack of malice in Emily’s face. It was actually completely blank. From the very beginning of their acquaintance the Briton had not passed up a single opportunity of hurling spiteful remarks at the brunette, and it was disconcerting to now watch as the redhead wandered off without even acknowledging Andy’s presence with a sneer.
“What’s with her?” the journalist whispered to Lily, whose position in the choir was now right behind her.
“Beats me.”
“Andrea,” Miranda’s cool voice forced the brunette’s head back around. “Please cease your idle chatter and pay attention.” The commanding tone made certain parts of Andy’s body clench and she pressed her lips together in the hope that she didn’t blush too furiously. The conductor’s face gave nothing away but the intense look she briefly sent at the journalist rekindled those fires Andy had hoped were under control by now.
“Now, if you look at the pieces I have chosen for the preliminary rounds, you will see that there are only two more songs for us to go through.” Miranda began her customary pacing in front of the singers as she continued. “However, do not mistake that for an invitation to become careless, and to underestimate the work required to master these songs. I expect all of you,” she let her gaze travel over every single person, and when her eyes found Andy, she briefly licked her upper lip, “... to do your utter best. That’s all.”
Soon the men and women scrambled off the stage and Andy joined her friends by their coats and bags. Her and Miranda had agreed to meet back at the car, but walk there separately, and the conductor had already left the auditorium.
“Thanks for coming back, Lily. I really missed you.”
“No problem. So you’re sure you don’t have time to hang out?” Her friend asked with a tilt to her head.
“Sorry, Lily. There’s something I need to do.” Andy said regretfully. She did truly miss hanging out with her friends, but some things simply had priority.
“You mean there’s someone you need to do.” Doug grinned and then ducked skillfully away from the brunette’s flying hand.
“Dougie!” She huffed and then pouted playfully. “No, actually, we’re going somewhere else first. And it’s important. So, I’m sorry, but I gotta go. Another time, okay?”
She kissed both their cheeks and then dashed up the carpeted slope and through the door.
Miranda was already waiting inside the Porsche and Andy slipped into the passenger seat with a heavy sigh.
“You’re evil, Miranda. You nearly killed me up there!”
“You’re the one to talk... With your angelic face and that blissful expression when you sing,” the older woman smirked and the brunette couldn’t help but smile back. The love she felt for the conductor was overwhelming, raw and pure. It sent a happy warmth through her chest and at the same time caused the pleasant tickle of goosebumps to ripple all over her arms and legs.
Unable to help herself she leaned over to gently kiss the older woman’s cheek. Her hand found Miranda’s and she tenderly entwined their fingers, looking up and drowning in azure eyes.
“Are you ready?” The conductor whispered while tucking a few stray hairs behind the brunette’s ear.
“Yes. Let’s go.”
They pulled out of the car park and began the ride in silence, their somber destination subduing the lustful tension between them.
Andy felt honored that Miranda trusted her enough to take her to see Cassidy. She knew the pain inside the conductor - she had seen it and they had talked about it a great deal - however it was still very different to actually accompany Miranda to visit her daughter’s grave.
They left the car near the cemetery gates and Andy followed the conductor into the small flower shop behind the main entrance. While they stood in front of the counter and waited for the requested flower bouquet to be prepared, they remained at a respectable distance from each other. It was something they had agreed on, early in their relationship. They wouldn’t publicly show affection until after the choral competition.
Miranda was holding her wallet in front of her chest and stood stiffly and expression-less, her eyes focused on nothing in particular. The moss green velvet coat hung lifelessly from her slightly slumped shoulders, and there was a devious lock of hair that had separated from the customary curly and hung cheekily above the older woman’s right eye. Andy wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around Miranda, pull her close and force all the bad memories away from the conductor’s heart. She wanted to tenderly brush the silver hair back in order and plant sweet kisses on those sad cheeks.
As if reading her mind, the older woman suddenly turned her head and studied Andy, before slowly extending her arm and offering her hand.
“Come here.”
Those two simple words reassured the journalist that Miranda and her were one. They knew each other so well, could practically feel every emotion the other experienced, and it created such a strong bond between them that would enable them to overcome pretty much any obstacle ever laid in their path.
She slipped her fingers into the waiting hand and allowed the older woman to pull her closer. They now stood shoulder to shoulder and a soft thumb began stroking Andy’s palm, causing a tightness in the brunette’s chest that threatened to bring tears.
The store clerk returned from the backroom with a bouquet of pink lilies and Miranda briefly withdrew her hand to pay, before thanking the old man, reclaiming her hold on Andy and gently tugging the brunette back outside.
The sound of gravel crunching under the weight of their feet accompanied their silence, as they walked along the main path between row upon row of headstones. Andy had never been on a cemetery before and she felt oddly drawn to the otherworldly serenity that lay over the graves. Miranda had tightened her grip and their joined hands swung between them with every step they took.
“Andrea,” the conductor began softly, her voice testing and strangely hesitant. “Your mother did not just ask me to take good care of you.”
I knew it. ”What, did she threaten you? Did she say something mean?” The brunette was instantly ready to defend Miranda against anything her mother might have flung her way.
“No.” The older woman stopped walking and turned to face Andy. “No, Darling. Nothing like that.” Andy recognised great sadness in Miranda’s gaze and her heart sank because she knew that the sorrow she had witnessed in the conductor’s face earlier wasn’t just for Cassidy, but something else entirely.
“Miranda... what is it. Please tell me.” Andy tried hard not to panic as the older woman pulled her closer and began stroking her cheek.
“You know the talk I had with your mother this morning, when you came back from your shower?” The brunette nodded. “Well, she had confided in me with something that was too hard for her to tell you herself, and when we said goodbye this afternoon, she asked me to do it for her.” There was definite wetness shimmering from Miranda’s eyes in the dim light from the rusty light poles that lined the path, and Andy felt her own eyes burn in return.
“Miranda, you’re scaring me,” she whispered.
“Oh Darling. It’s alright, it’s in the past. But I think it’s something you should know.” She tenderly pressed her lips to the younger woman’s forehead before pulling away far enough to lovingly look into her eyes.
“Andrea, you had an older sister.”
Andy’s entire body suddenly went still and it felt as if even her blood had stopped flowing. Sorrow gripped at the corners of her mouth, forcing her jaw open and heavy tears violently began spilling from her lashes.
“W-what?” She croaked, barely audible.
“She died when she was only four weeks old, and her name was Alexandra.” Miranda whispered gently as she pulled the sobbing young woman closer. Andy had no strength in her arms to return the embrace and her hands just rested loosely between their bodies, unable to move.
“When...?”
“Four years before you were born.” The older woman began to gently rock Andy in her arms and as the feeling in her limbs returned, the brunette gingerly reached around Miranda and locked her arms against the conductor as tightly as she could, completely succumbing to sobs. Images of what it would have been like to grow up with a sister flashed before her, and she remembered how lonely she had always felt and how pained the expression on her parents’ faces had been when she had, in her childish naivety, requested a sibling to play with.
They stood together in the middle of the dimly-lit path, on the otherwise deserted cemetery, and as if on cue the wind picked up and ghosted stray leaves around their ankles. Andy shivered and attempted to crawl deeper into the embrace, burying her wet face against the soft wool of the Christmas scarf, the symbol of hers and Miranda’s love. She took a shaky breath and tried to relax as the older woman traced gentle circles across her upper back.
“Shhh, it’s alright, my Darling.”
The brunette sniffled and slowly pulled away to look into Miranda’s beautiful face. “You know... it explains a few things.”
Tenderly wiping at the tears on Andy’s reddened cheeks the conductor nodded. “I thought it might.”
“When I told her a-about Cassidy,” the younger woman hiccuped as she tried to even out her breathing, “... there was something... it felt as if Mom wanted to say something... But then she didn’t.”
“Yes. I tried to persuade her to tell you herself, but I guess it’s too difficult to take that step after such a long time of keeping secrets.” Miranda’s eyes were warm and full of understanding. “However you are welcome to ask her about it, now that you know.” Andy nodded and then took a deep, steadying breath.
“Thank you. For telling me.”
Standing in the cold winter wind, under the first few stars of the evening, with such sudden sorrow lain across her heart, felt surreal and strangely poetic, and Andy realised that Miranda holding her tightly, in this warm embrace of love and trust, was the most beautiful thing she had ever experienced.
It was this very moment that she understood that they were true soul mates. Two people, who had found each other in the midst of the enormous, thorn-ridden forest called ‘Life’. Two people, who had disregarded technicalities of age and gender and had immediately connected on the deepest of levels, reaching out toward one another, across the countless red ribbons that fate had spun around them.
It brought fresh tears to her eyes and she pressed forward to cling to Miranda once more, inhaling her scent and letting go of everything else but them.
“I love you so much, Miranda...” she whispered against the conductor’s temple. “Words seem so inadequate...”
The older woman squeezed back so tightly that it nearly hurt, but Andy would have gladly offered a few cracked ribs.
“I love you, too, Darling.”
They pulled away, and relinking their hands they continued their walk toward Cassidy’s resting place.
------
Andrea leaned loosely against Miranda’s shoulder as the older woman fumbled with the lock of her apartment. They were still holding hands, making it rather difficult to open the door, but after a few more seconds the conductor managed and they stepped inside.
As Miranda switched on the lights, the brunette dropped her overnight bag on the hallway floor and then turned to fully wrap her arms around the older woman. Miranda kissed Andrea’s temple and whispered, “Tired?”
“Nuh-uh. I just felt cuddly,” the younger woman replied sheepishly and then briefly rubbed their noses together before pulling away and offering a shy grin.
Miranda returned the smile and slipped out of her heels. “Come on, let’s eat and then we can cuddle all night.”
After removing the rest of their outer wear, they padded into the kitchen, hand-in-hand, and the conductor opened the fridge.
“Oh wow. What happened here?” Andrea asked as she stood behind Miranda and rested her chin lightly on the conductor’s shoulder, studying the fully stocked shelves.
“Since I will have a hungry teenage monster living with me soon,” the older woman paused for a moment, choosing her next words carefully, “... and I’m hoping to have you and your Tardis-like stomach around as often as possible, I thought should be prepared.”
The soft giggle next to her ear felt like a homecoming, and she leaned back into the embrace as Andrea snaked her arms around her waist and grabbed at something in the vegetable drawer.
“Do you mind if I make us a salad? It’s quick and light.”
Miranda smiled and turned her head to kiss the brunette’s cheek. “No, I don’t mind. Go ahead, Darling.” She then stepped away and leaned against the kitchen table, watching as the younger woman began chopping up carrots, romaine lettuce and Roma tomatoes. Andrea worked in silence but there was definite communication going on between the two of them. Mainly between the conductor’s eyes and the brunette’s backside.
A lot of her earlier arousal and blind, physical need had been blocked out during their visit to Cassidy’s grave, and now it lay deep inside of her, brooding away in a half-slumber, waiting to finally be released. Andrea was definitely teasing when she tasted the homemade Caesar dressing by languidly sucking on her finger and looking at Miranda through lowered lids.
As they ate, their feet found each other under the table and began a quiet dance up and down the other’s calves. Soon they were no longer eating, and the conductor reached across their still half full plates to capture the brunette’s hand in her own.
“Come,” she whispered, and the slight shiver that rippled through Andrea at the sound of her seductive voice, caused a silly grin to form on the conductor’s lips.
They stood and Miranda gently pulled the younger woman down the hall and into the master bathroom where she let go of her hand in order to adjust the water taps of the claw-foot bathtub. She then watched as Andrea’s eyes slowly glazed over and the brunette subconsciously licked her lips. The action fully awoke any festering desires that might still have been hibernating in the depths of Miranda’s soul, and with renewed need she moved forward and slowly began undressing the brunette.
She lingered on every single button of Andrea’s cardigan, making sure the warmth of her fingertips penetrated through the thin layers of cotton and caused the younger woman to close her eyes with a sigh. After slipping the striped garment off shaky shoulders she tugged at the plain white shirt and deftly pulled it over the brunette’s head.
Andrea stood before her unmoved, her large, brown eyes full of trust and love. Miranda reached down and slowly unbuttoned the black jeans, revealing inch after inch of cotton briefs that matched the baby blue of the younger woman’s bra. She gently tugged down the pants and assisted the brunette with stepping out of them, taking the socks off as well.
The beautiful sight of the love of her life standing before her in nothing but underwear, chest heaving, cheeks flushed, and eyes shining with so many different, delicious things, curled itself around the conductor’s heart and she had difficulty breathing. Andrea just waited patiently until the older woman’s fingers found their way to the clasp of her bra, freeing the soft mounds from confinement and divesting the garment on the pile of discarded clothing, before travelling lower and sliding under the waistband of her briefs. When Miranda slid down the final piece of clothing she picked up the clear scent of the younger woman’s arousal and she had stop herself from having her fill of Andrea there and then.
Instead she held out her hand to guide the brunette toward the tub. After the younger woman had lowered herself into the water and sat amid the puffs of foam, staring lustfully back at the conductor, Miranda began to strip off her own clothing. Piece after piece fell onto the floor, and the awed gulps and adorable sighs from Andrea ensured that by the time Miranda removed her underwear, she was thoroughly wet.
The blatant way the brunette feasted her eyes on her bare body made the conductor feel slightly self-conscious and she hurried to step into the bath and settle behind Andrea.
When the younger woman slid back and in between her parted thighs, they both hummed at the intimate contact. The heat of the water buzzed every single one of her muscles into a state of bliss and she gently pulled Andrea closer against herself, allowing the younger woman’s back to lie heavily against her chest.
“Hmmm, this is so nice...,” Andrea sighed as she let her head roll back onto Miranda’s shoulder.
The conductor chuckled. “Darling, this is just the preparation stage.”
Andrea’s resulting throaty laugh vibrated through Miranda’s chest and she reached for a sponge, applied some body soap, and began lathering up the younger woman’s arms and shoulders. Andrea hummed contently as the conductor meticulously washed every part of the brunette’s body, making a special effort around the luscious breasts and in between the thighs, before using the sponge on herself. The younger woman turned around and their eyes remained locked as Miranda guided the sponge between her own legs, gazing lovingly at Andrea while the softness brushed against her center.
They didn’t speak when the older woman stepped from the tub and wrapped an over-sized towel, first around herself, and then around Andrea, before she assisted the slightly shivering brunette out of the tub. So many emotions rushed through Miranda as she began to tenderly dry off Andrea. She wanted to cherish this beautiful angel, to make her feel loved and show her how much she meant to the conductor. At the same time, Miranda could barely contain the blind need that commanded her to rip off the towel and push Andrea’s soft body against the tiled wall in a frenzy.
The mutual gaze that connected them became too intense and before Miranda could even react, Andrea’s lips were on hers, warm and pliant, abruptly setting the conductor’s whole body on fire. The older woman knew that if they didn’t move now, they would never make it into bed, so she gently pushed the brunette backward until they found themselves in the adjoining room.
Her body humming with anticipation, Miranda broke the kiss and stepped away, drowning in the younger woman’s glazed-over eyes. Soon the towels had fallen to the floor and the conductor took Andrea by the hand and pushed her onto the silken bed sheet. She wanted to take it slow, worship every inch of the brunette, but her own body screamed at her to ravish Andrea, who gazed up at where Miranda knelt. She was so torn between her conflicting desires that tears welled up in her eyes and she lay down next to the younger woman, burying her face in the luscious, dark hair.
“Miranda, are you okay?” Andrea asked sweetly.
“Yes... I just want you so much...” she breathed hotly against the brunette’s neck. “... that I don’t know where to begin.” She curled into Andrea’s warm body and pulled the younger woman close.
------
Andy’s heart burst at the older woman’s admission and she slung her arms and legs tightly around Miranda, pressing them deliciously together from head to toe.
She sighed and then, with strength born from desire, flipped the conductor onto her back. The flush to the older woman’s cheeks was clearly visible under the soft bedroom lights and Andy slowly trailed her fingers along Miranda’s arms while sitting up and straddling the older woman around the middle. Her eyes never leaving the conductor’s, she gently brought one of Miranda’s hands to her mouth, and pressed open-mouthed kisses into the palm.
“I love your hands. Your beautiful hands...” she murmured against the supple skin and then slowly trailed her lips lower until they pressed against the pulse point just below the wrist. When she began to greedily suck at the sensitive skin there, Miranda squirmed and lowered her lids with a moan.
“Andrea...”
The brunette smiled, allowing her teeth to graze against the protruding tendons, which sent a wave of shivers through the older woman. She continued to suckle at the soft skin, slowly moving her lips along the inside of Miranda’s arm, across the smooth shoulder and toward her neck. She spent long minutes kissing, licking and sucking the conductor’s throat, communicating her day full of frustrated desires with her mouth.
“Oh god, Andrea...” the older woman moaned, the sound traveling from her skin directly onto Andy’s lips, where it tickled and caused another smile. Miranda’s hands roamed freely across the brunette’s back and Andy had some difficulty keeping her focus.
She lazily slid lower, planting sweet kisses on the conductor’s collar bone and the soft expanse of her upper chest, until her mouth finally closed around a stiffened nipple, eliciting a delightful cry from Miranda.
Andy’s tongue danced tenderly over the little peak, molding around every little bump and ridge, pressing rhythmically against the flesh as it rose and fell with each suction. The older woman’s hands had freed Andy’s hair from its ponytail by now and languidly stroked through the dark strands, as she hummed and moaned her appraisal.
“Hmmm, Darling...”
Andy was in complete and utter bliss. Miranda’s responses were truly exquisite and if she didn’t have bigger plans, she would have lingered there longer. However, she was still too far away from her ultimate goal, and after a few more kisses, and with a sense of regret she released the reddened mounds and moved further down.
This was her treasure, her gift to claim. Miranda readily offered herself, arching up as Andy settled between her legs. The brunette wanted to communicate through her touch, from one body to another, that Miranda was the single most important entity in the universe to her. She tenderly slid her hands under the older woman’s thighs pulling her up and toward her.
She leaned forward, revelling in the clean and distinct smell of the love of her life. It was so intimate and beautiful that her heart ached, and with a lust-drunk smile on her lips she extended her tongue and took one full, long lick. Miranda arched off the mattress as Andy began to worship her body with determination. The brunette had to hold on to the hips that rose greedily against her, and as she opened her mouth and pressed the slick muscle further and past the barrier, smooth thighs closed around her ears in an almost painful crash.
Miranda seemed to dance with each command of the younger woman’s tongue; a slave to the skillful mouth that had declared her a goddess and was now consuming her in sweet prayer. The room was filled with the older woman’s incoherent chanting and the gentle smacking noises of Andy’s ministrations, and as the brunette thrust deeper into Miranda, she realised that now she was the conductor, playing a symphony on the older woman’s body, that was at her complete and utter mercy.
A possessive need overtook her, and her movements became firmer and more precise, sending Miranda into a spiral of frantic movement and a chorus of unbridled moans. With the risk of suffocation, Andy allowed her nose to press firmly into the older woman’s flesh and she felt Miranda come undone.
Everything around her hummed in sweet spasms as the beautiful woman beneath her lips floated off the bed in silent bliss, before slowly crashing back down into the mussed, silken sheets. A final flood bathed Andy’s tongue and mouth and she drank hungrily, as if Miranda was the fabled well of the Water of Life itself.
Weakened fingers began grabbing at her shoulders and with a last kiss to the delicious softness, the brunette allowed herself to be pulled upward and into waiting arms. The frantic hammering of Miranda’s heartbeat and both their laboured breathing was the only sound for a while, until the older woman hummed against Andy’s throat and squeezed her tightly.
“I have no words...” Her raspy chuckle travelled down Andy’s spine like hot cocoa. “Oh my god...”
“Miranda, I love you. Forever.” The brunette sighed dreamily into the damp, silver hair and felt herself drift off into content slumber while Miranda planted a sweet kiss on her shoulder.
“I love you too, my Andrea. Always.”
------
To be continued....
Rating: NC-17 (MATURE!!!)(NSFW) :-O
Warning: Established character death. T__T
Pairing: Andy/Miranda
Length: 9400 words (this chapter)
Prompt: based on a prompt by amles80
Summary: A/U - Miranda is a choral director and Andy is a journalist who enjoys singing. Miranda has a painful past and Andy has to learn to believe in herself. Miranda is 47, Andy is 26 in this story.
Disclaimer: I don’t own The Devil Wears Prada.
Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10
A/N: Okay, so the stuff in Andy’s parents’ past wasn’t something I had originally planned, but someone very close to me has gone through the same thing, and we’ve just recently talked about it and I wanted to add it to the story because it serves as a serious bond between Miranda and Anne. I hope the rest of the chapter makes up for the sadness because I had a really hard time writing the scene where Andy finds out...
Chapter 11
“Andrea”
Luscious warmth lured Andy into consciousness. She was incredibly comfortable and felt a sleepy grin stretch over her lips as she deeply inhaled the sweet and unmistakable scent of Miranda. She slid her arms around the warm, naked body lying curled against hers under the sheets, and gave a little purr when she shuffled closer and nuzzled the soft skin below the older woman’s shoulder.
“Andrea.”
Hmmm. Something wasn’t quite right. Miranda didn’t caress her name the way she usually did when they woke up together. The conductor’s body was rigid and Andy could hear the violent thump of her heartbeat. A stiff hand briefly squeezed her shoulder, and suddenly Andy understood.
Turning her head away from Miranda and into the general direction of the door, she slowly blinked open her eyes. Her chest hurting from the brutal hammering of her own heart, she allowed her sight to focus on the figure in front of her bed.
“Uhm... hi, Dad,” she squeaked.
Richard Sachs stood stiffly in the dawn-lit room, barefoot in his striped pyjamas and holding a pile of clothes to his chest. It appeared as if he had stopped in mid-motion, one foot in front of the other, and his cheeks were colouring a particularly dark shade of ruby.
“I-I’m sorry, Andy. I was on my way to the...” he raised an arm to wave halfheartedly at the door on the other side of the bedroom, “uhm... shower.”
The brunette propped herself up on her elbows and the motion caused the bedsheets to ride down and expose hers and Miranda’s bare shoulders. Her father immediately averted his gaze and she quickly pulled the sheets back up and around her neck.
“Uhm, Dad, it’s alright. Go ahead. We’ll... uhm... we’ll get dressed.”
He nodded, but didn’t dare send another glance in his daughter’s direction, and then bolted the few remaining feet toward the bathroom. He quickly slipped inside and shut the door with a quiet ‘click’.
“Oh my god!” Andy groaned into her palms as she lay her head back down on the pillow. “That did not just happen!”
“How could you forget that your parents would need to walk through here to reach the bathroom?” Miranda hissed in a whisper, nervously eyeing the door that led to the rest of the apartment.
“Well, I was kind of distracted,” the brunette mumbled as she quickly slipped from the bed and tiptoed to the dresser below the covered indoor window to pull out boy shorts and an old t-shirt. She turned to the conductor while struggling to slip on the short pants as gracefully as possible. The older woman watched her with a mixture of amusement and awe.
“What?” Andy asked with a slight frown, her upper body still bare, the t-shirt dangling from her fingers.
“I’m strangely torn between attraction and revulsion. Boy shorts! Really, Andrea,” Miranda sniffed, but allowed a crooked smirk. “Although I can’t say that I’m not enjoying the view.”
The brunette put on a fake pout and turned her hips to show her behind. “But it’s Snoopy! Look! And I only wear these for sleeping.”
The conductor raised an eyebrow but kept her eyes rested on the soft bounce of Andy’s naked chest.
“Well, okay, maybe not recently. But I can’t go out there,” the younger woman waved in the general direction of the living room, “wearing that camisole from last night.”
Miranda hummed at the memory and Andy quickly pulled the t-shirt over her head. She then leaned down and picked up her bathrobe to hand it to the older woman.
“Here, put this on before my mom decides to wander in as well.”
The conductor eyed the blue cloth with unrestrained disdain and didn’t show any sign of reaching for it.
“Please, Miranda,” Andy begged and lay the robe across the bed. “If Dad’s awake and spooking around, that means mom is already up as well.” She looked around the room until she found a scrunchy and began to tie her hair. “She’s probably in the kitchen, making coffee.”
At that Miranda grabbed the robe and within seconds she was out of the bed and had most of her nudity covered by the fuzzy, blue fabric. Andy grinned.
“When I was little we had a Jack Russel terrier named Petey, and he was very lazy.” Miranda looked at her with narrowed eyes that said ‘why on earth would you bore me with anecdotes at such a time?’. Not letting the older woman bully her, Andy smiled back sweetly and continued.
“You know, he lay around the house all day, doing absolutely nothing. Until, that is, we said his magic word, ‘outside’. When he’d hear that, he’d jump up and go totally berserk, with his little tail wagging at a hundred miles an hour.” She stepped closer to the skeptical conductor and wrapped her arms securely around the older woman’s hips. “I think your magic word might be ‘coffee’.”
Miranda pursed her lips but the slight tug of an involuntary smirk turned it into more of a defiant pout. “Andrea, I am certainly NOT wagging my tail.” She regarded the brunette for a while with steely eyes, but then her gaze softened and she reached up at an attempt to fix Andy’s unruly morning hair. “And I think, anything coming from your mouth...,” she bit her lower lip and looked deep into the brunette’s eyes, “... is magic.”
Lost in their little moment they were about to kiss, when the sound of the shower turning on reminded them that they had company. Andy sweetly stroked Miranda’s cheek with her thumb and then slid her hand into the conductor’s palm to pull her toward the door.
“Come on. Let’s go and get you your coffee.”
Her mother was indeed rummaging around the kitchen, dressed in a long-sleeved, white nightgown, while the coffee maker gurgled happily away on the counter.
“Morning, Mom”, Andy said, pulling Miranda closer toward the small, round table.
“Morning, Sweetie,” Mrs. Sachs answered while prodding at a loose hinge on one of the olive cabinet doors, her back to Andy. “You should really let Richard fix this. It could come off, and before you know it, the whole door will fall on your head.”
“She has a point,” the conductor spoke softly, but loud enough for Anne to hear. Andy watched her mother spin around in surprise and accidentally knock one of the cups, that sat waiting on the counter top, into the sink.
“Oh.”
“My apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Miranda’s tone was calm and polite, and Andy knew that the conductor was testing the grounds.
“No... that... that’s alright,” Mrs. Sachs said while self-consciously running a hand through her hair and tugging at her nightgown. “I just wasn’t aware that Andrea had... a visitor.”
Andy let go of the conductor’s hand and walked over to her mom to give her a quick hug.
“Sorry about that, Mom. Miranda came back very late last night, and we didn’t want to wake you.” She picked the fallen cup from the sink and then turned to face both women.
“So, uhm... maybe we should do this again. Properly, this time.” She felt a bit embarrassed and knew that her cheeks were most likely a bright pink. Fidgeting with the hem of her t-shirt she regarded her mother.
“Mom, please meet Miranda. Conductor, musical genius...” She glanced over at the silver-haired woman. “... and the love of my life.”
The sparkle in Miranda’s eyes sent a burst of warmth directly to her heart and she couldn’t help the large, silly grin that erupted on her lips.
Mrs. Sachs took a deep breath and then stepped forward with a hesitant smile. She extended her hand to the other woman. “Nice to meet you, Miranda.”
With a matching, careful smile of her own, the conductor grasped and shook the offered hand. “The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Sachs.”
“Please, call me Anne.”
“Very well, Anne.”
They let go of each other’s hand and then stood quietly in their slightly awkward, new-found civility. Andy watched them for a moment, attempting to wrap her head around the scene of her mom, dressed in a rather old-fashioned nightgown, and Miranda, wearing Andy’s over-sized bathrobe, staring at each other without the earlier malice.
She grabbed one of the cups from the counter and cleared her throat.
“Uhm. The coffee is ready.”
------
Miranda slowly lowered the cup and savoured the bitter brew before it soothingly made its way down her throat. It wasn’t the usual, expensive Italian espresso, or a Starbucks double shot, but it was strong and scalding, and it kept her grounded while she sat across the table from Anne Sachs.
Andrea had taken her turn in the bathroom and Mr. Sachs, upon seeing the two older women seated at the small kitchen table, had opted to go out for the Sunday paper, leaving Miranda alone with Anne.
“So,” Mrs. Sachs began after a few silent minutes. “My daughter told me about... your loss.” She looked up at the conductor, eyes shining. “My deepest sympathies.”
The defensive mechanisms inside Miranda immediately kicked into gear and she felt the blood drain from her face. Was this the reason Andrea’s parents acted friendly toward her now? Pitty?! Did they feel sorry for her? Did they believe their daughter had taken on a charity case? She gripped the cup in her hands so tightly that the tips of her fingers began to hurt.
She was about to lash out when a sad smile appeared on the other woman’s lips, and the apparent pain caused the conductor’s anger to quickly subside.
“Andrea doesn’t know this.” Mrs. Sachs began, hands fidgeting and her gaze resting on her own coffee cup. “We had another daughter, Alexandra.” The past tense stabbed at Miranda’s heart and she felt her own eyes burn. “She was only four weeks when she passed away. The doctors said it was sudden infant death syndrome, or as they call it, ‘crib death’, and we never found out what exactly had happened...”
Some of Miranda’s own pain resurfaced as she remembered the agony of losing Cassidy and her heart ached for Andrea’s parents.
“I’m very sorry,” she said quietly, not sure enough of herself to reach across the table and squeeze Mrs. Sachs’ hand.
“Thank you. It was thirty years ago, and Richard and I are alright now. We had Andrea four years after, and she made a lot of the pain go away. Nevertheless, it still hurts... sometimes.” Anne looked up from her coffee. “But it helps to tell someone who understands what if feels like to lose a child.”
Miranda nodded solemnly.
A silence heavy with memories and a soothing sense of companionship settled over them, and they continued to quietly sip at their coffee until they heard Andrea return from the bedroom. Knowing both older women rather well, the brunette quickly picked up on the laden air and walked around the table to stand behind the Miranda.
“Is everything alright?” She asked while gently stroking the back of the conductor’s neck.
Miranda closed her eyes and leaned into the touch. The knowledge that Andrea had no idea about her older sister constricted her chest, and she reached up to pull the younger woman’s arm down and across her shoulder. A soft cheek, smelling of soap and moisturiser slid against her own, and Andrea fully wrapped herself around the conductor, hugging her tightly.
“We’re fine, Darling,” Miranda whispered into the journalist’s neck.
Mrs. Sachs rose from her chair and smoothed her nightgown. “I think I will take a shower now, if that is okay.”
“Of course. Please go ahead.” Miranda smiled and watched as Anne collected clothes from one of the large suitcases by the sofa bed and then disappeared into the bathroom.
“Are you really alright, Miranda?” The brunette whispered softly while tenderly rubbing the conductor’s stomach.
“Yes, Darling. Your mother and I bonded, believe it or not.” She slid her arms down to still the sensuous movements of the younger woman’s hands and cleared her throat. “Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this here. Right now. Especially after the the way we woke up.” She snorted elegantly. “Come sit and have some coffee.”
Andrea sweetly pressed her lips against the older woman’s cheek and then straightened and walked over to the counter to get a cup. Miranda couldn’t help but appreciate the way the solid black jeans hugged the younger woman’s curves. Although she preferred tailored designer clothes for herself, Miranda knew that Andrea could not afford anything that wasn’t off the rack.
Nevertheless, the red and grey striped ESPRIT cardigan fell playfully over the brunette’s hips, tempting the conductor to walk over and slip her hands under the thin cotton. When Andrea turned around, steaming cup in hand, her eyes met Miranda’s, and upon deciphering the look in the older woman’s gaze, sent her a radiant grin.
“My parents’ flight leaves at two-fifteen.” Andrea informed her while slowly walking back toward the table, her eyes resting on the conductor’s cleavage where it peeked out from underneath bathrobe. “If we drop them off early enough we will still have some time before choir rehearsal.”
Raising her eyebrows in amusement, Miranda answered the younger woman’s mischievous smile and used her bare foot to push out the chair to her left. Andrea got the hint and sat down, shuffling closer and whispering, “Hey there, Beautiful.”
“Oh please Andrea, I haven’t had a shower yet, my make-up has half disappeared and my hair must look a true catastrophe,” Miranda rambled.
The journalist quietly set her cup on the table and then leaned in so close that her breath ghosted across the older woman’s lips.
“Miranda, you’re absolutely, breathtakingly gorgeous,” She whispered in a mixture of mint flavor toothpaste and coffee. “Your eyes sparkle in the mornings, as if still entranced by the stars of night. The lines on your face are soft and calm, and your hair...” Andrea fluttered her lids closed and hummed with a crooked smile on her lips. “Your hair,” she opened her eyes again and looked into bottomless blues. “... is one of the sexiest things about you. Dishevelled like this, it looks like you’ve just been beautifully and thoroughly...” the brunette leaned even closer and rested her burning cheek against Miranda’s, whispering the last word barely audibly, “... fucked.”
The sweetness of Andrea’s voice, coupled with the hushed vulgarity, burned through the conductor’s chest and sunk slow and thick like warm caramel down toward her lower abdomen. She grabbed at the younger woman’s hips and with a few pulls and tugs maneuvered Andrea onto her lap.
The brunette straddled her and wrapped her arms loosely around the conductor’s middle, joining their foreheads and lovingly rubbing their noses together. Miranda allowed her hands to rest on the younger woman’s buttocks and tilted her chin to briefly kiss those delicious lips before pulling away far enough to sincerely gaze into Andrea’s chocolate eyes.
“Sometimes the simple fact that you exist threatens to break my heart.”
She didn’t really understand how the words had escaped her, but as she felt the faint ghosts of them echo in her head, she realised that they were truth. Andrea was a wonder to her. An angel who had been sent down from the heavens to find and complete her. How somebody so kind and tender could not only exist, but choose her, of all people to be with, was a mystery and Miranda was content to live on without ever attempting to solve it.
The warmth in the brunette’s eyes reached out to her, engulfing her in radiant happiness and making her feel safe and loved.
“Miranda...”
Smooth hands gently held on to her face and guided their lips together in a kiss that tasted of unconditional trust, desire and an eternity of love. Their tongues mirrored the slow, sensual waves of bodies tightly slung together in a hungry embrace. Andrea’s fingers wandered through the conductor’s hair, sweetly massaging the scalp and pulling Miranda even closer.
Heart racing from the surge of heat to her centre at the possessive gesture, the older woman moaned into the kiss, causing the brunette to respond with a grinding tilt of her hips against the suddenly all-too-hot fabric of the bathrobe. Miranda’s hands had found their way under Andrea’s cardigan and the thin cotton shirt she wore underneath, and were now slipping down the smooth, warm back and toward the waistband of the journalist’s panties.
Just as her index finger slipped down into the vale between the soft mounds of flesh, and Andrea responded with the sexiest of moans, they heard the sound of keys in the front door. Eyes big with shock the younger woman launched off Miranda, pulling down her askew top and half stumbling into the chair behind her, knocking over her coffee in the process.
“Shit shit shit!”
Miranda couldn’t contain the laughter that bubbled up from deep inside her. It released all the tension that had built up during the past few days, and she had to hold her stomach as the images of a dumbstruck Mr. Sachs in the door, and a pouting Andrea, staring at her in disbelief, became blurry.
------
Andy leaned back in her chair and studied the interior of the French bistro Miranda had recommended for their brunch. It was a small, cozy place with long oak tables and padded chairs, a large collection of art nouveau paintings and many black and white photographs of Paris. Soft music and the smell of freshly baked baguette filled the air, and the general crowd was calm and sophisticated.
“This place is very nice, Miranda,” Mrs. Sachs told the conductor. “It feels just like in Paris.”
Miranda allowed a gentle smile and nodded. “Yes, I thought you might like it. The owner is a Frenchman who used to work at the conservatory. He’s an old teacher and friend of mine.”
Mr. and Mrs. Sachs looked impressed.
“Is there anything on the menu you would recommend?” Richard asked.
“The quiche Lorraine may sound simple but it’s one of their specialties. The soup du jour is quite popular and,” Miranda turned to Andy with a ghost of a smirk that only the brunette could see, “The hazelnut-chocolate paste and mango crêpes are usually a great success with children.”
Andy’s eyes widened and she grabbed one of the menus to look at the options. “They have real Nutella! Okay, I’m done.” She closed the menu and grinned at the conductor who dramatically rolled her eyes but still had an insistent tug at the corners of her mouth.
“Oh, there’s the waiter already, and I haven’t picked yet,” Andy’s mom indicated behind the other two women’s shoulders and began to frantically browse through the menu.
A bad faux-French accent drifted up from behind them. “Bonjour and welcome to Jacques’ Bistro! I’ll be your... fuck!”
All four guests jerked up their heads at the swear, and Andy found herself staring into the burning gaze of Nate.
“Well, isn’t that a surprise?” Miranda spoke from the brunette’s left and immediately placed a hand on Andy’s thigh under the table. Whether it was meant to be reassuring or possessive, the younger woman couldn’t say, but it felt good.
“N-nate. Since when do you work here?” Andy stammered, her rapid pulse hammering wildly in her ears.
“Since November. If you had paid attention to anyone beside her,” he pointed a stubby finger at the conductor, “you would have maybe noticed a thing or two about your friends.”
“Friends?” Miranda’s voice was icy and dangerously low, and the sound of it, combined with the firm grip of her hand on Andy’s thigh, sent pulses of red heat down the brunette’s spine. “You still consider yourself Andrea’s friend after the way you treated her?”
“Keep out of this, Old Lady!” Nate hissed and crossed his arms, staring wildly down at Andy. “I can’t believe you just show up here. With her!”
The blood in Andy’s veins began to boil. Nobody insulted Miranda and got away with it!. She tensed, like a spring ready to explode, but suddenly her father interrupted her silent countdown of rage.
“Excuse me, young man,” Mr. Sachs cleared his throat and stood. “You will not talk to my daughter, or her girlfriend like that. Apologise at once.”
My girlfriend... The words echoed through Andy in soothing ripples that smoothed over her anger like warm, melted chocolate. She hadn’t used that particular designation for Miranda yet. It didn’t really fit, because there was nothing ‘girly’ about Miranda, and it seemed inadequate for describing how much the conductor meant to the brunette. However, hearing it from her father’s lips made it clear that he had accepted the older woman in his daughter’s life, and the fact that he defended them both filled Andy with pride and love.
Realising he was in front of Andy’s parents, Nate appeared speechless for a moment. Seeing the brunette and Miranda at a table with Mom and Dad seemed to make the situation more real to him and he dropped his arms in defeat.
“Miranda, is everything alright over here?” The head waiter had appeared behind Nate and eyed the scene with suspicion.
“Bonjour Gustave,” The conductor greeted him in flawless sounding French. She appeared to consider the situation, thoughtfully eyeing the brunette, who silently begged for Miranda to not use her connections to get Nate into trouble. Andy knew that if she had any hopes of working things out with Nate, sabotaging his gastronomic career would be a wrong move.
“Yes, everything is alright.” Miranda nodded for Richard to sit back down and then, with a calculated look directed at Nate she added. “How’s Jacques?”
“Father is doing good. Thank you for asking.” Gustave smiled at the conductor.
“That’s good to hear. Please send him my regards.”
“I will.” And with a final, polite nod Gustave walked away again.
Andy sat in a kind of trance, watching the exchange with detachment, as if it were a movie and she was comfortably seated on her living room couch, wondering about the random strangeness of this foreign film. The gentle squeeze of Miranda’s fingers on her leg pulled her back to reality and she closed her eyes and allowed a deep sigh, before turning to Nate. The young man still stood speechless beside the table, probably realising that, by the conductor’s mercy alone, did he remain employed.
“Nate, look...” Andy began, pulling his attention from an undefined spot on the far wall back to her. “Miranda and I are a couple. That won’t change.” She reached for his hand but he pulled away. “I miss you as my friend. I don’t want things to be weird between us.”
The emotions were visible on his face and he clearly struggled to make up his mind.
“Please, Nate.” The brunette pleaded.
After another short moment he combed through his curls and then straightened his shoulders.
“Alright.” He sent her a timid smile that clearly still burned him, and then faced Mr. and Mrs. Sachs. “I apologise for my behavior.”
“Thank you.” Andy smiled at him and then relaxed back into her chair, slowly loosening the tight grip she’d had on the conductor’s hand under the table.
Nate remained civil for the remainder of their stay and the fact that Gustave kept hovering close-by reassured Andy that their food would not be spit on or otherwise suffer from any lingering anger. Miranda lightened the mood with casual conversation about Paris and Europe, and the brunette had a hard time imagining that the conductor had spent most of the past five years in seclusion. Her social skills were impeccable.
By the end of the meal her parents were thoroughly charmed and Andy swooned slightly at the dreamy way Miranda talked about France. The many excitements of the morning and her interrupted intimate moments with the conductor were taking their toll on her resolve and she knew she needed to be alone with the older woman soon.
------
Miranda sighed in frustration. It was quarter to three and they were on their way to the community centre. After dropping off Andrea’s parents at the airport they had wanted to rush back to the older woman’s apartment for a quick ‘nap’, but a road accident and subsequent traffic jam had thwarted their plans. The result was that both of them were on edge and fighting hard to keep their hands off each other in the confined space of the car.
“What did Mom say to you before we left?” The brunette asked while Miranda shifted gears, earning her a hard swallow from the younger woman. The conductor was well aware of the effect of her, driving the Porsche, had on Andrea, and she would have found it highly amusing, had she not been incredibly frustrated with the situation herself.
“Actually, she asked me to take good care of you.” She said softly, letting her lips linger in the ‘u’ shape as she eyed the brunette through lowered lids.
“Take care of me?” the younger woman asked with a wiggle of her eyebrows.
“Andrea please be serious!” Miranda scowled. “Any more suggestive teasing and I will have to pull over right here and have my unrestrained way with you on these five thousand dollar leather seats.”
One look to her side and at the furiously blushing younger woman told her that she shouldn’t have said that. Andrea whimpered and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. They remained silent as they approached the community centre’s car park, and the stillness seemed to pull them closer together with invisible threads of their longing.
Miranda had to concentrate on parking, a job she could do in her sleep under normal circumstances, but the wild throb between her thighs and the fact that in less than ten minutes they were expected inside the auditorium put a lot of extra pressure on the normally cool conductor.
With a victorious grunt she finally pulled the handbrake, turned off the engine and unlocked herself from the seat in a graceful flurry, before practically flinging herself, in a very cat-like manner, across the younger woman. Hungry lips found hers and as they kissed Miranda slowly loosened the seat belt Andrea was still wearing. Releasing the delicious mouth for only a few seconds, she slipped underneath the flat strip of nylon, straddling the brunette with her knees and allowing the seat belt to re-tightened and press them even closer together.
The younger woman’s surprised groan sent a jolt of fire to the conductor’s abdomen and she latched back onto Andrea’s lips with explosive need. A quick fumble with the seat controls had them recline slightly backward and Miranda rhythmically pushed herself against the ablaze body below hers, using the tightened seat belt around her lower back for added strength.
Andrea’s hands slipped skillfully under her skirt and up her outer thighs as their tongues fought a laguid battle for dominance. Their chests pushed together, joining their two heartbeats into one single pulse that washed through them like the seductive bass of a jazz tune, and the rustle of clothing, their hushed moans and the heavy breathing through their noses reverberated off the low car roof like a swaying melody.
All the conductor could focus on were the hands so greedily cupping her butt and the wonderful sensation of Andrea’s tongue claiming her mouth as thoroughly as the younger woman was, no doubt, about to claim other parts of her body as well. Miranda didn’t care that they were in a car, in a parking lot where practically anyone could catch them. The burning need to feel Andrea enter her overwrote all logic and reason, and she roughly grabbed at the brunette’s teasing fingers and attempted to push them down between her legs.
The sudden flash of head lights swimming briefly through the interior of the Porsche alerted them, and the resulting rush of adrenaline caused Miranda to quickly sit up. Unfortunately, the seat belt abruptly stopped her movement and cut painfully into her side.
“Fuck!” She hissed uncharacteristically and fumbled with the release button, when a blood-red Ashton Martin pulled up beside them. She managed to free herself and swiftly shuffled back into her seat where she sat for a few seconds, trying to catch her breath and smoothing down her skirt.
Andrea looked a complete, but incredibly sexy mess lying in the lowered seat. Her hair was mussed, her cheeks were flushed red like candy apples and her baby pink lip gloss and the ruby shade of Miranda’s lipstick had mixed and were smeared together in a vivid testament to their frantic kisses. Rich, dark eyes, full of lust burned into the conductor’s soul and she had to swallow hard to keep herself from reaching over and continuing where they had just left off.
The door of the red sports car slammed shut and covering her own, kiss-stained lips with one hand, Miranda politely returned the hand wave of the short man, and watched as he set the car alarm and then disappeared into the building. With a noisily exhaled sigh of relief the conductor lay her head back against the neck rest and turned toward Andrea.
“That was Irv, but I don’t think he saw you.” She reached forward to put the brunette’s messy bangs in order and noticed that the younger woman was still having a hard time composing herself.
“I don’t...” Andrea closed her eyes and pushed both hands against her chest in an attempt to calm her heart, “I don’t think I can handle any more interruptions, Miranda.” The desperate look in her eyes clawed at the older woman’s chest and Miranda halfheartedly attempted to wipe at the smudged redness around Andrea’s lips, before leaning forward and pressing a sweet kiss to the swollen mouth.
After their lips had parted again she remained close and cupped the younger woman’s cheeks. “I know, Darling. Me either. We will just have to wait until tonight, okay?”
With a defeated nod Andrea straightened the car seat and then retrieved her purse to start fixing her make-up. Miranda proceeded to do the same and they managed to arrive at the auditorium without any remaining traces of their little adventure, and only five minutes late.
------
Concentrating on singing was a welcome distraction for Andy and she managed to block out her libido and fully let herself be submerged in the sea of voices. Miranda’s idea of mixing the choir around really seemed to work, and although a few singers momentarily got confused, they soon settled in the enhanced beauty of the rich, full sound.
They spent another hour on the “Kyrie for the Magdalene”, before the conductor instructed Emily to hand out the set-lists for the ‘Choir Off’. The preliminary rounds were still eight weeks away, but Miranda had made it clear that they would need to work very hard to earn their chance to shine at the finals.
Andy accepted the sheet of paper from the silent redhead and noticed the uncharacteristic lack of malice in Emily’s face. It was actually completely blank. From the very beginning of their acquaintance the Briton had not passed up a single opportunity of hurling spiteful remarks at the brunette, and it was disconcerting to now watch as the redhead wandered off without even acknowledging Andy’s presence with a sneer.
“What’s with her?” the journalist whispered to Lily, whose position in the choir was now right behind her.
“Beats me.”
“Andrea,” Miranda’s cool voice forced the brunette’s head back around. “Please cease your idle chatter and pay attention.” The commanding tone made certain parts of Andy’s body clench and she pressed her lips together in the hope that she didn’t blush too furiously. The conductor’s face gave nothing away but the intense look she briefly sent at the journalist rekindled those fires Andy had hoped were under control by now.
“Now, if you look at the pieces I have chosen for the preliminary rounds, you will see that there are only two more songs for us to go through.” Miranda began her customary pacing in front of the singers as she continued. “However, do not mistake that for an invitation to become careless, and to underestimate the work required to master these songs. I expect all of you,” she let her gaze travel over every single person, and when her eyes found Andy, she briefly licked her upper lip, “... to do your utter best. That’s all.”
Soon the men and women scrambled off the stage and Andy joined her friends by their coats and bags. Her and Miranda had agreed to meet back at the car, but walk there separately, and the conductor had already left the auditorium.
“Thanks for coming back, Lily. I really missed you.”
“No problem. So you’re sure you don’t have time to hang out?” Her friend asked with a tilt to her head.
“Sorry, Lily. There’s something I need to do.” Andy said regretfully. She did truly miss hanging out with her friends, but some things simply had priority.
“You mean there’s someone you need to do.” Doug grinned and then ducked skillfully away from the brunette’s flying hand.
“Dougie!” She huffed and then pouted playfully. “No, actually, we’re going somewhere else first. And it’s important. So, I’m sorry, but I gotta go. Another time, okay?”
She kissed both their cheeks and then dashed up the carpeted slope and through the door.
Miranda was already waiting inside the Porsche and Andy slipped into the passenger seat with a heavy sigh.
“You’re evil, Miranda. You nearly killed me up there!”
“You’re the one to talk... With your angelic face and that blissful expression when you sing,” the older woman smirked and the brunette couldn’t help but smile back. The love she felt for the conductor was overwhelming, raw and pure. It sent a happy warmth through her chest and at the same time caused the pleasant tickle of goosebumps to ripple all over her arms and legs.
Unable to help herself she leaned over to gently kiss the older woman’s cheek. Her hand found Miranda’s and she tenderly entwined their fingers, looking up and drowning in azure eyes.
“Are you ready?” The conductor whispered while tucking a few stray hairs behind the brunette’s ear.
“Yes. Let’s go.”
They pulled out of the car park and began the ride in silence, their somber destination subduing the lustful tension between them.
Andy felt honored that Miranda trusted her enough to take her to see Cassidy. She knew the pain inside the conductor - she had seen it and they had talked about it a great deal - however it was still very different to actually accompany Miranda to visit her daughter’s grave.
They left the car near the cemetery gates and Andy followed the conductor into the small flower shop behind the main entrance. While they stood in front of the counter and waited for the requested flower bouquet to be prepared, they remained at a respectable distance from each other. It was something they had agreed on, early in their relationship. They wouldn’t publicly show affection until after the choral competition.
Miranda was holding her wallet in front of her chest and stood stiffly and expression-less, her eyes focused on nothing in particular. The moss green velvet coat hung lifelessly from her slightly slumped shoulders, and there was a devious lock of hair that had separated from the customary curly and hung cheekily above the older woman’s right eye. Andy wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around Miranda, pull her close and force all the bad memories away from the conductor’s heart. She wanted to tenderly brush the silver hair back in order and plant sweet kisses on those sad cheeks.
As if reading her mind, the older woman suddenly turned her head and studied Andy, before slowly extending her arm and offering her hand.
“Come here.”
Those two simple words reassured the journalist that Miranda and her were one. They knew each other so well, could practically feel every emotion the other experienced, and it created such a strong bond between them that would enable them to overcome pretty much any obstacle ever laid in their path.
She slipped her fingers into the waiting hand and allowed the older woman to pull her closer. They now stood shoulder to shoulder and a soft thumb began stroking Andy’s palm, causing a tightness in the brunette’s chest that threatened to bring tears.
The store clerk returned from the backroom with a bouquet of pink lilies and Miranda briefly withdrew her hand to pay, before thanking the old man, reclaiming her hold on Andy and gently tugging the brunette back outside.
The sound of gravel crunching under the weight of their feet accompanied their silence, as they walked along the main path between row upon row of headstones. Andy had never been on a cemetery before and she felt oddly drawn to the otherworldly serenity that lay over the graves. Miranda had tightened her grip and their joined hands swung between them with every step they took.
“Andrea,” the conductor began softly, her voice testing and strangely hesitant. “Your mother did not just ask me to take good care of you.”
I knew it. ”What, did she threaten you? Did she say something mean?” The brunette was instantly ready to defend Miranda against anything her mother might have flung her way.
“No.” The older woman stopped walking and turned to face Andy. “No, Darling. Nothing like that.” Andy recognised great sadness in Miranda’s gaze and her heart sank because she knew that the sorrow she had witnessed in the conductor’s face earlier wasn’t just for Cassidy, but something else entirely.
“Miranda... what is it. Please tell me.” Andy tried hard not to panic as the older woman pulled her closer and began stroking her cheek.
“You know the talk I had with your mother this morning, when you came back from your shower?” The brunette nodded. “Well, she had confided in me with something that was too hard for her to tell you herself, and when we said goodbye this afternoon, she asked me to do it for her.” There was definite wetness shimmering from Miranda’s eyes in the dim light from the rusty light poles that lined the path, and Andy felt her own eyes burn in return.
“Miranda, you’re scaring me,” she whispered.
“Oh Darling. It’s alright, it’s in the past. But I think it’s something you should know.” She tenderly pressed her lips to the younger woman’s forehead before pulling away far enough to lovingly look into her eyes.
“Andrea, you had an older sister.”
Andy’s entire body suddenly went still and it felt as if even her blood had stopped flowing. Sorrow gripped at the corners of her mouth, forcing her jaw open and heavy tears violently began spilling from her lashes.
“W-what?” She croaked, barely audible.
“She died when she was only four weeks old, and her name was Alexandra.” Miranda whispered gently as she pulled the sobbing young woman closer. Andy had no strength in her arms to return the embrace and her hands just rested loosely between their bodies, unable to move.
“When...?”
“Four years before you were born.” The older woman began to gently rock Andy in her arms and as the feeling in her limbs returned, the brunette gingerly reached around Miranda and locked her arms against the conductor as tightly as she could, completely succumbing to sobs. Images of what it would have been like to grow up with a sister flashed before her, and she remembered how lonely she had always felt and how pained the expression on her parents’ faces had been when she had, in her childish naivety, requested a sibling to play with.
They stood together in the middle of the dimly-lit path, on the otherwise deserted cemetery, and as if on cue the wind picked up and ghosted stray leaves around their ankles. Andy shivered and attempted to crawl deeper into the embrace, burying her wet face against the soft wool of the Christmas scarf, the symbol of hers and Miranda’s love. She took a shaky breath and tried to relax as the older woman traced gentle circles across her upper back.
“Shhh, it’s alright, my Darling.”
The brunette sniffled and slowly pulled away to look into Miranda’s beautiful face. “You know... it explains a few things.”
Tenderly wiping at the tears on Andy’s reddened cheeks the conductor nodded. “I thought it might.”
“When I told her a-about Cassidy,” the younger woman hiccuped as she tried to even out her breathing, “... there was something... it felt as if Mom wanted to say something... But then she didn’t.”
“Yes. I tried to persuade her to tell you herself, but I guess it’s too difficult to take that step after such a long time of keeping secrets.” Miranda’s eyes were warm and full of understanding. “However you are welcome to ask her about it, now that you know.” Andy nodded and then took a deep, steadying breath.
“Thank you. For telling me.”
Standing in the cold winter wind, under the first few stars of the evening, with such sudden sorrow lain across her heart, felt surreal and strangely poetic, and Andy realised that Miranda holding her tightly, in this warm embrace of love and trust, was the most beautiful thing she had ever experienced.
It was this very moment that she understood that they were true soul mates. Two people, who had found each other in the midst of the enormous, thorn-ridden forest called ‘Life’. Two people, who had disregarded technicalities of age and gender and had immediately connected on the deepest of levels, reaching out toward one another, across the countless red ribbons that fate had spun around them.
It brought fresh tears to her eyes and she pressed forward to cling to Miranda once more, inhaling her scent and letting go of everything else but them.
“I love you so much, Miranda...” she whispered against the conductor’s temple. “Words seem so inadequate...”
The older woman squeezed back so tightly that it nearly hurt, but Andy would have gladly offered a few cracked ribs.
“I love you, too, Darling.”
They pulled away, and relinking their hands they continued their walk toward Cassidy’s resting place.
------
Andrea leaned loosely against Miranda’s shoulder as the older woman fumbled with the lock of her apartment. They were still holding hands, making it rather difficult to open the door, but after a few more seconds the conductor managed and they stepped inside.
As Miranda switched on the lights, the brunette dropped her overnight bag on the hallway floor and then turned to fully wrap her arms around the older woman. Miranda kissed Andrea’s temple and whispered, “Tired?”
“Nuh-uh. I just felt cuddly,” the younger woman replied sheepishly and then briefly rubbed their noses together before pulling away and offering a shy grin.
Miranda returned the smile and slipped out of her heels. “Come on, let’s eat and then we can cuddle all night.”
After removing the rest of their outer wear, they padded into the kitchen, hand-in-hand, and the conductor opened the fridge.
“Oh wow. What happened here?” Andrea asked as she stood behind Miranda and rested her chin lightly on the conductor’s shoulder, studying the fully stocked shelves.
“Since I will have a hungry teenage monster living with me soon,” the older woman paused for a moment, choosing her next words carefully, “... and I’m hoping to have you and your Tardis-like stomach around as often as possible, I thought should be prepared.”
The soft giggle next to her ear felt like a homecoming, and she leaned back into the embrace as Andrea snaked her arms around her waist and grabbed at something in the vegetable drawer.
“Do you mind if I make us a salad? It’s quick and light.”
Miranda smiled and turned her head to kiss the brunette’s cheek. “No, I don’t mind. Go ahead, Darling.” She then stepped away and leaned against the kitchen table, watching as the younger woman began chopping up carrots, romaine lettuce and Roma tomatoes. Andrea worked in silence but there was definite communication going on between the two of them. Mainly between the conductor’s eyes and the brunette’s backside.
A lot of her earlier arousal and blind, physical need had been blocked out during their visit to Cassidy’s grave, and now it lay deep inside of her, brooding away in a half-slumber, waiting to finally be released. Andrea was definitely teasing when she tasted the homemade Caesar dressing by languidly sucking on her finger and looking at Miranda through lowered lids.
As they ate, their feet found each other under the table and began a quiet dance up and down the other’s calves. Soon they were no longer eating, and the conductor reached across their still half full plates to capture the brunette’s hand in her own.
“Come,” she whispered, and the slight shiver that rippled through Andrea at the sound of her seductive voice, caused a silly grin to form on the conductor’s lips.
They stood and Miranda gently pulled the younger woman down the hall and into the master bathroom where she let go of her hand in order to adjust the water taps of the claw-foot bathtub. She then watched as Andrea’s eyes slowly glazed over and the brunette subconsciously licked her lips. The action fully awoke any festering desires that might still have been hibernating in the depths of Miranda’s soul, and with renewed need she moved forward and slowly began undressing the brunette.
She lingered on every single button of Andrea’s cardigan, making sure the warmth of her fingertips penetrated through the thin layers of cotton and caused the younger woman to close her eyes with a sigh. After slipping the striped garment off shaky shoulders she tugged at the plain white shirt and deftly pulled it over the brunette’s head.
Andrea stood before her unmoved, her large, brown eyes full of trust and love. Miranda reached down and slowly unbuttoned the black jeans, revealing inch after inch of cotton briefs that matched the baby blue of the younger woman’s bra. She gently tugged down the pants and assisted the brunette with stepping out of them, taking the socks off as well.
The beautiful sight of the love of her life standing before her in nothing but underwear, chest heaving, cheeks flushed, and eyes shining with so many different, delicious things, curled itself around the conductor’s heart and she had difficulty breathing. Andrea just waited patiently until the older woman’s fingers found their way to the clasp of her bra, freeing the soft mounds from confinement and divesting the garment on the pile of discarded clothing, before travelling lower and sliding under the waistband of her briefs. When Miranda slid down the final piece of clothing she picked up the clear scent of the younger woman’s arousal and she had stop herself from having her fill of Andrea there and then.
Instead she held out her hand to guide the brunette toward the tub. After the younger woman had lowered herself into the water and sat amid the puffs of foam, staring lustfully back at the conductor, Miranda began to strip off her own clothing. Piece after piece fell onto the floor, and the awed gulps and adorable sighs from Andrea ensured that by the time Miranda removed her underwear, she was thoroughly wet.
The blatant way the brunette feasted her eyes on her bare body made the conductor feel slightly self-conscious and she hurried to step into the bath and settle behind Andrea.
When the younger woman slid back and in between her parted thighs, they both hummed at the intimate contact. The heat of the water buzzed every single one of her muscles into a state of bliss and she gently pulled Andrea closer against herself, allowing the younger woman’s back to lie heavily against her chest.
“Hmmm, this is so nice...,” Andrea sighed as she let her head roll back onto Miranda’s shoulder.
The conductor chuckled. “Darling, this is just the preparation stage.”
Andrea’s resulting throaty laugh vibrated through Miranda’s chest and she reached for a sponge, applied some body soap, and began lathering up the younger woman’s arms and shoulders. Andrea hummed contently as the conductor meticulously washed every part of the brunette’s body, making a special effort around the luscious breasts and in between the thighs, before using the sponge on herself. The younger woman turned around and their eyes remained locked as Miranda guided the sponge between her own legs, gazing lovingly at Andrea while the softness brushed against her center.
They didn’t speak when the older woman stepped from the tub and wrapped an over-sized towel, first around herself, and then around Andrea, before she assisted the slightly shivering brunette out of the tub. So many emotions rushed through Miranda as she began to tenderly dry off Andrea. She wanted to cherish this beautiful angel, to make her feel loved and show her how much she meant to the conductor. At the same time, Miranda could barely contain the blind need that commanded her to rip off the towel and push Andrea’s soft body against the tiled wall in a frenzy.
The mutual gaze that connected them became too intense and before Miranda could even react, Andrea’s lips were on hers, warm and pliant, abruptly setting the conductor’s whole body on fire. The older woman knew that if they didn’t move now, they would never make it into bed, so she gently pushed the brunette backward until they found themselves in the adjoining room.
Her body humming with anticipation, Miranda broke the kiss and stepped away, drowning in the younger woman’s glazed-over eyes. Soon the towels had fallen to the floor and the conductor took Andrea by the hand and pushed her onto the silken bed sheet. She wanted to take it slow, worship every inch of the brunette, but her own body screamed at her to ravish Andrea, who gazed up at where Miranda knelt. She was so torn between her conflicting desires that tears welled up in her eyes and she lay down next to the younger woman, burying her face in the luscious, dark hair.
“Miranda, are you okay?” Andrea asked sweetly.
“Yes... I just want you so much...” she breathed hotly against the brunette’s neck. “... that I don’t know where to begin.” She curled into Andrea’s warm body and pulled the younger woman close.
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Andy’s heart burst at the older woman’s admission and she slung her arms and legs tightly around Miranda, pressing them deliciously together from head to toe.
She sighed and then, with strength born from desire, flipped the conductor onto her back. The flush to the older woman’s cheeks was clearly visible under the soft bedroom lights and Andy slowly trailed her fingers along Miranda’s arms while sitting up and straddling the older woman around the middle. Her eyes never leaving the conductor’s, she gently brought one of Miranda’s hands to her mouth, and pressed open-mouthed kisses into the palm.
“I love your hands. Your beautiful hands...” she murmured against the supple skin and then slowly trailed her lips lower until they pressed against the pulse point just below the wrist. When she began to greedily suck at the sensitive skin there, Miranda squirmed and lowered her lids with a moan.
“Andrea...”
The brunette smiled, allowing her teeth to graze against the protruding tendons, which sent a wave of shivers through the older woman. She continued to suckle at the soft skin, slowly moving her lips along the inside of Miranda’s arm, across the smooth shoulder and toward her neck. She spent long minutes kissing, licking and sucking the conductor’s throat, communicating her day full of frustrated desires with her mouth.
“Oh god, Andrea...” the older woman moaned, the sound traveling from her skin directly onto Andy’s lips, where it tickled and caused another smile. Miranda’s hands roamed freely across the brunette’s back and Andy had some difficulty keeping her focus.
She lazily slid lower, planting sweet kisses on the conductor’s collar bone and the soft expanse of her upper chest, until her mouth finally closed around a stiffened nipple, eliciting a delightful cry from Miranda.
Andy’s tongue danced tenderly over the little peak, molding around every little bump and ridge, pressing rhythmically against the flesh as it rose and fell with each suction. The older woman’s hands had freed Andy’s hair from its ponytail by now and languidly stroked through the dark strands, as she hummed and moaned her appraisal.
“Hmmm, Darling...”
Andy was in complete and utter bliss. Miranda’s responses were truly exquisite and if she didn’t have bigger plans, she would have lingered there longer. However, she was still too far away from her ultimate goal, and after a few more kisses, and with a sense of regret she released the reddened mounds and moved further down.
This was her treasure, her gift to claim. Miranda readily offered herself, arching up as Andy settled between her legs. The brunette wanted to communicate through her touch, from one body to another, that Miranda was the single most important entity in the universe to her. She tenderly slid her hands under the older woman’s thighs pulling her up and toward her.
She leaned forward, revelling in the clean and distinct smell of the love of her life. It was so intimate and beautiful that her heart ached, and with a lust-drunk smile on her lips she extended her tongue and took one full, long lick. Miranda arched off the mattress as Andy began to worship her body with determination. The brunette had to hold on to the hips that rose greedily against her, and as she opened her mouth and pressed the slick muscle further and past the barrier, smooth thighs closed around her ears in an almost painful crash.
Miranda seemed to dance with each command of the younger woman’s tongue; a slave to the skillful mouth that had declared her a goddess and was now consuming her in sweet prayer. The room was filled with the older woman’s incoherent chanting and the gentle smacking noises of Andy’s ministrations, and as the brunette thrust deeper into Miranda, she realised that now she was the conductor, playing a symphony on the older woman’s body, that was at her complete and utter mercy.
A possessive need overtook her, and her movements became firmer and more precise, sending Miranda into a spiral of frantic movement and a chorus of unbridled moans. With the risk of suffocation, Andy allowed her nose to press firmly into the older woman’s flesh and she felt Miranda come undone.
Everything around her hummed in sweet spasms as the beautiful woman beneath her lips floated off the bed in silent bliss, before slowly crashing back down into the mussed, silken sheets. A final flood bathed Andy’s tongue and mouth and she drank hungrily, as if Miranda was the fabled well of the Water of Life itself.
Weakened fingers began grabbing at her shoulders and with a last kiss to the delicious softness, the brunette allowed herself to be pulled upward and into waiting arms. The frantic hammering of Miranda’s heartbeat and both their laboured breathing was the only sound for a while, until the older woman hummed against Andy’s throat and squeezed her tightly.
“I have no words...” Her raspy chuckle travelled down Andy’s spine like hot cocoa. “Oh my god...”
“Miranda, I love you. Forever.” The brunette sighed dreamily into the damp, silver hair and felt herself drift off into content slumber while Miranda planted a sweet kiss on her shoulder.
“I love you too, my Andrea. Always.”
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To be continued....