Vocalise - FINAL CHAPTER
Title: Vocalise
Rating: NC-17 - Mature (Some smut type situations in the beginning... ^_^)
Warning: Established character death. T__T
Pairing: Andy/Miranda
Length: 8500 (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 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14
A/N: Sorry for the long delay! I have no real excuse. I hope you guys will forgive me and enjoy the final part!
Chapter 15 - Final Chapter
Miranda had never been a morning person. She had always hated that moment of semi-lucidness, the slight disorientation and the imperfections of mussed hair, hooded eyes and unpleasant breath. Before the twins’ accident she had made a habit of rising early and showering away the kinks of the night and indulging in her first cup of coffee before interacting with anyone else.
After that fateful Christmas day five years ago, dawn and the accompanying physical and emotional grogginess had bled into the rest of the day and had turned the concept of morning into something even more unbearable. Facing yet another twenty-four hours after a restless night had been one of the most difficult things about her depression and even after she had begun to slowly get her life back in order, the early hours had still always been a time of day the conductor would have rather skipped.
That was, until Andrea had entered her life.
Now she loved nothing more than waking up to this new symphony of sensation. As soon as Morpheus bade his farewell, she would become aware of the heat of the younger woman’s body spooned against her or a limb draped over her abdomen. She would tingle from the delicious mixture of satin sheets against her body, crisp morning air on her face and the delicate softness of Andrea’s skin. Nothing filled her with such peace as listening to the brunette’s soft snores, and the often lingering scent of their previous night’s passion and heavy sleep bathed her in tremendous safety and comfort.
The morning of the finals was no exception. Miranda blinked against the diffuse light that filtered through the curtains and languidly stretched, curling her toes, flexing her calves and twisting her hips just a little, to shake off the remaining stiffness of the restful night.
She turned her head to gaze at her sleeping lover and reveled in the familiar warmth that flooded through her at the sight of the messy brunette locks that framed Andrea’s relaxed features. The younger woman was lying on her stomach, facing Miranda, and had one hand tucked under the pillow beneath her cheek. The conductor reached out and trailed her fingers over Andrea’s smooth cheekbones and tenderly brushed away some wayward strands of hair from her forehead.
The journalist usually slept like a rock and whereas waking her was somewhat of an undertaking, Miranda enjoyed it especially on mornings when they could take their time.
Her fingers travelled behind Andrea’s ear and began a languid journey down her neck, slipping under the covers and exploring the silken expanse of the younger woman’s bare back. The brunette was warm and so inviting that Miranda naturally drifted closer and pressed herself against the length of the delicious body as her hand wandered ever lower.
She brought her lips to a rounded shoulder and smiled against Andrea’s skin when her exploratory hand met the supple flesh of the younger woman’s butt. She gave a careful squeeze and intently watched the younger woman’s long, thick lashes flutter briefly, before Andrea shifted closer, mumbling sleepy nonsense and, with an adorable little sigh, snuggled more firmly against Miranda. The conductor continued to massage her way down to the back of Andrea’s thigh and then traced along the smooth dip below the firm derriere, from the outside of the younger woman’s leg, all the way to her centre.
“Hmmm...”
Miranda pulled back her head and studied the lazy smile that had settled on Andrea’s full lips. She stilled her hand, keeping the backs of her fingers pressed loosely against the damp heat between the brunette’s legs and waited. As predicted, the younger woman first raised an eyebrow, and then slowly blinked open her eyes and fixed her misty gaze on Miranda.
“Good morning, my Love,” the older woman murmured through a smirk and once again teased the sensitive flesh beneath her knuckles. Andrea replied with a languid backward roll of her hips and then stretched her neck to bridge the distance between them and plant a soft kiss on Miranda’s forehead.
“Morning, Mira.”
They stared into each other, remembering the intensity of their previous night’s lovemaking, and with a gentility that could only stem from their mutual trust and love, the younger woman reached out and dreamily caressed Miranda’s lips. Following the movement with her eyes she then smiled shyly and a sudden flush of pink to her cheeks signaled the vivid recollection of what they had experienced together just a few hours ago.
“Sore?” The conductor asked against Andrea’s fingertips, smugness and concern equally colouring her hushed voice.
“Only in the good places,” the younger woman answered. For emphasis she lifted her hips into Miranda’s hand again and rolled her eyes closed with a content sigh.
“I had no idea it could feel that way...” the brunette mumbled self-consciously. “... when technically it was the same as... you know...” she trailed off and seemed to get lost in the sensation of Miranda’s fingers fluttering so lightly against her.
“I’m glad you approved,” the conductor smirked and softly kissed Andrea’s palm.
The younger woman blinked and then looked back at her with a fire that momentarily took Miranda’s breath away.
“Approved? God, Mira, that doesn’t even begin to cover it!” Her cheeks took on a particularly beautiful shade of red as she continued in a mere whisper. “I absolutely loved it. In case you hadn’t noticed...” she finished with a smirk.
Shifting closer, Miranda nuzzled the brunette’s throat and then planted sweet kisses on her shoulder. “Yes, I kind of noticed. I’m actually quite happy that I didn’t use my hands.”
At this Andrea offered an inelegant “Huh?”.
“Darling, your thighs are so strong, I would have had to conduct with a wrist brace today...” She chuckled at the embarrassed grumble that bubbled up in the younger woman’s throat. “Not that I would have minded. I would carry it as a battle scar and trophy of glorious conquests.” She shuddered slightly at the blissful memory of Andrea’s legs firmly locking around her hips while she had rhythmically thrust so deeply into the younger woman’s welcoming core.
She had been a bit hesitant to introduce toys, priding herself in being more than capable of pleasuring her love just on her own. However a conversation a few days ago, where Andrea had claimed that she had never climaxed from plain intercourse with a man, always needing to give herself a hand, and that she must have simply not been wired that way, had inspired the conductor to prove to Andrea that it wasn’t about the tool, but rather about the person who wielded it.
After long, beautiful moments of writhing, tightly locked together in multiple orgasms, the brunette had readily agreed.
Miranda sighed into the dark, silken tresses of her lover’s hair and allowed her inquisitive fingers to brush more firmly against the slick heat between Andrea’s thighs. “So you’re not too sore to...”
“Never!” The younger woman croaked before Miranda could even finish her question and after a beat they both snorted at the abrupt declaration.
“Hmmm... insatiable...” the conductor drawled. “What ever am I going to do with you?”
“Do unto others as you would have them do unto you...” the brunette quoted cheekily as she raised her butt one more time and began opening her legs.
Miranda grinned.
“Well, in that case...”
She turned her wrist and carefully drove two fingers deeply into Andrea, eliciting those heavenly whimpers that were quickly becoming her favourite sound in the world.
----
To say that Andy was overwhelmed by nerves would probably be an understatement. She was riddled with the kind of high-pitched excitement that made it a challenge to keep down her food; the kind that made her palms sweat and sent her heart into a superficial flutter that didn’t seem quite strong enough to allow oxygen to reach into all the important parts of her body.
The journalist found herself pacing in the backstage area where the muffled noise of the gradually filling main hall echoed in her ears with a steady hum that kept her on edge. Andy wasn’t even sure why exactly she was so anxious. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d sing on stage. There had been the Christmas concert about three months ago, and back then she had been devoid of any signs of stage fright. Granted, she had been preoccupied with her growing attraction and affection for Miranda at the time, but in essence, singing in a church and singing on stage in a sold out Carnegie Hall during the final of a prestigious competition, were the same thing.
Well, actually, they weren’t at all.
The brunette wrung her hands and attempted not to think about how huge the audience would be. Only a week ago she had been sitting in one of those seats herself when her choir had managed just fine without her. Then why did it feel like such a daunting challenge to go out on that stage and simple do what she loved so much?
She checked her cell phone for a message from Caroline, who had spent the night back at the Hamptons. The teenager was in charge of finding Andy’s parents and make sure they and Miranda’s parents got along while sitting together during their daughters’ performance. The rest of the choir was still in the prep room where Andy herself had been just a few moments ago, before her friends had more or less kicked her out because she was transferring her nerves over to the other singers.
If only Miranda would get there already. It may have been twenty minutes before the opening speech, and another fifty minutes before Vocalise were supposed to be on stage, so there was plenty of time left. However Andy knew she needed the older woman by her side just to be able to calm down and find some peace. She was aware that Miranda had a meeting with Irv to talk about the future of the choir, but she wasn’t entirely convinced that, right now, just before the final round of the most important choral competition in New York City, was the best moment.
Her phone vibrated and she quickly opened Caroline’s message.
All grand-parental units safe and accounted for. Will go and find our seats now.
For a few seconds the idea that Miranda’s daughter would refer to Andy’s parents as grand-parents eased most of the worries from the brunette’s mind. Of course it was a bit too early for that designation, and it may just have been one of those teenage things, like calling anyone above the age of fifty “granny” or “grandpa”, but nonetheless the thought of it warmed Andy’s heart. She gazed at the phone with a fond smile on her lips and then proceeded to text back her thanks.
Then finally she heard the faint clacking of heels approaching from down the hallway and a blanket of calm settled over her at the familiar stride. She had her back turned to the direction of the sound, but all her senses were acutely aware of Miranda and she welcomed the warm hands that slipped around her middle and pulled her into a gentle embrace.
“Hello, Darling,” the older woman’s soft voice curled soothingly around Andy’s spine. “Did Nigel kick you out?”
The brunette snorted, but then nodded. “Yeah. I think I was driving them a bit crazy. I don’t really know why I’m so nervous.”
Miranda tenderly kissed the back of her neck and then stepped around the younger woman, cupping her cheek and gazing lovingly into brown eyes.
“Andrea, it doesn’t matter what happens today. We will go onto that stage and give the very best performance we’re capable of. Whether we win or lose isn’t important.”
Andy looked down between them and drew her lips into a halfhearted pout. “But what about Jacqueline... and Emily...? What if they win?” She shuddered at the thought of the ‘villains’ getting away with everything.
Miranda gently tugged at the brunette’s chin and forced their eyes to lock again.
“Darling, right now all that matters is us and our music. Nobody else deserves any kind of consideration, especially not traitors or petty thieves. We’re not here to beat anyone.” She trailed her thumb across Andy’s lips. “We’re here to sing.”
There was a vibrant sparkle in the older woman’s eyes that brought out the subtle green undertones. It was a mixture of mischief, conviction and a hunger for the challenge to surpass oneself, and all three were drenched in the love and affection Andy found directed only at herself. Nearly frozen in place from the awe at so much life and positive energy coming from Miranda, the brunette managed to reach up and pull the conductor against herself, and she took deep, steadying breaths that allowed her to absorb more of the wonderful woman in her arms.
“I love you,” she whispered into silky, silver hair and enjoyed the feel of Miranda’s arms tightening around her.
“And I you,” the older woman murmured sweetly against her lips.
Andy smiled. “My parents are here. Caroline is getting them to their seats.” The conductor nodded in acknowledgement and brushed a strand of hair from the brunette’s forehead. For a short moment they simply gazed at each other lovingly and nearly forgot where they were, and why.
Miranda looked radiant and more than ready for her big moment. She might have had plenty of experience leading choirs to victory in this particular competition, however tonight would be the first occasion where an audience heard the conductor’s own compositions.
Andy was tremendously proud of the older woman and as she gazed back at her love she thought that Miranda had never looked more beautiful. The dark blue of her sparkling, strapless dress matched the choir’s robes and her typical silver forelock had been brushed back to allow a clear, open view of her beautiful face. Sapphire drop earrings completed the ethereal outfit and the brunette made a mental note to have their picture taken before the night was over.
“Oh. By the way, how did things go with Rumpelstiltskin?” She suddenly remembered to ask.
Miranda snorted and pulled up her bare shoulders as she lifted a hand to elegantly cover her mouth and hide her snickering. “Rumpelstiltskin?”
The younger woman’s timid smile transformed into a lazy grin. “Well, yeah... What, you don’t like my name for Irv?”
“No, no. It’s perfect! Too perfect,” the conductor chuckled. “You and your brilliant mind.” She placed a tiny kiss on Andy’s nose, careful not to leave a smudge of her lipstick, and the brunette’s chest nearly combusted with affection at the gesture.
“Everything is fine.” At the younger woman’s raised eyebrow Miranda stepped away and distractedly slid her fingers along the pleats at the front of Andrea’s robes. “I’ll inform you of the exact details after our performance, but for now you may know that Mr. Ravitz will allow the choir to remain, regardless of today’s outcome.”
“Oh, that’s great news, Mira!” Andy beamed, feeling the last of her earlier tension fall away in relief.
The older woman’s gaze tightened in brief contemplation, but then she curled her fingers into the white stole around Andy’s neck and used it to pull her in for a loving kiss.
“It is,” she whispered sweetly once they had parted again. “We should go back and tell the others before the show starts.”
The younger woman nodded and tenderly twined their fingers together, before tugging Miranda toward the prep room.
-----
Their competition was fierce. The conductor swallowed down the small but persistent lump that had formed in her throat as soon as the first choir had appeared on stage. The 'Harlem Juniors' were exceptionally good. The large group of boys and girls with mostly welfare family backgrounds were singing Johann Sebastian Bach's ‘Magnificat’ in D.
Magnificently.
Andrea had written two articles about the government funded initiative which had supported music education programs like the Harlem Juniors until its stagnation seven months ago. Miranda had read all of the journalist's research and it had played a big part in her decisions regarding the future. It wasn't just Andrea's compelling writing that had roused the conductor's interest in the musical education of children, particularly youngsters in disadvantaged neighbourhoods. The younger woman's vigorous research and empathic engagement behind the words, which Miranda had been privileged to witness, had also greatly effected the older woman.
The idea that a self-serving elite could take away arts and music from those who would benefit from them the most was puzzling to her, and although she lacked the righteousness-driven political energy Andrea seemed to put forth in her writing, Miranda had become aware of her desire to contribute. Music was supposed to exist for everyone. It certainly existed in everyone. The beautiful voices of the boys and girls currently on stage were a testimony to that.
A young tenor and an alto, both about Caroline's age proceeded to give an incredibly emotional rendition of 'Et Misericordia'. Miranda could hear a few, minor technical difficulties, but especially the boy soloist delivered his lines with such beautiful inflection that the conductor had pleasant shivers running down her spine. Talent like that screamed to be cherished and nurtured.
Miranda worried if the current performance would be detrimental to her own choir's singing. 'Vocalise' were ready and waiting for their turn, just to the side of the stage. The conductor gazed at Andrea, who was leaning against a wall and had closed her eyes in appreciation as she listened to the beautiful baroque harmonies. Miranda figured that the journalist probably felt pride and a sense of contentment at seeing that the choir from an after school program she had passionately written about for many months, and had tried to save from extinction, was doing so well.
There was a big difference between a Manhattan community centre choir for working middle class adults who paid their own membership fee and viewed singing as a fun past-time activity, and a choir that not only kept Harlem children off the streets, but also offered them a future in what, as sad as it sounded, was still a world dominated by privileged white families, who could afford to send their sons and daughters to world-renowned conservatories at an early age.
The ‘Harlem Juniors’ began the final song of Bach's Vespers masterpiece by correctly building up the tension with perfect harmonies; starting with their impressive bass singers, then joined by the tenors, enriching the sound and opening up for the altos and then finally the sopranos, creating a cascade of melody that visibly enthralled the breathless audience. The Carnegie Hall Orchestra, no doubt inspired by the blatant skill of the singers on stage, did their very best with the typically pompous melodies of Bach, rousing everyone in the large auditorium and setting a rather high standard for the evening to come.
Miranda found herself smiling. She had told Andrea the truth earlier, winning or losing truly did not matter to her at this point. It might have been important five years ago, when pushing her then choir to new heights with a strict hand had been her entire life. However, a lot had changed since then.
She took a deep breath while the Harlem Juniors finished into a storm of enthusiastic applause. Briefly looking up at Andrea, who had stepped to her side and gently squeezed her hand, Miranda steeled her mind. This was it. The moment of truth, quite literally.
The short trip up into the spotlight happened more or less in a state of trance and before the older woman had a chance to second guess herself in regards to what she was about to share, Nigel sat up straight behind the grand piano and gave her an encouraging grin.
Exchanging one final, soothing look with Andrea, she poised her hands in the air, demanding her choir's utmost attention. This was her element, standing at the helm, being in command, and although she was about to relent a certain amount of control by having the singers give voice to her emotions about the twins' accident, she felt a sense of calm envelop her and flow through her veins as she signaled to Andrea and Douglas to begin.
Their voices worked so well together as they depicted that peaceful Christmas Night five years ago. Miranda could feel herself be transported back to that moment where she had sleepily padded down the stairs to answer the front door. The rest of the choir joined in to slowly built the apprehension the conductor had felt when the police offers had come into view, and then four different voices split into six to dramatically highlight the moment of realisation.
There was no point in holding back her tears as she guided the choir through what Andrea had named the ‘First Act’; the moment everything changed. Seven days ago Miranda had sat down in front of the singers, and with the help of Andrea, had told them about her girls. The story had inspired the men and women right away and no further explanation had been necessary as they had begun daily, vigorous rehearsals of the composition with, at times, very intricate passages. Miranda didn't need to hide anything now. Her tears were simply a logical consequence of opening up her heart to share the music with her choir and with the audience.
Act Two was pretty much a journey of solitary melancholy. The conductor felt glad that she had decided to let Andrea be the voice of her emotions as the brunette sang her solo of the twins' lament. The warm resonance of her vibrato reached deep into the hearts of singers and audience alike, and Miranda knew that their special bond and the younger woman's in-depth knowledge of what Miranda had been through, enhanced every note with the colour of sincere empathy and sorrow. The rigid lock between their gazes kept the conductor grounded, and she knew that without Andrea she would not be able to hold herself together.
As beautiful and perfect as it was, Miranda was glad when the rest of the choir joined in and signaled the progression to the third and final act. The mending. The sutures that closed her wounds. Embracing the warm heart of the person who came to love her unconditionally. Is wasn't exactly the euphoria of a Bach, or the colourful enigma of Vivaldi, but with her love's help Miranda had created a slowly ascending possibility for true and utter happiness, not just in this piece of music, but also in her life.
She blinding smile she received from Andrea after the final note had been sung set her skin tingling with relief and an intense feeling of accomplishment. The applause they received was deafening and it rose up behind her liked a tsunami of sympathy and confirmation. She allowed the praise to wash over her as she turned on the spot and bowed together with her singers. When she straightened back up her eyes browsed over the many faces until she encountered the bouncy vision of Caroline ecstatically clapping her hands together between two sets of immensely pleased looking parents.
She felt elated and indescribably happy, and as soon as they had walked off the stage and into their prep room she grabbed a slightly startled Andrea by the collar of her robes and crashed their lips together.
----
Andy knew she was probably glowing like an idiot. Their performance had been spectacular and better than she could have ever imagined. Miranda had been brilliant, and the way she had opened up and had let her heart shine from her very core as she had so elegantly moved her arms and hands to guide them, had made Andy fall in love with her all over again.
Never mind the frantic and fantastic way she was kissing her right now, in full view of the rest of the choir. When their tongues met Andy instinctively, and aided by a rush of adrenaline, cupped the conductor's exquisite backside to pull her closer, until a rather impressed sounding whistle from her left alerted her to the fact that they weren't alone. She sheepishly slid her hands upward and then released the older woman's lips only to break out into a grin so wide she was sure it would tear the corners of her mouth.
Miranda was radiant.
"That was amazing, Mira. You were fantastic," she whispered.
The conductor allowed the most adorable smile Andy had ever seen outside of their bedroom.
"So were you." The older woman then looked up and around the prep room. "All of you." She slowly let go of the brunette and stepped away to address the choir properly.
"You are the best choir a conductor could ever have. I'm incredibly proud of all of you."
Andy stroked the back Miranda's hand and basked in the happy feeling a simple praise from the older woman could have on the singers. They beamed like young children who had accomplished an impossible task and pleasantly surprised their parents.
Doug stepped forward. "We couldn't have done it without you, Miranda. You've taught us so much in such a short time. You showed us how to become vulnerable and let the music touch us, how to work together and how to create something worthwhile." He briefly turned to the rest of the singers before finishing, "You are the best conductor a choir could wish for, Miranda, and with you we will be able to do anything in the future."
The other men and women cheered and clapped their hands in approval of his speech as Doug grinned warmly at the conductor. Andy, however, could feel Miranda tense under her fingers and a tingling sense of panic subdued the ecstatic warmth in the brunette's heart.
"About that..." the conductor began hesitantly. "Earlier, I when I spoke to Irv about the future of the choir..." she looked at Andy and clasped her hand a little tighter. "I also... informed him of my resignation as conductor and choral director at the community centre."
As Andy felt her muscles go rigid in shock at the news, the rest of the choir became engulfed in a low murmur of disbelief. The conductor pressed the brunette's hand to her chest and stroked soothingly over Andy's knuckles, seeming displeased that her love had to hear about her decision at the same time as everyone else.
"I'm taking up a teaching position at a conservatory here in New York, and I'm also going to set up a foundation to help finance the art and music education programs in the less... fortunate neighbourhoods running, now that all governmental aid has been withdrawn."
Andy wasn't sure what to feel. She hadn't even considered the possibility of Miranda no longer being their conductor. Having her around for each rehearsal had become a comfortable constant in her life and having to miss that in the future filled the brunette with a sense of loss. However, the fire in Miranda's eyes as she spoke about her plans, had struck a particular nerve, and Andy couldn't help but think that her own passionate engagement had somehow influenced the older woman's decision making. The idea of Miranda helping children such as the ‘Harlem Juniors’ was oddly appealing and made Andy feel a little proud.
Something in the older woman's features seemed to plead, and catching herself, Andy softened her eyes and gazed back at her love with warmth and understanding. She nodded and allowed her clasped fingers to brush against the smooth skin on Miranda's chest, and a visible ripple of relief eased the tension from the older woman's shoulders.
"I will stay with you until we have found a suitable replacement," Miranda addressed the rest of the choir again. "This decision has nothing to do with how much I enjoyed teaching you. Rather, it was my reconnection with teaching music that has opened my mind about what musical education truly means to me."
Nigel stepped forward and rested his hands on Miranda's shoulders.
"We understand." He smiled warmly. "You will be missed, but we understand. Don't we, guys?" He turned toward the singers and they nodded and, albeit reluctantly, murmured their agreement.
The conductor allowed another grateful smile and then gazed back at Andy, who still hadn't spoken. The younger woman was a bit weary of how everyone seemed to wait for her to react, but what she had to say to Miranda was private, so she tugged at the older woman's hand and pulled her toward the door. Once back outside in the empty hallway she immediately slipped her arms around Miranda's middle and hugged her tightly. The sense of loss she had felt earlier had vanished when the conductor had explained, however feeling Miranda lean into her and having her love's warm breath soothingly caress the area just below her ear helped the journalist to calm her still racing heart.
"Are you alright?" The conductor queried softly.
Andy replied by tightening her grasp and nodding her head where it rested in the crook between Miranda's throat and shoulder.
"I just..." she mumbled against the older woman's satin skin, "For a moment there I thought I would lose you..."
Miranda's arms firmed their hold around Andy and the conductor whispered, "you silly, silly creature." She placed tender kisses against the brunette's hair and inhaled deeply. "I could never leave you."
"I know," the younger woman hurried to say. "I know that, Mira. And the plans for your future fill me with pride. I will be there to support you all the way." Her grasp slackened a little when she began to feel embarrassed. "I just... I guess I'm so used to having you around with everything that has to do with music these days that the thought of being lead by anyone but you seems... sad. And uninspiring."
"Darling, we will still share all that," Miranda said as she stroked gently through Andy's hair. "And I will make sure someone competent takes the job."
The brunette looked up and the crooked smile she found on the older woman's lips told her that Miranda already had somebody in mind.
"Alright. I trust your judgement," Andy chuckled.
"So, a foundation to help make arts and music education available for disadvantaged children. That's pretty big," the younger woman prodded further.
Miranda's eyes fixated on Andy's lips and she tilted her head and jutted her chin forward in a way that signaled she was about to explain something important.
"Yes. Remember my friend Jacques who owns the patisserie we took your parents to?"
Andy nodded while studying the thoroughly adorable expression on Miranda's face. It showed that the conductor was excited and proud of the plans she had come up with, and although Andy wasn't entirely sure why Miranda hadn't told her earlier, going into greater details and finally sharing everything with her love seemed to truly please the older woman.
"Well, as you know Jacques is a professor at the conservatory and after reading your articles and following our conversations regarding your research, I realised that I wanted to help. I'm no 'Good Samaritan'," Miranda said as she brought her hands together on Andy's upper chest and began fidgeting with her fingers. "I first and foremost wish to teach those who are willing and who have talent. But I agree with you that it should never matter of which social standing somebody is." She looked up and Andy saw love shimmer in her eyes.
"Beside Caroline and you, music is my one passion. I realised over the past months that it is something worth sharing, and that by opening myself to others in that way, my life becomes enriched. So, I had a talk with my old friend and now we are in the process of setting up a special scholarship program, as well as a plan to fund and enhance the local programs that are already in place. That way, those children who excel during the basic music lessons will have a chance to attend the conservatory in the future."
Andy's chest swelled with a plethora of positivity. Pride, relief and endearment filled her heart. The woman in her arms, who only months ago had been broken, withdrawn and barely able to function in social situation without murdering someone with her glares, was now glowing with a hunger for life and an eagerness to make a real difference. It tickled the journalist and activist inside Andy, but most of all it made her understand that this was the one person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.
-----
"M-Miranda?"
The timid voice startled both women out of their embrace. The conductor looked behind them and spotted Emily standing a few feet away, face twisted into an apologetic grimace as she fidgeted with her hands. Serena was by her side, supportive hands on the redhead's tense shoulders and offering a friendly smile.
"What do you want?!" Andrea spoke rather harshly as she crossed her arms in front of her chest, ready for battle.
"I... uhm..."
The blonde gave her a gentle pat and stepped forward.
"Emily wants to apologize."
Under normal circumstances, Miranda wouldn't have allowed an apology. She would have turned on her heel and ignored whichever imbecile had pissed her off to begin with. However, something in Emily's face, and the way Serena stood in front of the redhead, basically speaking on her behalf, compelled her to at least listen. She placed a calming hand on Andrea's lower arm which had tensed considerably during the recent seconds, and nodded for the Briton to begin.
"I...I didn't know." Emily stammered, looking intently at the tips of her toes.
"Didn't know what?" Andrea spat.
The redhead looked up and the pleading in her gaze seemed genuine, even to Miranda.
"Anything."
The conductor pursed her lips and waited.
"What I did was... wrong, and inexcusable. I betrayed your trust and put the choir in jeopardy..." Emily sniffled and her friend stepped closer to replace her hands on the redhead's shoulders, where she proceeded to rub soothingly.
"I was selfish and acted like a child."
Miranda nodded in agreement.
"I didn't know what Jacqueline was up to when she offered me a spot in the choir and I was too blinded by my own hurt," she blinked back tears, "to think rationally."
Andrea's angry tension was already gone. Miranda knew that the brunette was sometimes quick-tempered, but genuine regret could just as easily make her forgive anyone for nearly anything. The conductor couldn't really blame Emily for having feelings for Andrea. There was something profoundly wrong with a person if they didn't love or at least feel attracted to the beautiful young woman. What had prompted the redhead to run off and leak their set list to the competition, though, still puzzled Miranda.
"How did you end up at my old choir?" she asked, striking down the British woman with a glare set to very nearly kill.
"Uhm... after you ran into her at the Bulgarian concert... I kind of asked her how she knew you. I guess I thought I could dig up some juicy history on you, to make you leave the choir..." The redhead refused to look directly at Andrea. "... and everything could go back to the way it was. Of course Jacqueline didn't say anything, but she clearly saw that I was distraught, so she offered me a solo part in the competition. All I had to do was get her the list of songs for the Choir Off, which of course as your assistant I constantly carried with me."
The conductor squared her shoulders as she thought about how low Jacqueline was willing to go in order to win. Not only had she abandoned her career in opera costume design to become a choral director, but of all choirs in New York, she had chosen the one which had been Miranda's entire life for nearly a decade. Something nagged at the silver-haired woman, but she knew she didn't necessarily want another confrontation with the Frenchwoman to get confirmation for her suspicions.
"After the competition last week Serena told me the truth. She told me everything. About your daughters, Jacqueline, your disappearance from the world of music..." Emily steeled her gaze to directly look at Miranda. "I felt like a right twat. I... I'm truly, truly sorry. I don't think there are words to express how bad I feel about everything..."
The conductor could feel Andrea's expectant gaze on her. The young woman really had a much too soft heart, but then again, that was one of the many qualities Miranda cherished in her.
Miranda regarded the redhead for a while. Forgiveness or kindness didn't come easy to her and she couldn't just forget what Emily had done. On the other hand, Jacqueline had a way to enthrall people and make them act in irrational ways. The Briton had been guided by hurt and anger, and in the end her betrayal hadn't really cost them anything. Had the set list not been leaked, Miranda would never have finished her composition, let alone shared it in public.
"I accept your apology."
The shock in Emily's face showed that she hadn't actually expected that response, and the conductor felt slightly smug.
"Uhm... th-thank you..."
Serena beamed at them. It spoke volumes for her character that for as long as the tension had existed between her new friend and Miranda, she had chosen to remain by Emily's side. Now, that things had been more or less cleared up, she walked over to properly greet the older woman. She pressed her cheek to Miranda's and then pulled back with a radiant smile.
"Miranda, I'm very glad to see you again!" She then turned to Andrea and extended her arm.
"My name is Serena." They shook hands. "Emily and I just quit the Sunshine Singers."
"What?!"
"I beg your pardon?"
Both Miranda and Andrea asked simultaneously.
"Well, as you can see we're not on stage right now, but the rest of the choir is." The conductor frowned and the blonde continued to explain. "While you were out there, singing your hearts out, we had an argument with Jacqueline. Or rather, Emily did. On your behalf, actually."
Miranda was impressed and she felt glad that she had decided to give Emily another chance.
"So when Emily said she would quit," the Brazilian walked back and intertwined her fingers with Emily's. "I didn't hesitate to follow."
"Wow," Andrea mumbled and the conductor had to agree. She allowed her lips to quirk in a semi smile and regarded Serena warmly.
"You know, that makes things a lot easier. You and I will need to have a talk when all this is over."
The blonde looked intrigued, but didn't press on. "Okay. Will do."
"Now, we better go back to our choir." Miranda slid her hand down from where it was still clasped around Andrea's arm and linked her fingers with the brunette's. "I would invite you in... but as long as you two still officially count as our competition, I don't think that would be a wise idea."
The other two women nodded, and with a final half-smile, Miranda turned and pulled Andrea back toward the prep room.
-----
"Ladies and gentlemen, we are ready to announce the winners."
Andy straightened her spine and tightened her hold on Miranda's hand. It was very cramped just off the stage and they stood together with two other choirs to the left, behind the curtains, and the other three entries, including the Sunshine Singers, were waiting to the right. Despite the fact that according to Nigel Jacqueline's choir had been awful, with a mediocre choice for songs and the noticeable absence of both Emily and Serena, Andy felt apprehensive. She didn't care so much about winning the competition herself, but beating Jacqueline was of utmost importance.
"Third place, and the winner of two-thousand-five-hundred dollars are... The Manhattan Senior Citizen Project."
A storm of applause swayed through the hall as the group of pensioned men and women walked happily onto the stage. Andy had enjoyed their well-arranged medley of Beatles songs and clapped in appreciation of a deserved third place. The singers accepted their trophy, and giddy like little children, they scampered off the stage again.
"Second place, and the winner of five-thousand dollars are... Vocalise."
It took a few beats for Andy to realise that they were called and she felt herself be swept up by the enthusiastic men and women around her as they poured onto the stage in ecstatic celebration. Within moments a large, tacky trophy was thrust into her hands and she stared out into the sea of the cheering audience in disbelief. A familiar hand pressing into her lower back shook her out of it and her lips broke into a huge smile. She looked up at Miranda and found only warmth.
They bowed and left the stage in a rustle of eager chattering and laughter, but back in their position behind the curtain a sudden weary tension settled over everyone. Winning second place was tremendous and utterly wonderful. However, the fact that Jacqueline's choir had not yet been called, still posed the possibility of the ‘Sunshine Singers’ walking out with the first prize. That idea was utter nauseating and Andy closed her eyes and crossed her fingers.
"And now... the Champions of the 2008 New York Choir Off, and winners of ten-thousand dollars are... The Harlem Juniors!"
Relief and a renewed belief in justice flooded through Andy as the boys and girls brushed past them and ran onto the stage only to be welcomed by a deafening applause. The young tenor who had sung the Bach solo accepted the trophy while his face was a perfect picture of euphoria. A celebration broke out on stage as the youngsters screamed happily and began to dance.
Andy watched the spectacle and leaned her head sideways to rest her temple against Miranda's shoulder. It was all over now. The correct choir had won, Jacqueline would go home empty-handed, and although Miranda would not be around for rehearsal anymore, the journalist felt confident that her and the older woman would share many wonderful moments together in the future, with and without the involvement of music. Life was good.
"I'm so happy," she whispered as Miranda tenderly teased her nails across the nape of Andy's neck.
"Me, too." The conductor replied and placed a soft kiss on top of the brunette's head.
They stood together and watched in silence how all other singers rushed past them and onto the stage to congratulate the winners. For a moment her and Miranda were spectators; two observers who took in the action around them as if it were an intriguing painting. The older woman's warmth and proximity became Andy's anchor and she inhaled deeply, pacifying the anxiety that had grown in her heart over the past weeks.
"Come, Darling. Let's join the celebration," Miranda murmured sweetly against her ear, and hugging the second place trophy against her chest, Andy nodded and followed her love back out onto the stage.
------
Epilogue
As she neared their building Andy quickened her step. It was a warm and sunny Friday afternoon in June and she had finished her work early in order to get home on time to pack. Miranda and her were about to embark on their first vacation together and it would be Andy’s first visit to Europe, so she wanted to make sure she checked, and double-checked everything she wanted to bring.
She nodded to the portier and hurried into the pristine elevator. She had quickly gotten used to the luxury of living in Miranda’s apartment, well, now their apartment, and for the first time since she had moved away from Cincinnati, she felt a true sense of ‘home’.
Unlocking the door she was greeted by the comforting and familiar smell of fresh flowers and the lingering scent of butter pancakes from this morning’s breakfast. She smiled as she dropped her keys into the bowl on the dresser, slipped out of her shoes and put down her laptop bag.
Miranda and Caroline wouldn’t be home for another two hours and Andy wanted to surprise them with dinner. First, however, she needed to pack. She padded into the master bedroom, and gripped by sudden giddiness at the fact that by this time tomorrow she’d be in Paris, she propelled herself forward and landed stomach first on their bed with a muffled thud.
“Andrea, must you startle me so?” Came an unexpected voice and the brunette jerked up her head in surprise.
“Speak for yourself!” She snorted as she narrowed her eyes at Miranda who regally leaned against the door frame to their walk-in closet. “You’re home early.”
“So are you,” the older woman replied with a crooked smirk as she sauntered over to Andy and sat down next to her on the bed.
“I wanted to get everything ready before you guys came home...”
“Hmmm, so did I,” Miranda murmured as she began stroking her palm down Andy’s spine and over the swell of her jeans-clad backside.
Andy bent her knees and alternately swung her feet up and down in the air like a seven-year-old.
“So, but Caroline is still at choir practice?” She inquired.
“Yes...” Miranda drawled and moved up and over to straddle Andy and sit on her lower back. Leaning all the way down and hugging herself firmly to the brunette she whispered, “... which gives us about one hour and forty-five minutes.”
The younger woman chuckled and raised her hips as well as she could under the other woman’s weight. She utterly loved coming home to a playful Miranda. The months since the choir competition had been extremely busy, but also quite fulfilling. It all seemed like a big blur of happiness.
On the Wednesday after the Choir Off Serena and Emily had shown up at choir rehearsal and Miranda had introduced the tall Brazilian as her replacement. The singers had been a bit sceptical of Serena, and especially of Emily at first, but within a few weeks, the exotic blonde had proven more than capable of stepping into Miranda's shoes.
Miranda had started teaching vocal training lessons at the conservatory a month later, and although her new job and setting up the new foundation with Jacques took up a lot of her time, her, Andy and Caroline were nicely settling into their life together as a family.
Caroline had started a little rock band with the raven haired Kenny and three other Dalton students, where she could put her new guitar skills to good use, and since she had thoroughly enjoyed the ‘Choir Off’ performances she had also joined her school’s choir. She could now walk freely without crutches or another person’s offered hand, and although she couldn’t really run yet, she was continuously making progress with the therapists. In a few days she would go on her first trip without parental guidance, a two week singing trip to Florida with Dalton’s Junior choir, although Andy guessed that most of the girl’s excitement had to do with the fact that Kenny was going too.
Andy herlself had written another series of articles on the subject of music education, one of which was about Miranda’s new project, and her constant delivery of high quality writing had moved her up a few ranks and landed her a permanent spot with the staff at the culture news section of the Mirror.
Things were going so well that sometimes Andy had to take a moment to remind herself she wasn’t dreaming, but actually awake, alive and happy.
“I ran into Jacqueline today,” Miranda suddenly whispered into her hair.
“Ugh, what did she want?” Andy scoffed at the sudden disruption of their blissful little moment.
“Oh nothing, I just saw her in the hallway at work and as soon as she spotted me she turned on her heel and walked the other way,” the older woman chuckled.
“Ha! Still afraid, I see. I think it’s because she’s waiting for the kick in the face that is never going to come.”
“What do you mean?” Miranda asked as she rubbed up and down Andy’s sides.
“Well, she most likely expects some kind of punishment, or a retaliation, but you’re not bothering with any of that and it must be keeping her on edge.”
The older woman’s chuckle sounded a tad maniacal. “Hmmm, maybe that is her punishment.”
Andy laughed and enjoyed the way the movement made them bounce together on the mattress. “Ha, you’re so evil! I love it!”
“Hmmm... keep that in mind for later...” Miranda purred and gently nibbled on the younger woman’s neck.
“You know, it’s really rather sad to lack the spine to stay by someone’s side when they are going through a horrible tragedy, but then feel so guilty and have the urge to remain close without having to actually apologise that you go and take over that person’s old job... hmmm,” Andy moaned as the older woman’s right hand curled around her hip and slipped under them to inch closer to the zipper of her jeans. “And you know, that day when you saw her again after five years and just blew her off like that, no wonder that she went berserk... hmmm... and stole away Emily and our music... ah... Mira...”
A tongue in her ear and the following seductively husky whisper were robbing her of all remaining coherent thoughts.
“Darling... I do not wish to discuss that woman any longer. So... shut up!”
“Yes, Mira...” Andy half giggled and half moaned as practiced fingers slipped into her pants.
---
The End.
Final A/N: You guys, I want to thank you all SO MUCH for sticking with me and this story for so long!!
Thanks so much for your feedback and all the kind words that have kept me going and inspired me to improve with each chapter. I could not have done it without you! Lots of hugs and kisses, and I hope to maybe have you read some of my future stories! :D
Rating: NC-17 - Mature (Some smut type situations in the beginning... ^_^)
Warning: Established character death. T__T
Pairing: Andy/Miranda
Length: 8500 (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 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14
A/N: Sorry for the long delay! I have no real excuse. I hope you guys will forgive me and enjoy the final part!
Chapter 15 - Final Chapter
Miranda had never been a morning person. She had always hated that moment of semi-lucidness, the slight disorientation and the imperfections of mussed hair, hooded eyes and unpleasant breath. Before the twins’ accident she had made a habit of rising early and showering away the kinks of the night and indulging in her first cup of coffee before interacting with anyone else.
After that fateful Christmas day five years ago, dawn and the accompanying physical and emotional grogginess had bled into the rest of the day and had turned the concept of morning into something even more unbearable. Facing yet another twenty-four hours after a restless night had been one of the most difficult things about her depression and even after she had begun to slowly get her life back in order, the early hours had still always been a time of day the conductor would have rather skipped.
That was, until Andrea had entered her life.
Now she loved nothing more than waking up to this new symphony of sensation. As soon as Morpheus bade his farewell, she would become aware of the heat of the younger woman’s body spooned against her or a limb draped over her abdomen. She would tingle from the delicious mixture of satin sheets against her body, crisp morning air on her face and the delicate softness of Andrea’s skin. Nothing filled her with such peace as listening to the brunette’s soft snores, and the often lingering scent of their previous night’s passion and heavy sleep bathed her in tremendous safety and comfort.
The morning of the finals was no exception. Miranda blinked against the diffuse light that filtered through the curtains and languidly stretched, curling her toes, flexing her calves and twisting her hips just a little, to shake off the remaining stiffness of the restful night.
She turned her head to gaze at her sleeping lover and reveled in the familiar warmth that flooded through her at the sight of the messy brunette locks that framed Andrea’s relaxed features. The younger woman was lying on her stomach, facing Miranda, and had one hand tucked under the pillow beneath her cheek. The conductor reached out and trailed her fingers over Andrea’s smooth cheekbones and tenderly brushed away some wayward strands of hair from her forehead.
The journalist usually slept like a rock and whereas waking her was somewhat of an undertaking, Miranda enjoyed it especially on mornings when they could take their time.
Her fingers travelled behind Andrea’s ear and began a languid journey down her neck, slipping under the covers and exploring the silken expanse of the younger woman’s bare back. The brunette was warm and so inviting that Miranda naturally drifted closer and pressed herself against the length of the delicious body as her hand wandered ever lower.
She brought her lips to a rounded shoulder and smiled against Andrea’s skin when her exploratory hand met the supple flesh of the younger woman’s butt. She gave a careful squeeze and intently watched the younger woman’s long, thick lashes flutter briefly, before Andrea shifted closer, mumbling sleepy nonsense and, with an adorable little sigh, snuggled more firmly against Miranda. The conductor continued to massage her way down to the back of Andrea’s thigh and then traced along the smooth dip below the firm derriere, from the outside of the younger woman’s leg, all the way to her centre.
“Hmmm...”
Miranda pulled back her head and studied the lazy smile that had settled on Andrea’s full lips. She stilled her hand, keeping the backs of her fingers pressed loosely against the damp heat between the brunette’s legs and waited. As predicted, the younger woman first raised an eyebrow, and then slowly blinked open her eyes and fixed her misty gaze on Miranda.
“Good morning, my Love,” the older woman murmured through a smirk and once again teased the sensitive flesh beneath her knuckles. Andrea replied with a languid backward roll of her hips and then stretched her neck to bridge the distance between them and plant a soft kiss on Miranda’s forehead.
“Morning, Mira.”
They stared into each other, remembering the intensity of their previous night’s lovemaking, and with a gentility that could only stem from their mutual trust and love, the younger woman reached out and dreamily caressed Miranda’s lips. Following the movement with her eyes she then smiled shyly and a sudden flush of pink to her cheeks signaled the vivid recollection of what they had experienced together just a few hours ago.
“Sore?” The conductor asked against Andrea’s fingertips, smugness and concern equally colouring her hushed voice.
“Only in the good places,” the younger woman answered. For emphasis she lifted her hips into Miranda’s hand again and rolled her eyes closed with a content sigh.
“I had no idea it could feel that way...” the brunette mumbled self-consciously. “... when technically it was the same as... you know...” she trailed off and seemed to get lost in the sensation of Miranda’s fingers fluttering so lightly against her.
“I’m glad you approved,” the conductor smirked and softly kissed Andrea’s palm.
The younger woman blinked and then looked back at her with a fire that momentarily took Miranda’s breath away.
“Approved? God, Mira, that doesn’t even begin to cover it!” Her cheeks took on a particularly beautiful shade of red as she continued in a mere whisper. “I absolutely loved it. In case you hadn’t noticed...” she finished with a smirk.
Shifting closer, Miranda nuzzled the brunette’s throat and then planted sweet kisses on her shoulder. “Yes, I kind of noticed. I’m actually quite happy that I didn’t use my hands.”
At this Andrea offered an inelegant “Huh?”.
“Darling, your thighs are so strong, I would have had to conduct with a wrist brace today...” She chuckled at the embarrassed grumble that bubbled up in the younger woman’s throat. “Not that I would have minded. I would carry it as a battle scar and trophy of glorious conquests.” She shuddered slightly at the blissful memory of Andrea’s legs firmly locking around her hips while she had rhythmically thrust so deeply into the younger woman’s welcoming core.
She had been a bit hesitant to introduce toys, priding herself in being more than capable of pleasuring her love just on her own. However a conversation a few days ago, where Andrea had claimed that she had never climaxed from plain intercourse with a man, always needing to give herself a hand, and that she must have simply not been wired that way, had inspired the conductor to prove to Andrea that it wasn’t about the tool, but rather about the person who wielded it.
After long, beautiful moments of writhing, tightly locked together in multiple orgasms, the brunette had readily agreed.
Miranda sighed into the dark, silken tresses of her lover’s hair and allowed her inquisitive fingers to brush more firmly against the slick heat between Andrea’s thighs. “So you’re not too sore to...”
“Never!” The younger woman croaked before Miranda could even finish her question and after a beat they both snorted at the abrupt declaration.
“Hmmm... insatiable...” the conductor drawled. “What ever am I going to do with you?”
“Do unto others as you would have them do unto you...” the brunette quoted cheekily as she raised her butt one more time and began opening her legs.
Miranda grinned.
“Well, in that case...”
She turned her wrist and carefully drove two fingers deeply into Andrea, eliciting those heavenly whimpers that were quickly becoming her favourite sound in the world.
----
To say that Andy was overwhelmed by nerves would probably be an understatement. She was riddled with the kind of high-pitched excitement that made it a challenge to keep down her food; the kind that made her palms sweat and sent her heart into a superficial flutter that didn’t seem quite strong enough to allow oxygen to reach into all the important parts of her body.
The journalist found herself pacing in the backstage area where the muffled noise of the gradually filling main hall echoed in her ears with a steady hum that kept her on edge. Andy wasn’t even sure why exactly she was so anxious. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d sing on stage. There had been the Christmas concert about three months ago, and back then she had been devoid of any signs of stage fright. Granted, she had been preoccupied with her growing attraction and affection for Miranda at the time, but in essence, singing in a church and singing on stage in a sold out Carnegie Hall during the final of a prestigious competition, were the same thing.
Well, actually, they weren’t at all.
The brunette wrung her hands and attempted not to think about how huge the audience would be. Only a week ago she had been sitting in one of those seats herself when her choir had managed just fine without her. Then why did it feel like such a daunting challenge to go out on that stage and simple do what she loved so much?
She checked her cell phone for a message from Caroline, who had spent the night back at the Hamptons. The teenager was in charge of finding Andy’s parents and make sure they and Miranda’s parents got along while sitting together during their daughters’ performance. The rest of the choir was still in the prep room where Andy herself had been just a few moments ago, before her friends had more or less kicked her out because she was transferring her nerves over to the other singers.
If only Miranda would get there already. It may have been twenty minutes before the opening speech, and another fifty minutes before Vocalise were supposed to be on stage, so there was plenty of time left. However Andy knew she needed the older woman by her side just to be able to calm down and find some peace. She was aware that Miranda had a meeting with Irv to talk about the future of the choir, but she wasn’t entirely convinced that, right now, just before the final round of the most important choral competition in New York City, was the best moment.
Her phone vibrated and she quickly opened Caroline’s message.
All grand-parental units safe and accounted for. Will go and find our seats now.
For a few seconds the idea that Miranda’s daughter would refer to Andy’s parents as grand-parents eased most of the worries from the brunette’s mind. Of course it was a bit too early for that designation, and it may just have been one of those teenage things, like calling anyone above the age of fifty “granny” or “grandpa”, but nonetheless the thought of it warmed Andy’s heart. She gazed at the phone with a fond smile on her lips and then proceeded to text back her thanks.
Then finally she heard the faint clacking of heels approaching from down the hallway and a blanket of calm settled over her at the familiar stride. She had her back turned to the direction of the sound, but all her senses were acutely aware of Miranda and she welcomed the warm hands that slipped around her middle and pulled her into a gentle embrace.
“Hello, Darling,” the older woman’s soft voice curled soothingly around Andy’s spine. “Did Nigel kick you out?”
The brunette snorted, but then nodded. “Yeah. I think I was driving them a bit crazy. I don’t really know why I’m so nervous.”
Miranda tenderly kissed the back of her neck and then stepped around the younger woman, cupping her cheek and gazing lovingly into brown eyes.
“Andrea, it doesn’t matter what happens today. We will go onto that stage and give the very best performance we’re capable of. Whether we win or lose isn’t important.”
Andy looked down between them and drew her lips into a halfhearted pout. “But what about Jacqueline... and Emily...? What if they win?” She shuddered at the thought of the ‘villains’ getting away with everything.
Miranda gently tugged at the brunette’s chin and forced their eyes to lock again.
“Darling, right now all that matters is us and our music. Nobody else deserves any kind of consideration, especially not traitors or petty thieves. We’re not here to beat anyone.” She trailed her thumb across Andy’s lips. “We’re here to sing.”
There was a vibrant sparkle in the older woman’s eyes that brought out the subtle green undertones. It was a mixture of mischief, conviction and a hunger for the challenge to surpass oneself, and all three were drenched in the love and affection Andy found directed only at herself. Nearly frozen in place from the awe at so much life and positive energy coming from Miranda, the brunette managed to reach up and pull the conductor against herself, and she took deep, steadying breaths that allowed her to absorb more of the wonderful woman in her arms.
“I love you,” she whispered into silky, silver hair and enjoyed the feel of Miranda’s arms tightening around her.
“And I you,” the older woman murmured sweetly against her lips.
Andy smiled. “My parents are here. Caroline is getting them to their seats.” The conductor nodded in acknowledgement and brushed a strand of hair from the brunette’s forehead. For a short moment they simply gazed at each other lovingly and nearly forgot where they were, and why.
Miranda looked radiant and more than ready for her big moment. She might have had plenty of experience leading choirs to victory in this particular competition, however tonight would be the first occasion where an audience heard the conductor’s own compositions.
Andy was tremendously proud of the older woman and as she gazed back at her love she thought that Miranda had never looked more beautiful. The dark blue of her sparkling, strapless dress matched the choir’s robes and her typical silver forelock had been brushed back to allow a clear, open view of her beautiful face. Sapphire drop earrings completed the ethereal outfit and the brunette made a mental note to have their picture taken before the night was over.
“Oh. By the way, how did things go with Rumpelstiltskin?” She suddenly remembered to ask.
Miranda snorted and pulled up her bare shoulders as she lifted a hand to elegantly cover her mouth and hide her snickering. “Rumpelstiltskin?”
The younger woman’s timid smile transformed into a lazy grin. “Well, yeah... What, you don’t like my name for Irv?”
“No, no. It’s perfect! Too perfect,” the conductor chuckled. “You and your brilliant mind.” She placed a tiny kiss on Andy’s nose, careful not to leave a smudge of her lipstick, and the brunette’s chest nearly combusted with affection at the gesture.
“Everything is fine.” At the younger woman’s raised eyebrow Miranda stepped away and distractedly slid her fingers along the pleats at the front of Andrea’s robes. “I’ll inform you of the exact details after our performance, but for now you may know that Mr. Ravitz will allow the choir to remain, regardless of today’s outcome.”
“Oh, that’s great news, Mira!” Andy beamed, feeling the last of her earlier tension fall away in relief.
The older woman’s gaze tightened in brief contemplation, but then she curled her fingers into the white stole around Andy’s neck and used it to pull her in for a loving kiss.
“It is,” she whispered sweetly once they had parted again. “We should go back and tell the others before the show starts.”
The younger woman nodded and tenderly twined their fingers together, before tugging Miranda toward the prep room.
-----
Their competition was fierce. The conductor swallowed down the small but persistent lump that had formed in her throat as soon as the first choir had appeared on stage. The 'Harlem Juniors' were exceptionally good. The large group of boys and girls with mostly welfare family backgrounds were singing Johann Sebastian Bach's ‘Magnificat’ in D.
Magnificently.
Andrea had written two articles about the government funded initiative which had supported music education programs like the Harlem Juniors until its stagnation seven months ago. Miranda had read all of the journalist's research and it had played a big part in her decisions regarding the future. It wasn't just Andrea's compelling writing that had roused the conductor's interest in the musical education of children, particularly youngsters in disadvantaged neighbourhoods. The younger woman's vigorous research and empathic engagement behind the words, which Miranda had been privileged to witness, had also greatly effected the older woman.
The idea that a self-serving elite could take away arts and music from those who would benefit from them the most was puzzling to her, and although she lacked the righteousness-driven political energy Andrea seemed to put forth in her writing, Miranda had become aware of her desire to contribute. Music was supposed to exist for everyone. It certainly existed in everyone. The beautiful voices of the boys and girls currently on stage were a testimony to that.
A young tenor and an alto, both about Caroline's age proceeded to give an incredibly emotional rendition of 'Et Misericordia'. Miranda could hear a few, minor technical difficulties, but especially the boy soloist delivered his lines with such beautiful inflection that the conductor had pleasant shivers running down her spine. Talent like that screamed to be cherished and nurtured.
Miranda worried if the current performance would be detrimental to her own choir's singing. 'Vocalise' were ready and waiting for their turn, just to the side of the stage. The conductor gazed at Andrea, who was leaning against a wall and had closed her eyes in appreciation as she listened to the beautiful baroque harmonies. Miranda figured that the journalist probably felt pride and a sense of contentment at seeing that the choir from an after school program she had passionately written about for many months, and had tried to save from extinction, was doing so well.
There was a big difference between a Manhattan community centre choir for working middle class adults who paid their own membership fee and viewed singing as a fun past-time activity, and a choir that not only kept Harlem children off the streets, but also offered them a future in what, as sad as it sounded, was still a world dominated by privileged white families, who could afford to send their sons and daughters to world-renowned conservatories at an early age.
The ‘Harlem Juniors’ began the final song of Bach's Vespers masterpiece by correctly building up the tension with perfect harmonies; starting with their impressive bass singers, then joined by the tenors, enriching the sound and opening up for the altos and then finally the sopranos, creating a cascade of melody that visibly enthralled the breathless audience. The Carnegie Hall Orchestra, no doubt inspired by the blatant skill of the singers on stage, did their very best with the typically pompous melodies of Bach, rousing everyone in the large auditorium and setting a rather high standard for the evening to come.
Miranda found herself smiling. She had told Andrea the truth earlier, winning or losing truly did not matter to her at this point. It might have been important five years ago, when pushing her then choir to new heights with a strict hand had been her entire life. However, a lot had changed since then.
She took a deep breath while the Harlem Juniors finished into a storm of enthusiastic applause. Briefly looking up at Andrea, who had stepped to her side and gently squeezed her hand, Miranda steeled her mind. This was it. The moment of truth, quite literally.
The short trip up into the spotlight happened more or less in a state of trance and before the older woman had a chance to second guess herself in regards to what she was about to share, Nigel sat up straight behind the grand piano and gave her an encouraging grin.
Exchanging one final, soothing look with Andrea, she poised her hands in the air, demanding her choir's utmost attention. This was her element, standing at the helm, being in command, and although she was about to relent a certain amount of control by having the singers give voice to her emotions about the twins' accident, she felt a sense of calm envelop her and flow through her veins as she signaled to Andrea and Douglas to begin.
Their voices worked so well together as they depicted that peaceful Christmas Night five years ago. Miranda could feel herself be transported back to that moment where she had sleepily padded down the stairs to answer the front door. The rest of the choir joined in to slowly built the apprehension the conductor had felt when the police offers had come into view, and then four different voices split into six to dramatically highlight the moment of realisation.
There was no point in holding back her tears as she guided the choir through what Andrea had named the ‘First Act’; the moment everything changed. Seven days ago Miranda had sat down in front of the singers, and with the help of Andrea, had told them about her girls. The story had inspired the men and women right away and no further explanation had been necessary as they had begun daily, vigorous rehearsals of the composition with, at times, very intricate passages. Miranda didn't need to hide anything now. Her tears were simply a logical consequence of opening up her heart to share the music with her choir and with the audience.
Act Two was pretty much a journey of solitary melancholy. The conductor felt glad that she had decided to let Andrea be the voice of her emotions as the brunette sang her solo of the twins' lament. The warm resonance of her vibrato reached deep into the hearts of singers and audience alike, and Miranda knew that their special bond and the younger woman's in-depth knowledge of what Miranda had been through, enhanced every note with the colour of sincere empathy and sorrow. The rigid lock between their gazes kept the conductor grounded, and she knew that without Andrea she would not be able to hold herself together.
As beautiful and perfect as it was, Miranda was glad when the rest of the choir joined in and signaled the progression to the third and final act. The mending. The sutures that closed her wounds. Embracing the warm heart of the person who came to love her unconditionally. Is wasn't exactly the euphoria of a Bach, or the colourful enigma of Vivaldi, but with her love's help Miranda had created a slowly ascending possibility for true and utter happiness, not just in this piece of music, but also in her life.
She blinding smile she received from Andrea after the final note had been sung set her skin tingling with relief and an intense feeling of accomplishment. The applause they received was deafening and it rose up behind her liked a tsunami of sympathy and confirmation. She allowed the praise to wash over her as she turned on the spot and bowed together with her singers. When she straightened back up her eyes browsed over the many faces until she encountered the bouncy vision of Caroline ecstatically clapping her hands together between two sets of immensely pleased looking parents.
She felt elated and indescribably happy, and as soon as they had walked off the stage and into their prep room she grabbed a slightly startled Andrea by the collar of her robes and crashed their lips together.
----
Andy knew she was probably glowing like an idiot. Their performance had been spectacular and better than she could have ever imagined. Miranda had been brilliant, and the way she had opened up and had let her heart shine from her very core as she had so elegantly moved her arms and hands to guide them, had made Andy fall in love with her all over again.
Never mind the frantic and fantastic way she was kissing her right now, in full view of the rest of the choir. When their tongues met Andy instinctively, and aided by a rush of adrenaline, cupped the conductor's exquisite backside to pull her closer, until a rather impressed sounding whistle from her left alerted her to the fact that they weren't alone. She sheepishly slid her hands upward and then released the older woman's lips only to break out into a grin so wide she was sure it would tear the corners of her mouth.
Miranda was radiant.
"That was amazing, Mira. You were fantastic," she whispered.
The conductor allowed the most adorable smile Andy had ever seen outside of their bedroom.
"So were you." The older woman then looked up and around the prep room. "All of you." She slowly let go of the brunette and stepped away to address the choir properly.
"You are the best choir a conductor could ever have. I'm incredibly proud of all of you."
Andy stroked the back Miranda's hand and basked in the happy feeling a simple praise from the older woman could have on the singers. They beamed like young children who had accomplished an impossible task and pleasantly surprised their parents.
Doug stepped forward. "We couldn't have done it without you, Miranda. You've taught us so much in such a short time. You showed us how to become vulnerable and let the music touch us, how to work together and how to create something worthwhile." He briefly turned to the rest of the singers before finishing, "You are the best conductor a choir could wish for, Miranda, and with you we will be able to do anything in the future."
The other men and women cheered and clapped their hands in approval of his speech as Doug grinned warmly at the conductor. Andy, however, could feel Miranda tense under her fingers and a tingling sense of panic subdued the ecstatic warmth in the brunette's heart.
"About that..." the conductor began hesitantly. "Earlier, I when I spoke to Irv about the future of the choir..." she looked at Andy and clasped her hand a little tighter. "I also... informed him of my resignation as conductor and choral director at the community centre."
As Andy felt her muscles go rigid in shock at the news, the rest of the choir became engulfed in a low murmur of disbelief. The conductor pressed the brunette's hand to her chest and stroked soothingly over Andy's knuckles, seeming displeased that her love had to hear about her decision at the same time as everyone else.
"I'm taking up a teaching position at a conservatory here in New York, and I'm also going to set up a foundation to help finance the art and music education programs in the less... fortunate neighbourhoods running, now that all governmental aid has been withdrawn."
Andy wasn't sure what to feel. She hadn't even considered the possibility of Miranda no longer being their conductor. Having her around for each rehearsal had become a comfortable constant in her life and having to miss that in the future filled the brunette with a sense of loss. However, the fire in Miranda's eyes as she spoke about her plans, had struck a particular nerve, and Andy couldn't help but think that her own passionate engagement had somehow influenced the older woman's decision making. The idea of Miranda helping children such as the ‘Harlem Juniors’ was oddly appealing and made Andy feel a little proud.
Something in the older woman's features seemed to plead, and catching herself, Andy softened her eyes and gazed back at her love with warmth and understanding. She nodded and allowed her clasped fingers to brush against the smooth skin on Miranda's chest, and a visible ripple of relief eased the tension from the older woman's shoulders.
"I will stay with you until we have found a suitable replacement," Miranda addressed the rest of the choir again. "This decision has nothing to do with how much I enjoyed teaching you. Rather, it was my reconnection with teaching music that has opened my mind about what musical education truly means to me."
Nigel stepped forward and rested his hands on Miranda's shoulders.
"We understand." He smiled warmly. "You will be missed, but we understand. Don't we, guys?" He turned toward the singers and they nodded and, albeit reluctantly, murmured their agreement.
The conductor allowed another grateful smile and then gazed back at Andy, who still hadn't spoken. The younger woman was a bit weary of how everyone seemed to wait for her to react, but what she had to say to Miranda was private, so she tugged at the older woman's hand and pulled her toward the door. Once back outside in the empty hallway she immediately slipped her arms around Miranda's middle and hugged her tightly. The sense of loss she had felt earlier had vanished when the conductor had explained, however feeling Miranda lean into her and having her love's warm breath soothingly caress the area just below her ear helped the journalist to calm her still racing heart.
"Are you alright?" The conductor queried softly.
Andy replied by tightening her grasp and nodding her head where it rested in the crook between Miranda's throat and shoulder.
"I just..." she mumbled against the older woman's satin skin, "For a moment there I thought I would lose you..."
Miranda's arms firmed their hold around Andy and the conductor whispered, "you silly, silly creature." She placed tender kisses against the brunette's hair and inhaled deeply. "I could never leave you."
"I know," the younger woman hurried to say. "I know that, Mira. And the plans for your future fill me with pride. I will be there to support you all the way." Her grasp slackened a little when she began to feel embarrassed. "I just... I guess I'm so used to having you around with everything that has to do with music these days that the thought of being lead by anyone but you seems... sad. And uninspiring."
"Darling, we will still share all that," Miranda said as she stroked gently through Andy's hair. "And I will make sure someone competent takes the job."
The brunette looked up and the crooked smile she found on the older woman's lips told her that Miranda already had somebody in mind.
"Alright. I trust your judgement," Andy chuckled.
"So, a foundation to help make arts and music education available for disadvantaged children. That's pretty big," the younger woman prodded further.
Miranda's eyes fixated on Andy's lips and she tilted her head and jutted her chin forward in a way that signaled she was about to explain something important.
"Yes. Remember my friend Jacques who owns the patisserie we took your parents to?"
Andy nodded while studying the thoroughly adorable expression on Miranda's face. It showed that the conductor was excited and proud of the plans she had come up with, and although Andy wasn't entirely sure why Miranda hadn't told her earlier, going into greater details and finally sharing everything with her love seemed to truly please the older woman.
"Well, as you know Jacques is a professor at the conservatory and after reading your articles and following our conversations regarding your research, I realised that I wanted to help. I'm no 'Good Samaritan'," Miranda said as she brought her hands together on Andy's upper chest and began fidgeting with her fingers. "I first and foremost wish to teach those who are willing and who have talent. But I agree with you that it should never matter of which social standing somebody is." She looked up and Andy saw love shimmer in her eyes.
"Beside Caroline and you, music is my one passion. I realised over the past months that it is something worth sharing, and that by opening myself to others in that way, my life becomes enriched. So, I had a talk with my old friend and now we are in the process of setting up a special scholarship program, as well as a plan to fund and enhance the local programs that are already in place. That way, those children who excel during the basic music lessons will have a chance to attend the conservatory in the future."
Andy's chest swelled with a plethora of positivity. Pride, relief and endearment filled her heart. The woman in her arms, who only months ago had been broken, withdrawn and barely able to function in social situation without murdering someone with her glares, was now glowing with a hunger for life and an eagerness to make a real difference. It tickled the journalist and activist inside Andy, but most of all it made her understand that this was the one person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.
-----
"M-Miranda?"
The timid voice startled both women out of their embrace. The conductor looked behind them and spotted Emily standing a few feet away, face twisted into an apologetic grimace as she fidgeted with her hands. Serena was by her side, supportive hands on the redhead's tense shoulders and offering a friendly smile.
"What do you want?!" Andrea spoke rather harshly as she crossed her arms in front of her chest, ready for battle.
"I... uhm..."
The blonde gave her a gentle pat and stepped forward.
"Emily wants to apologize."
Under normal circumstances, Miranda wouldn't have allowed an apology. She would have turned on her heel and ignored whichever imbecile had pissed her off to begin with. However, something in Emily's face, and the way Serena stood in front of the redhead, basically speaking on her behalf, compelled her to at least listen. She placed a calming hand on Andrea's lower arm which had tensed considerably during the recent seconds, and nodded for the Briton to begin.
"I...I didn't know." Emily stammered, looking intently at the tips of her toes.
"Didn't know what?" Andrea spat.
The redhead looked up and the pleading in her gaze seemed genuine, even to Miranda.
"Anything."
The conductor pursed her lips and waited.
"What I did was... wrong, and inexcusable. I betrayed your trust and put the choir in jeopardy..." Emily sniffled and her friend stepped closer to replace her hands on the redhead's shoulders, where she proceeded to rub soothingly.
"I was selfish and acted like a child."
Miranda nodded in agreement.
"I didn't know what Jacqueline was up to when she offered me a spot in the choir and I was too blinded by my own hurt," she blinked back tears, "to think rationally."
Andrea's angry tension was already gone. Miranda knew that the brunette was sometimes quick-tempered, but genuine regret could just as easily make her forgive anyone for nearly anything. The conductor couldn't really blame Emily for having feelings for Andrea. There was something profoundly wrong with a person if they didn't love or at least feel attracted to the beautiful young woman. What had prompted the redhead to run off and leak their set list to the competition, though, still puzzled Miranda.
"How did you end up at my old choir?" she asked, striking down the British woman with a glare set to very nearly kill.
"Uhm... after you ran into her at the Bulgarian concert... I kind of asked her how she knew you. I guess I thought I could dig up some juicy history on you, to make you leave the choir..." The redhead refused to look directly at Andrea. "... and everything could go back to the way it was. Of course Jacqueline didn't say anything, but she clearly saw that I was distraught, so she offered me a solo part in the competition. All I had to do was get her the list of songs for the Choir Off, which of course as your assistant I constantly carried with me."
The conductor squared her shoulders as she thought about how low Jacqueline was willing to go in order to win. Not only had she abandoned her career in opera costume design to become a choral director, but of all choirs in New York, she had chosen the one which had been Miranda's entire life for nearly a decade. Something nagged at the silver-haired woman, but she knew she didn't necessarily want another confrontation with the Frenchwoman to get confirmation for her suspicions.
"After the competition last week Serena told me the truth. She told me everything. About your daughters, Jacqueline, your disappearance from the world of music..." Emily steeled her gaze to directly look at Miranda. "I felt like a right twat. I... I'm truly, truly sorry. I don't think there are words to express how bad I feel about everything..."
The conductor could feel Andrea's expectant gaze on her. The young woman really had a much too soft heart, but then again, that was one of the many qualities Miranda cherished in her.
Miranda regarded the redhead for a while. Forgiveness or kindness didn't come easy to her and she couldn't just forget what Emily had done. On the other hand, Jacqueline had a way to enthrall people and make them act in irrational ways. The Briton had been guided by hurt and anger, and in the end her betrayal hadn't really cost them anything. Had the set list not been leaked, Miranda would never have finished her composition, let alone shared it in public.
"I accept your apology."
The shock in Emily's face showed that she hadn't actually expected that response, and the conductor felt slightly smug.
"Uhm... th-thank you..."
Serena beamed at them. It spoke volumes for her character that for as long as the tension had existed between her new friend and Miranda, she had chosen to remain by Emily's side. Now, that things had been more or less cleared up, she walked over to properly greet the older woman. She pressed her cheek to Miranda's and then pulled back with a radiant smile.
"Miranda, I'm very glad to see you again!" She then turned to Andrea and extended her arm.
"My name is Serena." They shook hands. "Emily and I just quit the Sunshine Singers."
"What?!"
"I beg your pardon?"
Both Miranda and Andrea asked simultaneously.
"Well, as you can see we're not on stage right now, but the rest of the choir is." The conductor frowned and the blonde continued to explain. "While you were out there, singing your hearts out, we had an argument with Jacqueline. Or rather, Emily did. On your behalf, actually."
Miranda was impressed and she felt glad that she had decided to give Emily another chance.
"So when Emily said she would quit," the Brazilian walked back and intertwined her fingers with Emily's. "I didn't hesitate to follow."
"Wow," Andrea mumbled and the conductor had to agree. She allowed her lips to quirk in a semi smile and regarded Serena warmly.
"You know, that makes things a lot easier. You and I will need to have a talk when all this is over."
The blonde looked intrigued, but didn't press on. "Okay. Will do."
"Now, we better go back to our choir." Miranda slid her hand down from where it was still clasped around Andrea's arm and linked her fingers with the brunette's. "I would invite you in... but as long as you two still officially count as our competition, I don't think that would be a wise idea."
The other two women nodded, and with a final half-smile, Miranda turned and pulled Andrea back toward the prep room.
-----
"Ladies and gentlemen, we are ready to announce the winners."
Andy straightened her spine and tightened her hold on Miranda's hand. It was very cramped just off the stage and they stood together with two other choirs to the left, behind the curtains, and the other three entries, including the Sunshine Singers, were waiting to the right. Despite the fact that according to Nigel Jacqueline's choir had been awful, with a mediocre choice for songs and the noticeable absence of both Emily and Serena, Andy felt apprehensive. She didn't care so much about winning the competition herself, but beating Jacqueline was of utmost importance.
"Third place, and the winner of two-thousand-five-hundred dollars are... The Manhattan Senior Citizen Project."
A storm of applause swayed through the hall as the group of pensioned men and women walked happily onto the stage. Andy had enjoyed their well-arranged medley of Beatles songs and clapped in appreciation of a deserved third place. The singers accepted their trophy, and giddy like little children, they scampered off the stage again.
"Second place, and the winner of five-thousand dollars are... Vocalise."
It took a few beats for Andy to realise that they were called and she felt herself be swept up by the enthusiastic men and women around her as they poured onto the stage in ecstatic celebration. Within moments a large, tacky trophy was thrust into her hands and she stared out into the sea of the cheering audience in disbelief. A familiar hand pressing into her lower back shook her out of it and her lips broke into a huge smile. She looked up at Miranda and found only warmth.
They bowed and left the stage in a rustle of eager chattering and laughter, but back in their position behind the curtain a sudden weary tension settled over everyone. Winning second place was tremendous and utterly wonderful. However, the fact that Jacqueline's choir had not yet been called, still posed the possibility of the ‘Sunshine Singers’ walking out with the first prize. That idea was utter nauseating and Andy closed her eyes and crossed her fingers.
"And now... the Champions of the 2008 New York Choir Off, and winners of ten-thousand dollars are... The Harlem Juniors!"
Relief and a renewed belief in justice flooded through Andy as the boys and girls brushed past them and ran onto the stage only to be welcomed by a deafening applause. The young tenor who had sung the Bach solo accepted the trophy while his face was a perfect picture of euphoria. A celebration broke out on stage as the youngsters screamed happily and began to dance.
Andy watched the spectacle and leaned her head sideways to rest her temple against Miranda's shoulder. It was all over now. The correct choir had won, Jacqueline would go home empty-handed, and although Miranda would not be around for rehearsal anymore, the journalist felt confident that her and the older woman would share many wonderful moments together in the future, with and without the involvement of music. Life was good.
"I'm so happy," she whispered as Miranda tenderly teased her nails across the nape of Andy's neck.
"Me, too." The conductor replied and placed a soft kiss on top of the brunette's head.
They stood together and watched in silence how all other singers rushed past them and onto the stage to congratulate the winners. For a moment her and Miranda were spectators; two observers who took in the action around them as if it were an intriguing painting. The older woman's warmth and proximity became Andy's anchor and she inhaled deeply, pacifying the anxiety that had grown in her heart over the past weeks.
"Come, Darling. Let's join the celebration," Miranda murmured sweetly against her ear, and hugging the second place trophy against her chest, Andy nodded and followed her love back out onto the stage.
------
Epilogue
As she neared their building Andy quickened her step. It was a warm and sunny Friday afternoon in June and she had finished her work early in order to get home on time to pack. Miranda and her were about to embark on their first vacation together and it would be Andy’s first visit to Europe, so she wanted to make sure she checked, and double-checked everything she wanted to bring.
She nodded to the portier and hurried into the pristine elevator. She had quickly gotten used to the luxury of living in Miranda’s apartment, well, now their apartment, and for the first time since she had moved away from Cincinnati, she felt a true sense of ‘home’.
Unlocking the door she was greeted by the comforting and familiar smell of fresh flowers and the lingering scent of butter pancakes from this morning’s breakfast. She smiled as she dropped her keys into the bowl on the dresser, slipped out of her shoes and put down her laptop bag.
Miranda and Caroline wouldn’t be home for another two hours and Andy wanted to surprise them with dinner. First, however, she needed to pack. She padded into the master bedroom, and gripped by sudden giddiness at the fact that by this time tomorrow she’d be in Paris, she propelled herself forward and landed stomach first on their bed with a muffled thud.
“Andrea, must you startle me so?” Came an unexpected voice and the brunette jerked up her head in surprise.
“Speak for yourself!” She snorted as she narrowed her eyes at Miranda who regally leaned against the door frame to their walk-in closet. “You’re home early.”
“So are you,” the older woman replied with a crooked smirk as she sauntered over to Andy and sat down next to her on the bed.
“I wanted to get everything ready before you guys came home...”
“Hmmm, so did I,” Miranda murmured as she began stroking her palm down Andy’s spine and over the swell of her jeans-clad backside.
Andy bent her knees and alternately swung her feet up and down in the air like a seven-year-old.
“So, but Caroline is still at choir practice?” She inquired.
“Yes...” Miranda drawled and moved up and over to straddle Andy and sit on her lower back. Leaning all the way down and hugging herself firmly to the brunette she whispered, “... which gives us about one hour and forty-five minutes.”
The younger woman chuckled and raised her hips as well as she could under the other woman’s weight. She utterly loved coming home to a playful Miranda. The months since the choir competition had been extremely busy, but also quite fulfilling. It all seemed like a big blur of happiness.
On the Wednesday after the Choir Off Serena and Emily had shown up at choir rehearsal and Miranda had introduced the tall Brazilian as her replacement. The singers had been a bit sceptical of Serena, and especially of Emily at first, but within a few weeks, the exotic blonde had proven more than capable of stepping into Miranda's shoes.
Miranda had started teaching vocal training lessons at the conservatory a month later, and although her new job and setting up the new foundation with Jacques took up a lot of her time, her, Andy and Caroline were nicely settling into their life together as a family.
Caroline had started a little rock band with the raven haired Kenny and three other Dalton students, where she could put her new guitar skills to good use, and since she had thoroughly enjoyed the ‘Choir Off’ performances she had also joined her school’s choir. She could now walk freely without crutches or another person’s offered hand, and although she couldn’t really run yet, she was continuously making progress with the therapists. In a few days she would go on her first trip without parental guidance, a two week singing trip to Florida with Dalton’s Junior choir, although Andy guessed that most of the girl’s excitement had to do with the fact that Kenny was going too.
Andy herlself had written another series of articles on the subject of music education, one of which was about Miranda’s new project, and her constant delivery of high quality writing had moved her up a few ranks and landed her a permanent spot with the staff at the culture news section of the Mirror.
Things were going so well that sometimes Andy had to take a moment to remind herself she wasn’t dreaming, but actually awake, alive and happy.
“I ran into Jacqueline today,” Miranda suddenly whispered into her hair.
“Ugh, what did she want?” Andy scoffed at the sudden disruption of their blissful little moment.
“Oh nothing, I just saw her in the hallway at work and as soon as she spotted me she turned on her heel and walked the other way,” the older woman chuckled.
“Ha! Still afraid, I see. I think it’s because she’s waiting for the kick in the face that is never going to come.”
“What do you mean?” Miranda asked as she rubbed up and down Andy’s sides.
“Well, she most likely expects some kind of punishment, or a retaliation, but you’re not bothering with any of that and it must be keeping her on edge.”
The older woman’s chuckle sounded a tad maniacal. “Hmmm, maybe that is her punishment.”
Andy laughed and enjoyed the way the movement made them bounce together on the mattress. “Ha, you’re so evil! I love it!”
“Hmmm... keep that in mind for later...” Miranda purred and gently nibbled on the younger woman’s neck.
“You know, it’s really rather sad to lack the spine to stay by someone’s side when they are going through a horrible tragedy, but then feel so guilty and have the urge to remain close without having to actually apologise that you go and take over that person’s old job... hmmm,” Andy moaned as the older woman’s right hand curled around her hip and slipped under them to inch closer to the zipper of her jeans. “And you know, that day when you saw her again after five years and just blew her off like that, no wonder that she went berserk... hmmm... and stole away Emily and our music... ah... Mira...”
A tongue in her ear and the following seductively husky whisper were robbing her of all remaining coherent thoughts.
“Darling... I do not wish to discuss that woman any longer. So... shut up!”
“Yes, Mira...” Andy half giggled and half moaned as practiced fingers slipped into her pants.
---
The End.
Final A/N: You guys, I want to thank you all SO MUCH for sticking with me and this story for so long!!
Thanks so much for your feedback and all the kind words that have kept me going and inspired me to improve with each chapter. I could not have done it without you! Lots of hugs and kisses, and I hope to maybe have you read some of my future stories! :D