(no subject)
Miranda in the Garden of Good and Evil, (Parts 9 & 10)
author Coco // i_heart_cuddy
rating R
disclaimer I don't own The Devil Wears Prada or the characters herein. I make no profit off of this and there is no infringement intended.
pairing Miranda/Andy (eventually)
summary Fantasy. Miranda Priestly, the Ice Queen, the Dragon Lady, is a force to be reckoned with, an indelible force of nature, a mythical halfbreed.
author's note I'm pretending Nate doesn't exist, as most femmeslashers do, I suppose.
Miranda put the headphones into her ears and slept for a few hours. Andy had asked the stewardess for a pack of crayons and was coloring the rainbow pony.
Miranda stretched as best she could and Priestly, who was sitting in her lap looked up from a pup nap, only to conclude that nothing was happening that required his attention. She looked over at Andy’s drawing. “You’re a better colorer than the girls.”
“I’ve had more years of practice,” Andy smiled a little, “I only have four colors, it’s a pretty poor excuse for a rainbow.”
Andy looked over at Miranda’s long slender fingers and she reached out and gingerly touched them. Miranda turned her hand over and Andy slid her palm over Miranda’s and threaded her fingers through hers. “Will you tell me a little about you?”
Miranda looked over at her.
“Since you’re not really Miranda.” Andy smiled.
Miranda nodded a little, “I was raised in Cornwall. I’ve lived there, London, Bordeaux, Cannes, Paris, Summit, New Jersey- don’t ask- and New York. I liked Cannes the best but I haven’t been there in a long time.”
“What year were you born?”
“That’s not polite, Andrea.” Miranda smirked.
Andy laughed, “I’m sure you look really great for your age.”
“Regardless.” Miranda pursed her lips.
“Did you meet any cool people?”
“Miranda Priestly has met a lot of cool people. You should read her biography sometime.” Miranda hid a playfully coy smile.
“You put me on a 6 hour plane ride without letting me get my laptop, a book, an iPod, Sudoku, nothing and you’re not at least going to entertain me?” Miranda looked up at Andy who batted her eyelashes.
Miranda couldn’t help but smile a little.
“You mean to tell me that I’m not the only one who can manipulate people?” Miranda let herself smile.
“Damn straight.” Andy grinned. Her heart did flips when she saw Miranda smile. “We can do question for question and I promise I won’t ask how old you are.”
“Alright. You ask first since it’s your game.”
Andy thought for a moment and touched her stomach, “what’s it like to be pregnant?”
“Well,” Miranda paused in thought, “it’s kind of the best and worst thing in the world because you know you have this little thing inside you that you’re going to love unconditionally for the rest of your life. But you can’t have coffee, you have to be hyper conscious of everything you put in your body, you have to make sure you get enough vitamins every day. You have violent mood swings, you gain a lot of weight, things taste differently, you bloat, you cry, you throw things. I’m actually pretty glad I don’t have to do it again.”
“Thanks…”
“No. I mean, pregnancy is so rewarding. You go through these months of feeling fat and unattractive and then all of a sudden it doesn’t matter anymore because you hold this little baby in your arms and it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. Everything is worth it because you’re completely overcome with love.”
Andy smiled, “it’s really lovely to hear you talk like this. It… I don’t know, it warms my heart.”
Miranda blushed a little under her Sephora mineral foundation. “Well, I don’t know about all that but it’s my turn to ask a question. Tell me about your lady friend.”
“Huh?”
“The one with whom you had sexual relations last month.”
“Oh.” Andy blushed, “well, her name is Natalia, I don’t know her very well. Well, you know, not like I sleep around or anything. My friend Doug fixed me up with her.”
“And your friends routinely set you up?”
“Doug just wanted me to go out on a date because he thinks I’m completely hung up on- well, you know. She was nice enough but she was more Doug’s sort of person than mine.”
“But you slept with her anyway?” Miranda was amused.
“I think technically you’ve asked three questions and its my turn now.” Andy was desperate to change the subject, “who was your greatest love?”
“My greatest love…” Miranda had to think. She had loved a lot of people in 139 years. “I think my greatest love was London Theatre, I know you said who but I ran a theatre and my heart belonged to it fully. I was married at the time to William Wright and he had inherited the theatre and he let me run it however I wanted. He died very young, though, he had tuberculosis.”
“I’m sorry.”
Miranda shrugged, “he was a very good man, he treated me like his equal and never once talked down to me. Men like that were hard to find in those days. I wasn’t with another man for many years after that. I did open a brothel though.”
“You don’t say. I can’t imagine Miranda Priestly running a brothel.” Andy giggled.
“You can’t?” Miranda raised an eyebrow. “You have a hard time imagining me exploiting skinny pretty women to turn a profit?”
Andy laughed, “alright, alright. Fair enough.”
“And that didn’t count as my question, by the way.” Miranda said, “my question is who are you hung up on and why?”
“That’s two questions.”
“It’s a two part question it’s not actually two questions.” Miranda smiled.
“I’m hung up on her because she’s beautiful and amazing and she’s completely unattainable which always makes someone that much more attractive. I can’t tell you who it is.”
“I’ll tell you how old I am if you tell me who you’re hung up on.”
Andy thought about it. “I think I could probably figure your age out myself.”
“In all honestly, I’m just being nice. I could get you to tell me her name and I wouldn’t even have to bribe you for it.”
Andy grinned playfully, “what’s it to you?”
Miranda looked to the window, she didn’t have a very good answer to that. Perhaps she was a little jealous. She wanted her employees completely focused on her, of course, but it was different. It wasn’t the same.
She looked back at Andy. “Maybe I care because I want to know what the competition is. Hypothetically.”
Andy stared at Miranda with her mouth open for a few minutes. She couldn’t believe her own ears, she felt that she must have misheard. Perhaps her hormones were screwing with her neurological functions.
“Could you repeat that?”
Miranda bit the inside of her lip and questioned whether repeating it was a good idea or not. If it blew up in her face she imagined it would be easy enough to play it off as a work thing, that she didn’t want her to be too distracted at work. It sounded pathetic to even think. She decided to just repeat it since she’s already said it once. “Maybe I’m a little jealous.”
Andy felt like she’d just been hit with a ton of bricks. It was simply unbelievable. Miranda fucking Priestly just basically told her she wanted to get down and dirty with her. She wanted to hit the sheets, she wanted to do the horizontal tango, the beast with two backs… with her!
Alright Sachs, get a hold of yourself, reel it in a little bit. Play it cool. “Well, I don’t really know her name because she told me the other day that she’s not Miranda Priestly.”
Miranda smiled shyly. “Well, a rose by any other name would smell as sweet. I don’t think it really matters what you call me.”
“Oh, you say that, but I could come up with a lot of things that I’m sure you wouldn’t like to be called.”
“Aye, but let’s not test that theory, hm?” Miranda took Andy’s hand in her own.
“Miranda, one more question?”
“Yes?”
“Will you still tell me how old you are?” Andy squeezed her hand.
Part Ten
Ah the topic of age. Something no woman wants to talk about. Be they 30 or 130, they’d really rather forget. It had been one thing in London when she was sharing her bed and her life with Betty Townsend, the lead actress in most of her plays. At the time she was approximately the same age. It was even another thing with all of her husbands and Pierrette Ardant because, even if she was much older at the time, Pierrette thought she was the same age.
Andy and Miranda came from wildly different backgrounds. The age difference had seemed moot in the past because she shared other things with her suitors. Like life situation, she and Betty were both widows, she shared cultural roots, she shared a language, she shared a time period. The biggest technological advancements since Miranda was born was the car and the airplane. Andy’s were iPods and camera phones.
When their plane landed Miranda brought them to a small hotel in London. “We can go out and get you new clothes in a bit. I’m going to shower.”
“Okay.” Andy sat down on the bed. Priestly jumped up onto the bed and settled onto her lap. “Shall we watch TV?”
She heard the shower turn on and she sighed. Miranda had been categorically ignoring her, save for a few instructions. It was a lot like working for her actually. Andy imagined that Miranda took very long showers.
Andy and Priestly had watched three britcoms before the water turned off. Andy smiled affectionately.
“We shouldn’t use our names.” Miranda said from the bathroom, “and we can’t stay too long in any one place since Christian knows basically everything. He’s probably on his way here already.”
“I’m sorry about that.”
“I don’t blame you,” much “evil is very persuasive and I’m just choosing to believe you were powerless against him.”
“So do we have a cover story?” She didn’t want to talk about Christian or almost getting herself killed.
“I was thinking sisters perhaps.”
Andy couldn’t help but laugh a little. “I’m sorry Miranda, but I don’t think we could pass for sisters.”
Miranda stepped out of the bathroom, “you don’t think so, do you?”
Andy was stunned. She looked so different. Her hair was dark and wavy and down to her shoulders, she looked 40 years younger. “Wow, Miranda… how did you do that? That’s amazing.”
“I can manipulate my appearance.” She shrugged, “I have to get new contact lenses. I was thinking brown.”
“Miranda, I think you’re beautiful. Not just like this, I mean, you are beautiful like this, but I think I prefer the other Miranda.”
“It’s a moot point.” Miranda shrugged. “Though I think I agree with you. I’ve always had a thing for older women.”
“Me too.” Andy smiled. “Is it cool if I shower now?”
“Be my guest.” Miranda waved noncommittally toward the bathroom. She sat down on the other bed and looked distracted. She pulled her blackberry out of her pocket and turned it over in her hand a couple of times. “I need new contacts.”
Andy hovered in the doorway of the bathroom, unsure if Miranda was talking to herself or to Andy.
She started to browse the internet looking for a local dealer. “I’m thinking green this time. Maybe a honey brown.”
“I think they both sound beautiful.” Andy said softly.
Miranda sighed and turned around and looked at her. Andy offered her a small smile before she disappeared into the bathroom. As she stepped into the shower and let the water slide over her body she thought about Miranda, how she’d been standing here only minutes before.
This was disruptive to her life, of course, but she was traipsing around London with her boss, so her job wasn’t in danger and she wasn’t seeing anyone and her friends didn’t like hanging out with Runway!Andy as they had taken to calling her. To top it all off, her apartment was a shithole. She hadn’t really left much behind.
Miranda had to leave an empire. She had to leave her girls. She felt an irrational guilt at being the reason Miranda had to leave.
When Andy finished her shower she found Miranda laying on the bed looking through the pictures of the twins in her Blackberry. Andy sat down next to her and rested her chin on her shoulder. “I shouldn’t actually keep the phone on in case Christian can triangulate it. I’ll obtain another one so the girls can still contact me.”
Christian had found the Mercedes in the parking lot of the airport. That had been the easy part but he stood looking at the departures and arrivals board and couldn’t even fathom where they went.
He was about to throw his phone in anger when it rang. The number was restricted, he accepted the call anyway. “What?” He snapped into it.
“This is Emily Charlton.”
“What do you want?” He snarled.
“You want to know where Miranda is.” Emily said and cut off any questions from Christian by continuing. “And I can find her for you if you take me with you.”
“You can find her?” His skepticism was obvious in his tone.
“Yes, I can. First of all, she’d have gone to Europe. No more hints until you agree to take me with you.” She insisted.
He sighed heavily, considering his options. “And how is it exactly you have this information?”
“Miranda’s business is my business.”
♥
author Coco // i_heart_cuddy
rating R
disclaimer I don't own The Devil Wears Prada or the characters herein. I make no profit off of this and there is no infringement intended.
pairing Miranda/Andy (eventually)
summary Fantasy. Miranda Priestly, the Ice Queen, the Dragon Lady, is a force to be reckoned with, an indelible force of nature, a mythical halfbreed.
author's note I'm pretending Nate doesn't exist, as most femmeslashers do, I suppose.
Miranda put the headphones into her ears and slept for a few hours. Andy had asked the stewardess for a pack of crayons and was coloring the rainbow pony.
Miranda stretched as best she could and Priestly, who was sitting in her lap looked up from a pup nap, only to conclude that nothing was happening that required his attention. She looked over at Andy’s drawing. “You’re a better colorer than the girls.”
“I’ve had more years of practice,” Andy smiled a little, “I only have four colors, it’s a pretty poor excuse for a rainbow.”
Andy looked over at Miranda’s long slender fingers and she reached out and gingerly touched them. Miranda turned her hand over and Andy slid her palm over Miranda’s and threaded her fingers through hers. “Will you tell me a little about you?”
Miranda looked over at her.
“Since you’re not really Miranda.” Andy smiled.
Miranda nodded a little, “I was raised in Cornwall. I’ve lived there, London, Bordeaux, Cannes, Paris, Summit, New Jersey- don’t ask- and New York. I liked Cannes the best but I haven’t been there in a long time.”
“What year were you born?”
“That’s not polite, Andrea.” Miranda smirked.
Andy laughed, “I’m sure you look really great for your age.”
“Regardless.” Miranda pursed her lips.
“Did you meet any cool people?”
“Miranda Priestly has met a lot of cool people. You should read her biography sometime.” Miranda hid a playfully coy smile.
“You put me on a 6 hour plane ride without letting me get my laptop, a book, an iPod, Sudoku, nothing and you’re not at least going to entertain me?” Miranda looked up at Andy who batted her eyelashes.
Miranda couldn’t help but smile a little.
“You mean to tell me that I’m not the only one who can manipulate people?” Miranda let herself smile.
“Damn straight.” Andy grinned. Her heart did flips when she saw Miranda smile. “We can do question for question and I promise I won’t ask how old you are.”
“Alright. You ask first since it’s your game.”
Andy thought for a moment and touched her stomach, “what’s it like to be pregnant?”
“Well,” Miranda paused in thought, “it’s kind of the best and worst thing in the world because you know you have this little thing inside you that you’re going to love unconditionally for the rest of your life. But you can’t have coffee, you have to be hyper conscious of everything you put in your body, you have to make sure you get enough vitamins every day. You have violent mood swings, you gain a lot of weight, things taste differently, you bloat, you cry, you throw things. I’m actually pretty glad I don’t have to do it again.”
“Thanks…”
“No. I mean, pregnancy is so rewarding. You go through these months of feeling fat and unattractive and then all of a sudden it doesn’t matter anymore because you hold this little baby in your arms and it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. Everything is worth it because you’re completely overcome with love.”
Andy smiled, “it’s really lovely to hear you talk like this. It… I don’t know, it warms my heart.”
Miranda blushed a little under her Sephora mineral foundation. “Well, I don’t know about all that but it’s my turn to ask a question. Tell me about your lady friend.”
“Huh?”
“The one with whom you had sexual relations last month.”
“Oh.” Andy blushed, “well, her name is Natalia, I don’t know her very well. Well, you know, not like I sleep around or anything. My friend Doug fixed me up with her.”
“And your friends routinely set you up?”
“Doug just wanted me to go out on a date because he thinks I’m completely hung up on- well, you know. She was nice enough but she was more Doug’s sort of person than mine.”
“But you slept with her anyway?” Miranda was amused.
“I think technically you’ve asked three questions and its my turn now.” Andy was desperate to change the subject, “who was your greatest love?”
“My greatest love…” Miranda had to think. She had loved a lot of people in 139 years. “I think my greatest love was London Theatre, I know you said who but I ran a theatre and my heart belonged to it fully. I was married at the time to William Wright and he had inherited the theatre and he let me run it however I wanted. He died very young, though, he had tuberculosis.”
“I’m sorry.”
Miranda shrugged, “he was a very good man, he treated me like his equal and never once talked down to me. Men like that were hard to find in those days. I wasn’t with another man for many years after that. I did open a brothel though.”
“You don’t say. I can’t imagine Miranda Priestly running a brothel.” Andy giggled.
“You can’t?” Miranda raised an eyebrow. “You have a hard time imagining me exploiting skinny pretty women to turn a profit?”
Andy laughed, “alright, alright. Fair enough.”
“And that didn’t count as my question, by the way.” Miranda said, “my question is who are you hung up on and why?”
“That’s two questions.”
“It’s a two part question it’s not actually two questions.” Miranda smiled.
“I’m hung up on her because she’s beautiful and amazing and she’s completely unattainable which always makes someone that much more attractive. I can’t tell you who it is.”
“I’ll tell you how old I am if you tell me who you’re hung up on.”
Andy thought about it. “I think I could probably figure your age out myself.”
“In all honestly, I’m just being nice. I could get you to tell me her name and I wouldn’t even have to bribe you for it.”
Andy grinned playfully, “what’s it to you?”
Miranda looked to the window, she didn’t have a very good answer to that. Perhaps she was a little jealous. She wanted her employees completely focused on her, of course, but it was different. It wasn’t the same.
She looked back at Andy. “Maybe I care because I want to know what the competition is. Hypothetically.”
Andy stared at Miranda with her mouth open for a few minutes. She couldn’t believe her own ears, she felt that she must have misheard. Perhaps her hormones were screwing with her neurological functions.
“Could you repeat that?”
Miranda bit the inside of her lip and questioned whether repeating it was a good idea or not. If it blew up in her face she imagined it would be easy enough to play it off as a work thing, that she didn’t want her to be too distracted at work. It sounded pathetic to even think. She decided to just repeat it since she’s already said it once. “Maybe I’m a little jealous.”
Andy felt like she’d just been hit with a ton of bricks. It was simply unbelievable. Miranda fucking Priestly just basically told her she wanted to get down and dirty with her. She wanted to hit the sheets, she wanted to do the horizontal tango, the beast with two backs… with her!
Alright Sachs, get a hold of yourself, reel it in a little bit. Play it cool. “Well, I don’t really know her name because she told me the other day that she’s not Miranda Priestly.”
Miranda smiled shyly. “Well, a rose by any other name would smell as sweet. I don’t think it really matters what you call me.”
“Oh, you say that, but I could come up with a lot of things that I’m sure you wouldn’t like to be called.”
“Aye, but let’s not test that theory, hm?” Miranda took Andy’s hand in her own.
“Miranda, one more question?”
“Yes?”
“Will you still tell me how old you are?” Andy squeezed her hand.
Part Ten
Ah the topic of age. Something no woman wants to talk about. Be they 30 or 130, they’d really rather forget. It had been one thing in London when she was sharing her bed and her life with Betty Townsend, the lead actress in most of her plays. At the time she was approximately the same age. It was even another thing with all of her husbands and Pierrette Ardant because, even if she was much older at the time, Pierrette thought she was the same age.
Andy and Miranda came from wildly different backgrounds. The age difference had seemed moot in the past because she shared other things with her suitors. Like life situation, she and Betty were both widows, she shared cultural roots, she shared a language, she shared a time period. The biggest technological advancements since Miranda was born was the car and the airplane. Andy’s were iPods and camera phones.
When their plane landed Miranda brought them to a small hotel in London. “We can go out and get you new clothes in a bit. I’m going to shower.”
“Okay.” Andy sat down on the bed. Priestly jumped up onto the bed and settled onto her lap. “Shall we watch TV?”
She heard the shower turn on and she sighed. Miranda had been categorically ignoring her, save for a few instructions. It was a lot like working for her actually. Andy imagined that Miranda took very long showers.
Andy and Priestly had watched three britcoms before the water turned off. Andy smiled affectionately.
“We shouldn’t use our names.” Miranda said from the bathroom, “and we can’t stay too long in any one place since Christian knows basically everything. He’s probably on his way here already.”
“I’m sorry about that.”
“I don’t blame you,” much “evil is very persuasive and I’m just choosing to believe you were powerless against him.”
“So do we have a cover story?” She didn’t want to talk about Christian or almost getting herself killed.
“I was thinking sisters perhaps.”
Andy couldn’t help but laugh a little. “I’m sorry Miranda, but I don’t think we could pass for sisters.”
Miranda stepped out of the bathroom, “you don’t think so, do you?”
Andy was stunned. She looked so different. Her hair was dark and wavy and down to her shoulders, she looked 40 years younger. “Wow, Miranda… how did you do that? That’s amazing.”
“I can manipulate my appearance.” She shrugged, “I have to get new contact lenses. I was thinking brown.”
“Miranda, I think you’re beautiful. Not just like this, I mean, you are beautiful like this, but I think I prefer the other Miranda.”
“It’s a moot point.” Miranda shrugged. “Though I think I agree with you. I’ve always had a thing for older women.”
“Me too.” Andy smiled. “Is it cool if I shower now?”
“Be my guest.” Miranda waved noncommittally toward the bathroom. She sat down on the other bed and looked distracted. She pulled her blackberry out of her pocket and turned it over in her hand a couple of times. “I need new contacts.”
Andy hovered in the doorway of the bathroom, unsure if Miranda was talking to herself or to Andy.
She started to browse the internet looking for a local dealer. “I’m thinking green this time. Maybe a honey brown.”
“I think they both sound beautiful.” Andy said softly.
Miranda sighed and turned around and looked at her. Andy offered her a small smile before she disappeared into the bathroom. As she stepped into the shower and let the water slide over her body she thought about Miranda, how she’d been standing here only minutes before.
This was disruptive to her life, of course, but she was traipsing around London with her boss, so her job wasn’t in danger and she wasn’t seeing anyone and her friends didn’t like hanging out with Runway!Andy as they had taken to calling her. To top it all off, her apartment was a shithole. She hadn’t really left much behind.
Miranda had to leave an empire. She had to leave her girls. She felt an irrational guilt at being the reason Miranda had to leave.
When Andy finished her shower she found Miranda laying on the bed looking through the pictures of the twins in her Blackberry. Andy sat down next to her and rested her chin on her shoulder. “I shouldn’t actually keep the phone on in case Christian can triangulate it. I’ll obtain another one so the girls can still contact me.”
Christian had found the Mercedes in the parking lot of the airport. That had been the easy part but he stood looking at the departures and arrivals board and couldn’t even fathom where they went.
He was about to throw his phone in anger when it rang. The number was restricted, he accepted the call anyway. “What?” He snapped into it.
“This is Emily Charlton.”
“What do you want?” He snarled.
“You want to know where Miranda is.” Emily said and cut off any questions from Christian by continuing. “And I can find her for you if you take me with you.”
“You can find her?” His skepticism was obvious in his tone.
“Yes, I can. First of all, she’d have gone to Europe. No more hints until you agree to take me with you.” She insisted.
He sighed heavily, considering his options. “And how is it exactly you have this information?”
“Miranda’s business is my business.”
♥