FIC: Hijink (DWP, Miranda/Andy, Get Smart 99/Max) 14/14 + Epilogue
Title: Hijink 14/14
Author: Misty Flores
Email: mistiec_flores@yahoo.com
Fandom: The Devil Wears Prada / Get Smart Movie (Cross-over)
Pairing: Miranda/Andy, 99/Max, 99/Miranda
Spoilers: Both movies
Archiving: Eventually it'll show up at my own woefully outdated archive
Rating: R for sexual situations.
Summary: Worlds collide when Agent 99 and Maxwell Smart chase Rogue Agent 23 to a charity auction, and discover the inspiration for Agent 99's new face: Andy. Now, a case of mistaken identity has Andrea kidnapped, Max befuddled, and Miranda Priestly pissed off.
Notes: We're done! I know I owe some comments, but thanks to everyone for sticking with me on this. I hope you've enjoyed the ride.
CHAPTERS
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen
--
I wonder if I've been changed in the night? Let me think. Was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is 'Who in the world am I?'
- Alice in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll
Things seldom worked out the way they were supposed to.
Had her life followed the predetermined script meant for her, she would have been finishing law school now, prepping to take the bar, and hopefully managing a flurry of offers from established firms.
Of course, that hadn't happened. Instead, Andy Sachs was a reporter eeking by on a wage that would have been decent in any city but New York. She had a frustrating boss (which was odd, because she would have thought that after Miranda Priestly, any boss would have been a breeze, and yet THIS one annoyed her in more ways than she could count), expensive taste in clothes (thanks, again, to her time with Miranda), and a life that revolved around her job and not much else.
Doing what she loved, she had thought would be satisfying - the happy ending to her soul searching adventure that had resulted in her climatic run from the Dragon Lady.
Andy had vowed to run from Miranda and never look back, and yet here they were again, by some cosmic interference, in the same plush veterinarian waiting room.
Andy stunk like wet dog.
They were alone now. Miranda's children, twin-redheaded little girls who were now two inches taller than she remembered had both fallen asleep in their chairs, slumped over their mother in such a comfortable way it was almost surreal. And it was those energetic little brats who liked to do everything they could to get Andy in trouble (until she got them the Harry Potter book at least), who had been responsible for Miranda still sitting here in the first place.
Clammy hands wringing together, Andy glanced up, too miserable and chilly to feel any sort of shame as she glanced up and regarded the observant glare of one Miranda Priestly. The woman, impeccably dressed as usual, still wore her hair in that signature coiffed. She still looked beautiful.
Andy found it hard to look away.
"Thank you," she found herself saying, an awkward attempt to fill the silence. "I honestly don't know what I would have done-"
The perfectly lined eyebrow rose so high on Miranda's forehead it nearly disappeared into her hairline. "You would have done what you should have done," she answered sharply. "Put that dog out of its misery and saved me a few thousand."
Well, she had never accused Miranda of being sentimental.
"Probably," she acknowledged.
Miranda's lips pursed together severely. "And you can thank my children. Stepping in was their decision, not mine."
Maybe, but Miranda still handed over the card. Pushing down a sigh, Andy nodded grimly and closed her eyes, rubbing her fingers against her forehead, feeling the abused muscles on her back stiffen with complaint.
The door opened, and the veterinarian, dressed in surgical scrubs and with a tired grin on his face, emerged. "Ms. Priestly?"
"Andrea." Fingers lowering, Andrea glanced up. Miranda was nudging her children, waking them up and getting to her feet, slinging her purse back on her shoulder. "I assume you still remember my cell phone number?"
As if she could forget it. That thing had been buried so deeply into her subconscious Andy had accidentally caught herself dialing it three times in the past month.
Miranda Priestly stared at her, noted her small nod, and gave an assured one back. "Then after this visit, my association with this animal ends. You will call Beth with your updated contact information so I can alert you when to pick it up."
Not wanting to even think about what she would do with a dog when her apartment didn't allow apartments, and where on earth she could find a rescue organization that would take an ugly dog with a shattered leg and who knew what else wrong with it, she just nodded tiredly.
"Very well." Once again, Miranda stared at her, the look on her face unreadable.
Andy was too tired to play any guessing games as to what the woman was thinking. She wasn't paid to do that. Not anymore.
And Miranda had made herself quite clear. This had been an unfortunate meeting. She had been quite happy to move along and pretend Andrea didn't exist, but children weren't mind readers, and now here they were. And here they would end again.
The girls followed sleepily as their Mother approached the doctor, and it was only when they all stared at her expectantly.
"What?" she asked.
The little redhead she thought was Caroline rolled her eyes in the most obnoxious way possible, and came forward, grabbing hold of her and dragging her out of the seat.
"Come on!" she said, and moved for Miranda and the vet. "What are you waiting for?"
One glance at Miranda revealed the older woman unexpectedly surprised at the twins' assumption that she was tagging along, but she didn't argue. Instead, she flashed a resigned look of annoyance, reminiscent of a look Miranda had been fond of giving her once upon a time, and the look was so familiar Andy found herself managing a bittersweet smile.
If Miranda was affronted by Andy's amusement, she did not let on. Then again, Andy suspected that Miranda already knew that life seldom worked out the way it was supposed to.
--
Discovering what had occurred in the outside world during the period in which she had spent most of her time unconscious and kidnapped left Andy Sachs feeling a bit like Rip Van Winkle.
In a blink of an eye, her entire world had changed.
It had happened without warning, and the events, as they occurred, had been completely out of her hands.
And it wasn’t just one thing: one secret or one change. No, it was everything. It seemed like everything, anyway.
It was easier before... with Miranda. With the girls. Andy had been so caught up in her relief, in actually FEELING, that there was nothing but the pure joy at the feel of Miranda clutched against her, the texture of beautiful white hair and the feel of soft skin… it never occurred to her to think beyond that.
Until the first unexpected paparazzi flash, tipped off from a spectator neighbor, that had them pushed into a van and secreted away.
Alone for the first time since she had been brought to what she was told was the secret headquarters of an Anti-Terrorism government agency that was supposedly dismantled in the sixties, Andy Sachs discovered herself in a curious state of denial.
As long as she stayed in this chair, as long as she didn't MOVE, then perhaps she could maybe put off attempting to figure this out. At least for the moment.
It seemed unreal - only an unrealistic set of impossible hijinks could cause all this to happen, because not only was her relationship with Miranda no longer their own private secret, but it had become overnight tabloid fodder for the world, thanks to a tango with a woman who was NOT her, but wore her face.
She was tired enough to think to herself that if she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, she could fool herself for even a moment that this had all been some sort of hilarious dream, like the Alice in Wonderland book Maxwell Smart was so fond of.
But there were tells that spoke the truth: the tenderness of her foot, gashes stitched together and bandaged. The discolored blotch of blue and yellow on her jaw courtesy of a hysterical Emily. The warmth and comfort of government issue black pants and button down shirt, with the word CONTROL etched on them.
And there were the magazines that she had requested and received: with the pictures splashed over them of Miranda, looking stunning and gorgeous, ducking into her waiting car with what appeared to be Andy... but wasn't.
Every time she tried to think about the very idea that there was another woman out there... a living breathing woman with her face... that was right about where her mind short-circuited.
The door to the small office clicked open, and when Andy glanced up, she felt breathless; sucker punched.
Andy Sachs had never looked that beautiful. She was sure of that. Sure, this woman had her face... but this wasn’t her. Not the expensively tailored suit, not the glossy black hair, not the severe quirk of the eyebrow as the two doppelgangers found themselves alone together for the first time.
"Hi," Agent 99 said, and Andy didn't care about seeming rude when she just stared. The other woman clicked the door shut behind her, hesitating as she tapped at the folder she held in her hands with fingernails that were longer than Andy's, manicured and polished to perfection. "We didn't get properly introduced before. I'm Agent 99."
The woman with her face.
Too overwhelmed to say anything, Andy offered a choked nod, gnawing on her lower lip as her eyes followed the other woman to the other side of the desk, watching as this agent pulled out her chair and tossed her a hesitant, barely there smile.
"I hope you don't mind that I asked to do this alone," said the other woman, in her own voice, and was that necessary? Did they have to give her her own vocal chords too? "I know this is weird... enough...If Ms. Priestly were here... I don't know if it would be manageable."
The trace of irritation hidden in the voice was impossible to mask, and exhausted, it still brought a ghost of a smile to Andy's face.
"Miranda Priestly? Difficult?" her voice was surprisingly steady. "That's preposterous. I don't know where you're getting your information."
The other woman smiled back. "I spent some time with her. I'm going to be honest, I don't know how you managed to last as her assistant for as long as you did. She's... particular."
Andy wasn't sure if this was small talk or if Agent 99 was just venting. Either way, she was grateful for it. Gave her time to process.
"You have to know what she likes," she answered. "Once you do that, it's pretty easy to figure it out."
Agent 99 studied her, file still in her hands. "I guess you would be the expert."
Andy's fingers tangled together in her lap as they lapsed into silence, and suddenly, she found herself shaking her head, laughing softly.
"What is it?"
Reaching up to wipe at her eyes gently, Andy smoothed her hair back and regarded the other woman. "Just something Caroline once told me," she admitted. "She told me I would never know what it was like to have a twin. Though to be honest, I think they're all crazy. You don't even look that much like me."
"Oh yeah?"
"Your hair is longer," she noted. "And you're... a bit more..." Andy's eyes floated to the woman's body, curvy in places Andy felt lacking.
"If you say fatter I'm going to smack you."
"I was going to say athletic..." she said quickly."And, I hope it doesn't come off as narcissist, but I don’t think I've ever looked as beautiful as you do."
Agent 99's resulting smile was almost painful, and it caused Andy's own to falter. The agent hesitated, before she dropped the folder onto the desk with a dull clap, and with it, all professional pretense.
"Look, Andy..." Agent 99 sucked in her breath, battling with her words. "I understand that this is a shock to you. I can assure you, no one intended to... steal your face... no one except for a mad scientist who is now under arrest for unethical practice... but what's done is done and..."
"And that's that?" she asked, hard lump making it painful to swallow the emotion down. "We're sorry we stole your face; enjoy this lovely parting gift of a CONTROL sweatshirt?"
"That's not what I meant," Agent 99 said quickly, and then screwed her eyes shut, looking so visibly upset Andy's brow furrowed, before the other woman hid the expression with palms pressed against her face, allowing herself time to recover. "This wasn't what I wanted. It was my choice to change my face, but not at the expense of the identity of someone else. You can imagine the wrinkle it causes in the world of espionage to share the features of Miranda Priestly's lover."
Oh, right ... that. "The way Miranda tells it, it was your choice to out her." A ridiculous surge of jealousy welled up inside of her, making her cheeks flush with color. "So... publicly."
Agent 99 tapped her fingers against the desk. "It was a necessity. I was trying to save her life. I was trying to save yours."
Slumping forward, Andy leaned forward, shoulders slumping and head shaking in contemplation. "So what now?"
An audible sigh was her answer. "The Chief has told me that Miranda Priestly has made certain... demands. She's afraid for you, naturally, and has dictated that the first thing that should happen is that I undergo another intensive operation, emerge with a new identity... and if we don't comply, she will do everything within her power to destroy the organization or go public with, as she terms it, 'our immeasurable incompetence'." 99 offered a grim smile.
It wasn't surprising. At her best, Miranda was a leader; at her worst, a dictator who did not see reason. Now that Andy had been brought into her inner circle - her public lover, she would be protected with the same fierceness and loyalty as Miranda did her own children.
Even though she had been sleeping with Miranda for months, the idea that Miranda loved her like that?
Like everything else… it still hit her as surreal. Not tangible. Not yet.
"Could she actually do that?" she asked, curious to know. "She's an editor-in-chief... and you're the government."
"We're a covert agency... no one is supposed to know we exist. Thanks to your unique situation, we've accommodated her, but should Miranda choose to go public..."
"Are you threatening her?"
Agent 99's identical eyes bore into hers. "No," she said, voice gruff. "I'm not. But this isn't up to Miranda. This is up to you."
"What do you mean?"
In a move that Andy found almost creepy, 99 proceeded to gnaw on her lower lip, looking uncertain and so much like her it was almost nauseating. "Andy... I'm going to be honest. The first time I changed my face... I thought it would be easy. It wasn't. The first time I looked at myself in a mirror and didn't see myself... Well..." 99's smile curled crookedly. "I guess you know what that feels like."
Unsteadily, Andy inhaled.
"But... after all that... and it was painful... it was more painful than I ever thought it would be... I started to get past it. These last few months... back in the job and with Max... I felt like myself again. I felt like I could look in the mirror... and see myself." Tears began to glisten beautiful in Agent 99's eyes, and the cynical, detached part of Andy that wasn't tearing up right along with her noted that it didn’t seem fair that this woman got the best parts of her and managed to come out more gorgeous for it. "I don't know if I have it in me to do that again, Andy. I don't. I don't care what the Chief says, if you can't handle it, then I will do it, but ... Andy..." The slender fingers of Agent 99 actually trembled right along with the plump lower lip that had been surgically sculpted to be an exact mimic of hers, and Andy felt herself shiver, unnerved and STILL wanting to detach.
And yet...
"Did you seriously make Miranda tango and then make out with her in the middle of a charity auction?"
The other woman didn't know what to make of that at first, not until the way that Andy's lips pulled into a reluctant smile finally processed, and the trembling lip stalled for a disbelieving smile of her own.
"Did you seriously break a champagne glass over Max's head and tell him that Lewis Carroll was probably a drug addict?"
They regarded each other.
"You're damned right I did," Andy said, and suddenly they were chortling- twin peals of hysterical laughter that filled the room.
In that action, the world that now existed became a little more manageable.
--
Earlier this afternoon, in a CONTROL bathroom, Agent 99 leaned on a sink, looked into a borrowed face blinking back at her from the mirror and wondered how long it would be before she would once again be wearing the face of a stranger.
The resulting devastation had been so intense that for a full minute, she had struggled to breathe.
It had been the closest 99 had come to breaking down since this whole thing had begun, and she supposed it was only thanks to her training that it had come after the real danger had passed.
Agent 99 had never relied on anything from anyone. Agent 23, who had been a better agent than she had been, had told her on her very first mission that in this business, the people she could trust she could count with one finger: herself.
She had believed him, and did learn the lesson the hard way: with a new face, a new identity, and a surly personality.
Through the monitor on the Chief's desk, she observed the man 23 had become: clad in an orange jumpsuit and curled on the mattress in a holding cell.
Different faces. Different people.
"99."
Glancing up, she straightened her posture and offered the Chief a welcoming nod, moving out of the way and crossing glances with Max.
Her lover's smile was always sweet, and it always made her feel warm.
"So what's the status, 99?" The Chief asked, all business as he settled down at his desk and looked at her expectantly. "Max told me you have good news."
She hesitated, crossing her arms and keeping her voice even. "More or less. I did talk to Andy Sachs and we were able to negotiate a deal." She handed over the folder she had been carrying. "These are the details."
After a grimace, the Chief took the file and began to glimpse through it. "What's this? This is ridiculous. I didn't give you any authorization to offer her a job."
She smiled grimly. "I took a chance. We need a good analyst, and she's sharp. The background came through clear, and let's be honest, Chief. Since we outted her relationship to Miranda Priestly, she's not exactly employable at her current department. Not to mention the whole 'we stole her face' thing."
"There's no laws about stealing a face. And we're not in this business for the ethics."
"We should be thankful that some of us have them." 99 gently reached out and tugged at Max's sleeve. "She says the major reason she's allowing us to go forward is because Max promised to bring her alive and intact to Ms. Priestly and her children. In return, she felt she owed him a similar courtesy."
Max blushed adorably, and 99 felt the unnatural choke of emotion lodge in her throat. Carefully, she pushed it down.
"I can vouch for her, Chief," Max interrupted, coming forward with a nod. "I've spent considerable time with her, and although we were both unconscious for the majority of the time, I found her extraordinarily quick witted, and despite some questionable literary beliefs, quite stable. With some training she could even make a good agent."
99 blinked, jerking her head to Max's. "I wouldn't go that far."
"I might." The Chief snapped his fingers, already thinking. "Twin agents. The idea has merit."
"She can't be an agent," 99 snapped, "She's famous now. Her face is on every tabloid cover in the country."
"And so is yours, 99," the Chief pointed out helpfully. "If you're going to keep that face we need to figure out how to work around it or you're going to join your new friend as an analyst."
The very idea caused a sour turn in her stomach. "Andy and I came up with an idea."
Max arched a brow. "Oh? What is it?"
"How do you feel about being called Uncle Max?"
The Chief, noting the glance of affection, rolled his eyes. "So you're taking the twin thing to heart. That's fine. And how does the great Ms. Priestly feel about all this?"
"I've decided to let Andy break it to her," she said, lips quirking in a grimace. "It seems safest for everyone that way."
--
Miranda had never been the needy, clingy type, and it was an annoyance that Andy brought that out in her.
Miranda understood very well that she required a measure of control in her life, and it was absolutely maddening that complete ownership of Andy was just not possible.
Had Miranda had any say in the matter whatsoever, Andy would have been taken to her townhouse, branded on her ass with Miranda's initials, and never been allowed to leave the room.
As it were, she did not have a say in the matter, and the result was a highly frustrating wait with her children, until Andrea returned to her with an expression that was both disconcerting and uncertain.
Miranda, warring between relief and indignation at being left waiting in an interrogation room of all things, found no room for any emotional shenanigans. "Well?"
The children scampered to their feet, less in control of their impatience than she. "Wha'd happened?!" asked Caroline, and Cassidy, of a one-track mind, blurted, "What about Heather?"
Andy's hesitant smile faltered and her kind, beautiful eyes drifted once to Miranda before descending to Miranda's children. To Caroline, she said, "99 and I worked out a deal. She'll be keeping her face, and I'll be taking a job here."
Miranda's brows jolted up immediately, but Andrea had already moved on to her youngest. "I'm sorry, honey. I wish I knew. 99 did tell me that Heather was being considered for foster care, considering they can't locate her mother. Emily has apparently expressed interest in taking her on as a charge, but considering she has … special skills and Emily's … situation is what it is, it's pretty obvious that's not going to happen."
"Foster care?"
That her daughter looked so devastated caused an ache inside of Miranda, who knew all too well the appeal of a forbidden romance, but at the moment, she would not indulge it.
It was better to force the child to move on. At twelve, they were able to do so quickly.
"They've offered you employment."
Andrea's eyes floated to hers, met hers without fear or hesitation. "I demanded it. Miranda, my career is trashed. And let's face it, I've always wanted to save the world. This is just a different way of doing it."
"By locking yourself away," she said, more disturbed than she cared to admit. "By working for a spy organization. The very organization that nearly got you killed."
"No, Miranda," Andrea said firmly. "They're the ones that saved my life. And you know it."
"Had it not been for their incompetence-"
"Miranda."
"Andy, you will not-"
"No, Miranda." Andrea's voice cut into her like a hard knife, making her falter. "I'm not asking you if this is okay. This is what is going to happen. I'm not going to let you say no to this."
Apparently, whether or not she said yes to it held no weight either.
The charged silence was only worsened by Miranda's suddenly heavy breathing, as her anger caused a heated flush of her cheeks, and the urge to lash.
Her lover once again glanced down at the suddenly quiet girls. "I've arranged for you to see Heather, Cassidy, before we go."
The joy on her daughter's face was transforming. "Really?"
"Really," Andrea said, as the child launched into her arms and squeezed her fiercely. "Just outside the door there is an agent that will take you to her. Caroline, will you go with her?"
The eyes of her daughter crossed with hers briefly, an unspoken request for permission.
Miranda nodded subtly. Clearly, she and Andrea needed to be alone. Andrea's dark orbs locked onto hers, held as she stayed three feet away, waiting until the girls had moved away from them and closed the door behind them.
Sucking in a lungful of air through her nostrils, Miranda discovered herself the owner of a fragile heart. She hid it firmly behind fury.
"It was not your right to allow her to see that little girl."
"Cassidy thinks she's in love."
"She's twelve years old," Miranda spat. "She has yet to discover what love is."
"That's unfair. You told me yourself what Heather was willing to do for her."
"And that child's good intentions do not excuse her father or what he did. I indulged the friendship when I thought it was innocent. At the moment, there is no such thing. You should not have allowed her to see her."
"I did, and I would again."
"So this is how things are going to work for you," she began, voice low, as loud as she dared considering she was a hairsbreadth away an emotional tantrum. "You're going to dictate to me how things will work for us."
The statement sunk into the silence, and sudden she heard an audible sigh. Andrea took a step toward her, then another, until she was carefully sinking down beside her.
The tip of her pinkie brushed against hers.
"Miranda, exactly one day ago, I was engaged in a secret affair with one of the most powerful women in America, and I was under the belief that the only person walking around Manhattan who looked exactly like me was me." Andrea's lips curled into a bittersweet smile. "Now, not only does the entire world know that I'm your lover, but I'm being treated as your partner, and I seem to have gained a twin sister who is a licensed killer. I don't mean to seem selfish but some of this I need to process."
Rationally, Miranda understood the younger woman had every right to want this. Irrationally, the idea that Andrea would need time to consider her fate beside Miranda filled her with so much fear she nearly keeled over from the force of it.
"As long as I'm employed by CONTROL, we'll have complete protection."
The statement forced her out of her thoughts, caused a sudden blink of incomprehension.
"Pardon?"
Andrea's brown eyes shifted quickly in her direction. "You came out to save my life and to save yours, but you haven't talked to Irv or thought about what it would mean for your career-"
"Exactly how twisted do you think my priorities are?" Their eyes met, held. Feeling uncharacteristically dizzy, Miranda began carefully, "I've taken the liberty of moving your things to the house. Take all the time you wish to process, you can even stay in a spare room if you'd like, but I have absolutely no intention of letting you out of my sight for the foreseeable future." No longer trusting herself to stare into Andrea's beautiful face and second guess her intentions, her eyes moved to the floor. "In regards to the children…"
The hand brushing her pinkie drifted to completely cover her own, fingers curling around Miranda's in gentle warmth.
"Miranda, I love you." The words caused an unconscious hitch, a jerk of Miranda's head to Andrea's face. "I love your children, and my only regret in any of this is that it took both of us nearly dying to actually have the courage to say that. If I could spend the rest of your life making your life miserable by giving your kids unwelcome advice about sex and bringing home stray dogs, that would make me insanely happy."
It sounded absolutely hellish. A complete headache.
Everything Miranda dared not ever hope for.
"But right now, there's only one thing I want from you."
The grip on her hand was tight, unyielding, and overwhelmed, Miranda only arched a brow.
The beautiful face spread into a beautiful smile. "I want you to teach me how to tango." Miranda blinked, and that released the most appealing sound of laughter from her beloved.
Rising to her feet, Miranda felt her bearings return to her, and her heart settle in a firm, secure place that had not been touched since the moment Andrea had walked away from her, years before.
With an indulgent, loving smile, she opened her palm and held it out to her Andrea. When Andrea tangled their fingers together, Miranda pulled, reeling the younger woman in until they were flush against each other, intimately entwined.
"My darling," she whispered, husky and gentle. "What on earth do you think we've been doing all these months?"
Her head lowered, and with a sigh, she kissed Andrea's smile; breathed it in like air.
--
Cassidy had always thought of Heather as strong. Heather had always been tough. She had never cared what anyone thought about it, and Cassidy loved that more than fashion or popularity or anything that Caroline thought was important.
But Heather didn't look strong or tough. She just looked small. She looked shorter than Cassidy remembered and Cassidy knew it was silly, because it had only been a day since they had seen each other, and still… Heather was so small.
When she saw her, pushed into the room by stupid Agent Larabee who was an ABSOLUTE IDIOT, she launched to her feet, and Cassidy felt something jerk inside of her that sprang tears to her eyes.
Ignoring Caroline and her stare, she moved fast, and then she had her arms around her. Eyes closed, chest heaving, Cassidy found herself suddenly battling the urge to sob like a child, because Heather was alive and warm and in a terrible, terrible situation, and Cassidy loved her as much as she had ever loved anything.
"Cass," Heather whispered. Cassidy felt fingers smoothing through her hair, and she shut her eyes tighter, screwed them shut and tried to make herself believe that this was going to be okay. Because it was. Her mother said anything was possible; Cassidy just had to want it enough.
"It's going to be okay," she whispered, nose burying into Heather's hoodie, gripping Heather even tighter when she felt and heard a ragged sigh. "No, listen!" Her vision had gone blurry, and she pulled back just enough to press her palms against Heather's smooth cheeks. "Listen, Andy's going to work for these guys. And maybe she can pull some strings and get you to stay with us."
Heather's dark eyes were luminous, and for a second, Cassidy thought maybe there was some hope there, but it was gone, buried into that part of Heather that Cassidy had always wanted to touch and never knew how.
"Cass, get real," Heather answered gruffly, bitterly. Her hands moved from her back and to her arms, and she rubbed at them up and down, over and over, like she was trying to keep Cassidy warm. "Your mom won't let you be with me. Not after all this."
"You don't know that."
"Yes, I do!" Heather snapped, and the answer was loud and firm and almost angry. "And so do you. Don't be naïve about this."
She was talking to her like she was talking to a child, and Cassidy felt her temper flare in response. "Don't tell me what to think."
Heather stared at her, glanced behind her, and at the sudden guarded look, Cassidy turned and remembered her sister, who stared at them, huddled together so intimately, like Cassidy had grown horns.
She remembered being so close to her sister she could finish sentences with just a glance.
Caroline's jaw was visibly stiff, but she sucked in her breath and shook her head, met her glance intensely. "I'm not leaving you alone with her."
"Caroline!"
"Cass, wait… it doesn't matter." Fingers tightened around her biceps, and Cassidy's attention refocused, lost it's furious anger at her sister and instead focused on the body pressed against hers. Heather's breathing was hard, like she had been running forever, and was trying to catch her breath. "Listen to me, okay? I love you."
It didn't sound like 'I love you'. It sounded like goodbye. Unable to help herself, she began to shake her heard uncontrollably. "You can't give up, Heather-"
"I'm not giving up." Dark bangs teased against her nose as Heather's forehead tilted against hers, her words careful and quiet. "But you had to save Andy… I've got to save my Dad."
It didn't process first. What it meant. Heather was being ridiculous, and then Cassidy jolted back to stare at her, and she realized that Heather wasn't kidding.
"He tried to kill Andy," she whispered, disbelief barely giving breath to her words. "He tried to kill everyone."
"He's still my Dad," Heather answered back, eyes big and brown and pleading with her to understand. "Cass, he's the only family I've got."
"You said you hated him! You wanted us to get you away from him!"
Heather just stared at her, looking at her like she was hoping that Cassidy would suddenly be okay with this. "What's the alternative? Foster homes? Locked up in CONTROL? He loves me, Cass. He loves me, and if I can save him-"
"You can't save him."
"I can. And you can come with me."
Oh, God. Cassidy suddenly hated her. She hated her so much. Because she couldn't do this. Not this…
"He tried to kill Andy…" she managed, barely above an ache.
"He's my DAD," Heather rasped. "And he's all I've got."
Nothing had hurt like this. Nothing had ever hurt like this. Because it was Heather saying this, and Heather had always … Heather had always…
"I can't," she breathed, unable to stop the tears as they slid down her cheeks. She felt like such a baby, but she couldn't stop them. "I can't. I'm twelve!"
But she couldn't let go of Heather. She wouldn't. She held onto those shoulders and drowned into the wet brown eyes that were staring at her so beseechingly, and dammit- yesterday they had been texting about going to see Wicked again…
Her chest ached. She couldn't breathe.
"Heather," she wheezed.
A body forcibly jerked between them, breaking her grip, throwing her nearly off balance.
Caroline, suddenly between them, and holding her arm, thrust something hard at Heather's chest. "Here. Take it and get out of here." It was Hymie's remote.
Panting, Cassidy cast her a wild, anxious glance, but Caroline wasn't looking at her.
"What, is this is a trap?" Heather breathed.
"No. I'm serious," Caroline snapped. "I knocked out the agent outside. The robot's waiting out there. I want you go to away. So just take it and break your dad out, but you promise not to go near her again."
Heather's eyes met hers helplessly, and Cassidy, no less sure of herself, only opened her mouth and closed it again.
Carefully, deliberately, Heather stuffed the remote into her pocket, and once again looked at her. "Cass-"
"No." Caroline snapped. "You leave. That's all."
Her sister held onto her so tightly, and Heather was so far away…
It seemed like it wasn't really happening, when Heather launched forward and before Caroline could stop her, had grabbed hold of her wrist and yanked her away from her sister.
Fingers grabbed hard at her nape and suddenly Cassidy's lips were being plundered with chapped dry lips, forcing open her mouth with the tip of her tongue, and Heather was kissing her like she had never kissed her before.
"I love you," Heather whispered against her mouth. "I love you."
And then she let her go, leaving her swaying as she headed for the door.
Caroline caught her, held her close. Dizzily, Cassidy whispered, "Why did you help her?"
"Because you love her. And you would have regretted not helping her for the rest of your life."
The tears slipped silently down her cheeks, and her fingers flailed blindly for her sister's, clutching them tight. "We don't tell Mom about it."
"Never," Caroline answered gruffly, then… "Cassidy."
"What?"
"I'm sorry."
She couldn't help it. She turned into her sister's arms and cried her heart out, because that was all she could do.
--
The burning from the bandaged wound on his side was a welcome distraction to the mind numbing boredom that he knew was coming from years in high security prison.
If he didn't get the death penalty first.
As it was, the only things he had to look forward to in here were verbally berating the agents too stupid to be trusted with anything else but security guard duty, and devising in his head a new plan to get back at Max and 99 once he figured out a way to get out of here.
The clank of the locks alerted him to the entrance of another guard, and though Dwayne, who had come to memorize the layout of the CONTROL network the first time he had broken into it, noted it for the oddness of it, he welcomed the respite from his annoying inability to stop worrying about his kid.
Closing his eyes, he shifted uncomfortably on the cot he was strapped to, and commented idly, "Bad timing, asshole. I just let a fart rip that could decimate a city block."
"Lovely," drawled a dry British voice. "Sexiest thing you've done all year."
He jerked forward so fast he nearly tore his stitches. Nearly blinded from the pain, he sank back onto the cot, tugging at his restraints as he sucked in a large breath and stared at Emily.
The red haired woman had her shoulder pressed against the open security door. From her fingers dangled keys. She shook them merrily.
"What are you doing here?!" he asked gruffly.
Emily arched a lazy brow, studying him. "I think I like you this way," she commented, and stepped into the cell, eyes roving from head to foot. "The only way it could really be improved would be to gag you."
"Fuck you," he growled, and began to shimmy, heart beating so fast now that she was here. "Get me out of these. Where's Heather?"
Dark eyes met hers, and Emily's eyes danced with mirth. "You forgot the magic word."
Only a fucking lunatic would think this was amusing. "Are you kidding me?"
Emily's smirk only deepened, and fuck, why on earth did Dwayne find this in anyway attractive?
"Heather is fine. She's the one that got me these," she said, jingling the keys to his freedom yet again.
"You two were pretty cozy last time I saw you," he admitted, and it was with grudging admiration. There were very few people who surprised him anymore. Emily's willingness to protect his daughter, even from himself…
He wouldn't look at her the same way again.
"You and I need to come to an understanding," the woman explained, settling into cot beside him, and spreading a warm open palm against his thigh. The muscles in his groin jumped in reaction. When Emily chuckled, he grit his teeth, ignoring it. She squeezed his thigh, smoothed her fingers up closer, until she had just brushed his dick. He hissed. "Clearly you're in no position to argue."
"Clearly," he managed, glaring hard. Emily's smile was damned evil. "Wha'd you have in mind?"
"Let's start with you desisting with your pathetic and baseless attempts to kill me," Emily began firmly. "And a promotion for me."
"A promotion?" He blinked, gulped when Emily's hand smoothed over his dick and began to massage it through the pants. "Emily, for fuck's sake-"
"I took a lot at your books, remember?" she said, sounding cloudy over the blood rushing in his ears. His dick was growing painfully hard, and still Emily wouldn't stop. "You need a lot of help. And I need a job. Thanks to you and your daughter, I'm unemployed."
His eyes squinted open. "So what? Now you want to help run a terrorist organization?"
"Is that so different from fashion?"
Her fingers smoothed against the strained tent in his pants, pressing down. He jerked his hips, and her smile widened.
He stared at her, lost in crystal green eyes and a beautiful, brilliant face.
"You're a manipulative bitch, you know that?" The wonder in his voice was impossible to disguise, and Dwayne felt like a horny thirteen year old with a crush.
In answer, Emily leaned forward and suddenly they were kissing; wet, hot, open kisses that did nothing to alleviate his erection and had him instead groaning for release.
She stopped; smiled against his mouth. "No," she said softly. "Not yet."
One jerk against his wrists, then another, and suddenly he was free, being helped up by the most insane and intoxicating woman alive.
"How'd you get in here?"
"I told you," Emily whispered, and pressed against her ear. "Heather? I've got him. Lead us out."
Into the cell came Hymie, wearing his happy smile and carrying a semi automatic rifle.
"Good afternoon, Agent 23," he said pleasantly. "Are you ready for your escape?"
"She stole Hymie?" he whispered, overcome.
"Borrowed," Emily informed him. "Heather's one rule in this, we put him back. Apparently the girl's in love."
Clutching onto an insane neurotic piece of hot ass for support, Dwayne decided that he knew something about that. With a wide grin, he bent down and pressed his lips hard against Emily's. "Let's get out of here," he breathed. "Have a ton of sex, flee the country with my kid, and take over the world."
"What? In that order?" Emily asked.
"Sounds like a plan to me."
"I'd probably flee the country first."
-END CHAPTER
EPILOGUE - 15 YEARS LATER
Begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end: then stop.
- Alice in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll
Cassidy Priestly supposed that going into the family business was a little antiquated, but she had never thought about doing anything else. Her mother, upon discovering her decision to follow in her step-mother's footsteps, ranted and raved and wouldn't speak to her for a full week.
No one did a temper tantrum better than her mother, even at sixty-five.
Thankfully, after fifteen years, her mother's wife (and Cassidy's step-mother) had gotten quite good at weathering the storms, and all it had taken was a sincere conversation with her spy-mom and another with Uncle Max and Aunt Anne (because her mother insisted they couldn't call 99 a number in real life), to allow them all to convince her mother that Cassidy's interests were pure.
Besides, her mom had Caroline, who had always been nice and normal anyway, working her way up at Runway and already the head of her own department.
At least as far as her mother knew, anyway.
"You're going to kill Mom, when you tell her," Cassidy said, whisper quiet as she squeezed carefully through the opening she had created for herself. The room was quiet, save for the electric buzzing of the mainframe that stood glaring in the middle of the room.
She was in the heart of KAOS headquarters, and that she had managed to get in here at all and not be killed trying was thanks to her sister Caroline, who, as Secret Agent 2.5, had become a wiz of robotics and hacking.
A hobby Caroline had kept up in between fashion shows and layouts.
Someone had to be an overachiever, at any rate. Cassidy was better at the physical stuff, anyhow.
"No one's going to tell her," Caroline said pointedly. "And I'm only doing this because I know if I leave you on your own, you'll get yourself killed."
Caroline had spent years trying to protect her. It had become a habit that Cassidy now wished she had tried to curb.
"I really wish you'd stop thinking you have to," she whispered, grunting slightly as she spread out flat against the floor, eyeing the lasers and touch sensors that dotted the room, floor to ceiling. "And get your own life. Date someone other than old vacuous brawny losers."
"Just because you're the gay one doesn't give you the right to call Casey a loser," she heard snarled into her ear.
"He works at a Buy More! And he's over forty!"
"Shut up. You know damn well that's just a cover. He's a great guy. Now hurry up, I've got a photoshoot in ten minutes."
Suppressing the urge to smile, Cassidy rolled to her feet, making sure to tread lightly. "Say when."
A moment, the sound of clicking, and then… "When."
Lights flickered, failed. Cassidy sprinted into action, sprinting across the floor and slapping the device designed to sucked out the information from the mainframe, and upload KAOS' secrets to CONTROL headquarters.
"Done!" she said, and then a siren pierced through the air that nearly burst her eardrums. "Shit."
"FUCK," she heard in her ear. "Get out of there!"
Cassidy didn't need to be told twice. Pulling out her gun, she broke into a run, ducking down and sliding fast toward the door as they opened, just like she knew they would. With two quick shots, she brought down the entering guards, and caught herself on the edge of the door, using the momentum to pull herself up.
"I thought you had made sure not to trip the safeguards!" she spat, pumping her arms as she turned a sharp corner and headed for the alternate exit.
"I did!" Caroline snarled back, and Cassidy was sure she did. Her sister usually thought of everything. "Someone must have seen it coming!"
"Somebody must have-" Cassidy turned another corner, and nearly collided with a perfect rose, tied onto the doorknob. Already breathing hard, Cassidy felt her heart tremble. Of course. "Heather," she said in resignation, in time with her sister.
"God-dammit. That means she's there. Cassidy!?" Her lips gone dry, she sucked in an unsteady breath and carefully reached for the knob. "Cassidy, for God-sakes, come on! Get out of there! Don't let her trap you!"
"I never LET her!" she snapped, and that was true. She never LET her…
"Cassidy, you're not twelve anymore, okay? Her dad and stepmother are the head of the world's biggest terrorist organization-"
"I know…" she whispered, and with her gun held up, she opened the door and stepped into the stairwell.
"She's on FBI's Top Ten Most Wanted!"
"I know that too."
The stairwell was dark. Unwavering, Cassidy moved down the stairs, one at a time, into the darkness.
"Cassidy?"
Another step, and another, and then her breath caught, as the sirens stopped and from the shadows, emerged a beautiful woman with short cropped hair, gun pointed straight at her heart.
"How the hell did I know you'd try stealing my fucking database, AGAIN?" Heather breathed, eyes glittering dangerously.
Cassidy kept her finger on the trigger, but allowed herself to look, to feel for the girl that got away.
"Cassidy!?" Caroline had taken to screeching now. "She's evil!"
"I'm gonna have to call you back, sis," Cassidy whispered, and reached up to cut off the communication. "Have fun at your photoshoot."
"I’m TELLING ANDY!!"
The phone clicked off, and there was nothing left but the fierce adrenaline, the whisper soft quiet of Heather's breathing, and the dizzying affect of being in this woman's presence.
"Cass," Heather breathed, an easy greeting.
"Heather," she returned, just as easily. "It's been a few months."
"You haven't tried to fuck me up in a while," Heather noted, smirk twitching on her features. "I was beginning to think you didn't care."
"I don't," she said carefully. "You've stolen government secrets, I’m just getting them back."
"That was Fulcrum, not KAOS."
"Which is why you're pointing a gun at me."
Heather arched a brow. "You started it."
Cassidy licked her lips, but couldn't hide the smile from her features. "It's already finished. The information is uploading to the server as we speak."
"Only half of it. I caught it using a failsafe."
"Of course you did."
"How's your step-mom?"
"Fine," she said evenly. "How's yours?"
"Fine. A total bitch," Heather said, tongue darting out to moisten her lower lip. "But my dad likes it that way."
"Great. Good for him."
Between them was more than the distance of feet. KAOS and CONTROL bled from their souls, and it was more than jobs, it was family.
And yet…
Heather pulled a button from her pocket and pressed it. "I just shorted out the entire security system for ten minutes. It'll take you two to get out of here if you sprint from this direction down the stairs, and through the exit on the right."
Cassidy cocked her head, considering. "So what am I supposed to do for the other eight?"
"Your call."
Just a second of waiting, of anticipation, and then she didn't waste any more time. The guns clattered to the floor immediately, and then she was in her arms, lips moving fast against her lover's, fingers sliding heatedly through short cropped hair that she had loved ever since she was twelve years old.
Heather's hands were already working under her shirt, burning hot palms pressed against her rib cage and smoothing up.
Cassidy moaned and felt obligated to manage, like she always did, "This doesn't change anything. I'm still going to take your Dad down."
Heather stilled, and Cassidy's eyes opened to lock intensely with hers. Her lover pulled a hand gently out of Cassidy's shirt to lovingly lay a palm against her cheek. "I'll still try to stop you."
"Just so we understand each other." Head tilting, she sucked Heather's thumb into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it.
That was enough to cause the other woman to hiss, to dig her hands into Cassidy's mussed red hair and kiss her deeply.
FIN
Author: Misty Flores
Email: mistiec_flores@yahoo.com
Fandom: The Devil Wears Prada / Get Smart Movie (Cross-over)
Pairing: Miranda/Andy, 99/Max, 99/Miranda
Spoilers: Both movies
Archiving: Eventually it'll show up at my own woefully outdated archive
Rating: R for sexual situations.
Summary: Worlds collide when Agent 99 and Maxwell Smart chase Rogue Agent 23 to a charity auction, and discover the inspiration for Agent 99's new face: Andy. Now, a case of mistaken identity has Andrea kidnapped, Max befuddled, and Miranda Priestly pissed off.
Notes: We're done! I know I owe some comments, but thanks to everyone for sticking with me on this. I hope you've enjoyed the ride.
CHAPTERS
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen
--
I wonder if I've been changed in the night? Let me think. Was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is 'Who in the world am I?'
- Alice in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll
Things seldom worked out the way they were supposed to.
Had her life followed the predetermined script meant for her, she would have been finishing law school now, prepping to take the bar, and hopefully managing a flurry of offers from established firms.
Of course, that hadn't happened. Instead, Andy Sachs was a reporter eeking by on a wage that would have been decent in any city but New York. She had a frustrating boss (which was odd, because she would have thought that after Miranda Priestly, any boss would have been a breeze, and yet THIS one annoyed her in more ways than she could count), expensive taste in clothes (thanks, again, to her time with Miranda), and a life that revolved around her job and not much else.
Doing what she loved, she had thought would be satisfying - the happy ending to her soul searching adventure that had resulted in her climatic run from the Dragon Lady.
Andy had vowed to run from Miranda and never look back, and yet here they were again, by some cosmic interference, in the same plush veterinarian waiting room.
Andy stunk like wet dog.
They were alone now. Miranda's children, twin-redheaded little girls who were now two inches taller than she remembered had both fallen asleep in their chairs, slumped over their mother in such a comfortable way it was almost surreal. And it was those energetic little brats who liked to do everything they could to get Andy in trouble (until she got them the Harry Potter book at least), who had been responsible for Miranda still sitting here in the first place.
Clammy hands wringing together, Andy glanced up, too miserable and chilly to feel any sort of shame as she glanced up and regarded the observant glare of one Miranda Priestly. The woman, impeccably dressed as usual, still wore her hair in that signature coiffed. She still looked beautiful.
Andy found it hard to look away.
"Thank you," she found herself saying, an awkward attempt to fill the silence. "I honestly don't know what I would have done-"
The perfectly lined eyebrow rose so high on Miranda's forehead it nearly disappeared into her hairline. "You would have done what you should have done," she answered sharply. "Put that dog out of its misery and saved me a few thousand."
Well, she had never accused Miranda of being sentimental.
"Probably," she acknowledged.
Miranda's lips pursed together severely. "And you can thank my children. Stepping in was their decision, not mine."
Maybe, but Miranda still handed over the card. Pushing down a sigh, Andy nodded grimly and closed her eyes, rubbing her fingers against her forehead, feeling the abused muscles on her back stiffen with complaint.
The door opened, and the veterinarian, dressed in surgical scrubs and with a tired grin on his face, emerged. "Ms. Priestly?"
"Andrea." Fingers lowering, Andrea glanced up. Miranda was nudging her children, waking them up and getting to her feet, slinging her purse back on her shoulder. "I assume you still remember my cell phone number?"
As if she could forget it. That thing had been buried so deeply into her subconscious Andy had accidentally caught herself dialing it three times in the past month.
Miranda Priestly stared at her, noted her small nod, and gave an assured one back. "Then after this visit, my association with this animal ends. You will call Beth with your updated contact information so I can alert you when to pick it up."
Not wanting to even think about what she would do with a dog when her apartment didn't allow apartments, and where on earth she could find a rescue organization that would take an ugly dog with a shattered leg and who knew what else wrong with it, she just nodded tiredly.
"Very well." Once again, Miranda stared at her, the look on her face unreadable.
Andy was too tired to play any guessing games as to what the woman was thinking. She wasn't paid to do that. Not anymore.
And Miranda had made herself quite clear. This had been an unfortunate meeting. She had been quite happy to move along and pretend Andrea didn't exist, but children weren't mind readers, and now here they were. And here they would end again.
The girls followed sleepily as their Mother approached the doctor, and it was only when they all stared at her expectantly.
"What?" she asked.
The little redhead she thought was Caroline rolled her eyes in the most obnoxious way possible, and came forward, grabbing hold of her and dragging her out of the seat.
"Come on!" she said, and moved for Miranda and the vet. "What are you waiting for?"
One glance at Miranda revealed the older woman unexpectedly surprised at the twins' assumption that she was tagging along, but she didn't argue. Instead, she flashed a resigned look of annoyance, reminiscent of a look Miranda had been fond of giving her once upon a time, and the look was so familiar Andy found herself managing a bittersweet smile.
If Miranda was affronted by Andy's amusement, she did not let on. Then again, Andy suspected that Miranda already knew that life seldom worked out the way it was supposed to.
--
Discovering what had occurred in the outside world during the period in which she had spent most of her time unconscious and kidnapped left Andy Sachs feeling a bit like Rip Van Winkle.
In a blink of an eye, her entire world had changed.
It had happened without warning, and the events, as they occurred, had been completely out of her hands.
And it wasn’t just one thing: one secret or one change. No, it was everything. It seemed like everything, anyway.
It was easier before... with Miranda. With the girls. Andy had been so caught up in her relief, in actually FEELING, that there was nothing but the pure joy at the feel of Miranda clutched against her, the texture of beautiful white hair and the feel of soft skin… it never occurred to her to think beyond that.
Until the first unexpected paparazzi flash, tipped off from a spectator neighbor, that had them pushed into a van and secreted away.
Alone for the first time since she had been brought to what she was told was the secret headquarters of an Anti-Terrorism government agency that was supposedly dismantled in the sixties, Andy Sachs discovered herself in a curious state of denial.
As long as she stayed in this chair, as long as she didn't MOVE, then perhaps she could maybe put off attempting to figure this out. At least for the moment.
It seemed unreal - only an unrealistic set of impossible hijinks could cause all this to happen, because not only was her relationship with Miranda no longer their own private secret, but it had become overnight tabloid fodder for the world, thanks to a tango with a woman who was NOT her, but wore her face.
She was tired enough to think to herself that if she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, she could fool herself for even a moment that this had all been some sort of hilarious dream, like the Alice in Wonderland book Maxwell Smart was so fond of.
But there were tells that spoke the truth: the tenderness of her foot, gashes stitched together and bandaged. The discolored blotch of blue and yellow on her jaw courtesy of a hysterical Emily. The warmth and comfort of government issue black pants and button down shirt, with the word CONTROL etched on them.
And there were the magazines that she had requested and received: with the pictures splashed over them of Miranda, looking stunning and gorgeous, ducking into her waiting car with what appeared to be Andy... but wasn't.
Every time she tried to think about the very idea that there was another woman out there... a living breathing woman with her face... that was right about where her mind short-circuited.
The door to the small office clicked open, and when Andy glanced up, she felt breathless; sucker punched.
Andy Sachs had never looked that beautiful. She was sure of that. Sure, this woman had her face... but this wasn’t her. Not the expensively tailored suit, not the glossy black hair, not the severe quirk of the eyebrow as the two doppelgangers found themselves alone together for the first time.
"Hi," Agent 99 said, and Andy didn't care about seeming rude when she just stared. The other woman clicked the door shut behind her, hesitating as she tapped at the folder she held in her hands with fingernails that were longer than Andy's, manicured and polished to perfection. "We didn't get properly introduced before. I'm Agent 99."
The woman with her face.
Too overwhelmed to say anything, Andy offered a choked nod, gnawing on her lower lip as her eyes followed the other woman to the other side of the desk, watching as this agent pulled out her chair and tossed her a hesitant, barely there smile.
"I hope you don't mind that I asked to do this alone," said the other woman, in her own voice, and was that necessary? Did they have to give her her own vocal chords too? "I know this is weird... enough...If Ms. Priestly were here... I don't know if it would be manageable."
The trace of irritation hidden in the voice was impossible to mask, and exhausted, it still brought a ghost of a smile to Andy's face.
"Miranda Priestly? Difficult?" her voice was surprisingly steady. "That's preposterous. I don't know where you're getting your information."
The other woman smiled back. "I spent some time with her. I'm going to be honest, I don't know how you managed to last as her assistant for as long as you did. She's... particular."
Andy wasn't sure if this was small talk or if Agent 99 was just venting. Either way, she was grateful for it. Gave her time to process.
"You have to know what she likes," she answered. "Once you do that, it's pretty easy to figure it out."
Agent 99 studied her, file still in her hands. "I guess you would be the expert."
Andy's fingers tangled together in her lap as they lapsed into silence, and suddenly, she found herself shaking her head, laughing softly.
"What is it?"
Reaching up to wipe at her eyes gently, Andy smoothed her hair back and regarded the other woman. "Just something Caroline once told me," she admitted. "She told me I would never know what it was like to have a twin. Though to be honest, I think they're all crazy. You don't even look that much like me."
"Oh yeah?"
"Your hair is longer," she noted. "And you're... a bit more..." Andy's eyes floated to the woman's body, curvy in places Andy felt lacking.
"If you say fatter I'm going to smack you."
"I was going to say athletic..." she said quickly."And, I hope it doesn't come off as narcissist, but I don’t think I've ever looked as beautiful as you do."
Agent 99's resulting smile was almost painful, and it caused Andy's own to falter. The agent hesitated, before she dropped the folder onto the desk with a dull clap, and with it, all professional pretense.
"Look, Andy..." Agent 99 sucked in her breath, battling with her words. "I understand that this is a shock to you. I can assure you, no one intended to... steal your face... no one except for a mad scientist who is now under arrest for unethical practice... but what's done is done and..."
"And that's that?" she asked, hard lump making it painful to swallow the emotion down. "We're sorry we stole your face; enjoy this lovely parting gift of a CONTROL sweatshirt?"
"That's not what I meant," Agent 99 said quickly, and then screwed her eyes shut, looking so visibly upset Andy's brow furrowed, before the other woman hid the expression with palms pressed against her face, allowing herself time to recover. "This wasn't what I wanted. It was my choice to change my face, but not at the expense of the identity of someone else. You can imagine the wrinkle it causes in the world of espionage to share the features of Miranda Priestly's lover."
Oh, right ... that. "The way Miranda tells it, it was your choice to out her." A ridiculous surge of jealousy welled up inside of her, making her cheeks flush with color. "So... publicly."
Agent 99 tapped her fingers against the desk. "It was a necessity. I was trying to save her life. I was trying to save yours."
Slumping forward, Andy leaned forward, shoulders slumping and head shaking in contemplation. "So what now?"
An audible sigh was her answer. "The Chief has told me that Miranda Priestly has made certain... demands. She's afraid for you, naturally, and has dictated that the first thing that should happen is that I undergo another intensive operation, emerge with a new identity... and if we don't comply, she will do everything within her power to destroy the organization or go public with, as she terms it, 'our immeasurable incompetence'." 99 offered a grim smile.
It wasn't surprising. At her best, Miranda was a leader; at her worst, a dictator who did not see reason. Now that Andy had been brought into her inner circle - her public lover, she would be protected with the same fierceness and loyalty as Miranda did her own children.
Even though she had been sleeping with Miranda for months, the idea that Miranda loved her like that?
Like everything else… it still hit her as surreal. Not tangible. Not yet.
"Could she actually do that?" she asked, curious to know. "She's an editor-in-chief... and you're the government."
"We're a covert agency... no one is supposed to know we exist. Thanks to your unique situation, we've accommodated her, but should Miranda choose to go public..."
"Are you threatening her?"
Agent 99's identical eyes bore into hers. "No," she said, voice gruff. "I'm not. But this isn't up to Miranda. This is up to you."
"What do you mean?"
In a move that Andy found almost creepy, 99 proceeded to gnaw on her lower lip, looking uncertain and so much like her it was almost nauseating. "Andy... I'm going to be honest. The first time I changed my face... I thought it would be easy. It wasn't. The first time I looked at myself in a mirror and didn't see myself... Well..." 99's smile curled crookedly. "I guess you know what that feels like."
Unsteadily, Andy inhaled.
"But... after all that... and it was painful... it was more painful than I ever thought it would be... I started to get past it. These last few months... back in the job and with Max... I felt like myself again. I felt like I could look in the mirror... and see myself." Tears began to glisten beautiful in Agent 99's eyes, and the cynical, detached part of Andy that wasn't tearing up right along with her noted that it didn’t seem fair that this woman got the best parts of her and managed to come out more gorgeous for it. "I don't know if I have it in me to do that again, Andy. I don't. I don't care what the Chief says, if you can't handle it, then I will do it, but ... Andy..." The slender fingers of Agent 99 actually trembled right along with the plump lower lip that had been surgically sculpted to be an exact mimic of hers, and Andy felt herself shiver, unnerved and STILL wanting to detach.
And yet...
"Did you seriously make Miranda tango and then make out with her in the middle of a charity auction?"
The other woman didn't know what to make of that at first, not until the way that Andy's lips pulled into a reluctant smile finally processed, and the trembling lip stalled for a disbelieving smile of her own.
"Did you seriously break a champagne glass over Max's head and tell him that Lewis Carroll was probably a drug addict?"
They regarded each other.
"You're damned right I did," Andy said, and suddenly they were chortling- twin peals of hysterical laughter that filled the room.
In that action, the world that now existed became a little more manageable.
--
Earlier this afternoon, in a CONTROL bathroom, Agent 99 leaned on a sink, looked into a borrowed face blinking back at her from the mirror and wondered how long it would be before she would once again be wearing the face of a stranger.
The resulting devastation had been so intense that for a full minute, she had struggled to breathe.
It had been the closest 99 had come to breaking down since this whole thing had begun, and she supposed it was only thanks to her training that it had come after the real danger had passed.
Agent 99 had never relied on anything from anyone. Agent 23, who had been a better agent than she had been, had told her on her very first mission that in this business, the people she could trust she could count with one finger: herself.
She had believed him, and did learn the lesson the hard way: with a new face, a new identity, and a surly personality.
Through the monitor on the Chief's desk, she observed the man 23 had become: clad in an orange jumpsuit and curled on the mattress in a holding cell.
Different faces. Different people.
"99."
Glancing up, she straightened her posture and offered the Chief a welcoming nod, moving out of the way and crossing glances with Max.
Her lover's smile was always sweet, and it always made her feel warm.
"So what's the status, 99?" The Chief asked, all business as he settled down at his desk and looked at her expectantly. "Max told me you have good news."
She hesitated, crossing her arms and keeping her voice even. "More or less. I did talk to Andy Sachs and we were able to negotiate a deal." She handed over the folder she had been carrying. "These are the details."
After a grimace, the Chief took the file and began to glimpse through it. "What's this? This is ridiculous. I didn't give you any authorization to offer her a job."
She smiled grimly. "I took a chance. We need a good analyst, and she's sharp. The background came through clear, and let's be honest, Chief. Since we outted her relationship to Miranda Priestly, she's not exactly employable at her current department. Not to mention the whole 'we stole her face' thing."
"There's no laws about stealing a face. And we're not in this business for the ethics."
"We should be thankful that some of us have them." 99 gently reached out and tugged at Max's sleeve. "She says the major reason she's allowing us to go forward is because Max promised to bring her alive and intact to Ms. Priestly and her children. In return, she felt she owed him a similar courtesy."
Max blushed adorably, and 99 felt the unnatural choke of emotion lodge in her throat. Carefully, she pushed it down.
"I can vouch for her, Chief," Max interrupted, coming forward with a nod. "I've spent considerable time with her, and although we were both unconscious for the majority of the time, I found her extraordinarily quick witted, and despite some questionable literary beliefs, quite stable. With some training she could even make a good agent."
99 blinked, jerking her head to Max's. "I wouldn't go that far."
"I might." The Chief snapped his fingers, already thinking. "Twin agents. The idea has merit."
"She can't be an agent," 99 snapped, "She's famous now. Her face is on every tabloid cover in the country."
"And so is yours, 99," the Chief pointed out helpfully. "If you're going to keep that face we need to figure out how to work around it or you're going to join your new friend as an analyst."
The very idea caused a sour turn in her stomach. "Andy and I came up with an idea."
Max arched a brow. "Oh? What is it?"
"How do you feel about being called Uncle Max?"
The Chief, noting the glance of affection, rolled his eyes. "So you're taking the twin thing to heart. That's fine. And how does the great Ms. Priestly feel about all this?"
"I've decided to let Andy break it to her," she said, lips quirking in a grimace. "It seems safest for everyone that way."
--
Miranda had never been the needy, clingy type, and it was an annoyance that Andy brought that out in her.
Miranda understood very well that she required a measure of control in her life, and it was absolutely maddening that complete ownership of Andy was just not possible.
Had Miranda had any say in the matter whatsoever, Andy would have been taken to her townhouse, branded on her ass with Miranda's initials, and never been allowed to leave the room.
As it were, she did not have a say in the matter, and the result was a highly frustrating wait with her children, until Andrea returned to her with an expression that was both disconcerting and uncertain.
Miranda, warring between relief and indignation at being left waiting in an interrogation room of all things, found no room for any emotional shenanigans. "Well?"
The children scampered to their feet, less in control of their impatience than she. "Wha'd happened?!" asked Caroline, and Cassidy, of a one-track mind, blurted, "What about Heather?"
Andy's hesitant smile faltered and her kind, beautiful eyes drifted once to Miranda before descending to Miranda's children. To Caroline, she said, "99 and I worked out a deal. She'll be keeping her face, and I'll be taking a job here."
Miranda's brows jolted up immediately, but Andrea had already moved on to her youngest. "I'm sorry, honey. I wish I knew. 99 did tell me that Heather was being considered for foster care, considering they can't locate her mother. Emily has apparently expressed interest in taking her on as a charge, but considering she has … special skills and Emily's … situation is what it is, it's pretty obvious that's not going to happen."
"Foster care?"
That her daughter looked so devastated caused an ache inside of Miranda, who knew all too well the appeal of a forbidden romance, but at the moment, she would not indulge it.
It was better to force the child to move on. At twelve, they were able to do so quickly.
"They've offered you employment."
Andrea's eyes floated to hers, met hers without fear or hesitation. "I demanded it. Miranda, my career is trashed. And let's face it, I've always wanted to save the world. This is just a different way of doing it."
"By locking yourself away," she said, more disturbed than she cared to admit. "By working for a spy organization. The very organization that nearly got you killed."
"No, Miranda," Andrea said firmly. "They're the ones that saved my life. And you know it."
"Had it not been for their incompetence-"
"Miranda."
"Andy, you will not-"
"No, Miranda." Andrea's voice cut into her like a hard knife, making her falter. "I'm not asking you if this is okay. This is what is going to happen. I'm not going to let you say no to this."
Apparently, whether or not she said yes to it held no weight either.
The charged silence was only worsened by Miranda's suddenly heavy breathing, as her anger caused a heated flush of her cheeks, and the urge to lash.
Her lover once again glanced down at the suddenly quiet girls. "I've arranged for you to see Heather, Cassidy, before we go."
The joy on her daughter's face was transforming. "Really?"
"Really," Andrea said, as the child launched into her arms and squeezed her fiercely. "Just outside the door there is an agent that will take you to her. Caroline, will you go with her?"
The eyes of her daughter crossed with hers briefly, an unspoken request for permission.
Miranda nodded subtly. Clearly, she and Andrea needed to be alone. Andrea's dark orbs locked onto hers, held as she stayed three feet away, waiting until the girls had moved away from them and closed the door behind them.
Sucking in a lungful of air through her nostrils, Miranda discovered herself the owner of a fragile heart. She hid it firmly behind fury.
"It was not your right to allow her to see that little girl."
"Cassidy thinks she's in love."
"She's twelve years old," Miranda spat. "She has yet to discover what love is."
"That's unfair. You told me yourself what Heather was willing to do for her."
"And that child's good intentions do not excuse her father or what he did. I indulged the friendship when I thought it was innocent. At the moment, there is no such thing. You should not have allowed her to see her."
"I did, and I would again."
"So this is how things are going to work for you," she began, voice low, as loud as she dared considering she was a hairsbreadth away an emotional tantrum. "You're going to dictate to me how things will work for us."
The statement sunk into the silence, and sudden she heard an audible sigh. Andrea took a step toward her, then another, until she was carefully sinking down beside her.
The tip of her pinkie brushed against hers.
"Miranda, exactly one day ago, I was engaged in a secret affair with one of the most powerful women in America, and I was under the belief that the only person walking around Manhattan who looked exactly like me was me." Andrea's lips curled into a bittersweet smile. "Now, not only does the entire world know that I'm your lover, but I'm being treated as your partner, and I seem to have gained a twin sister who is a licensed killer. I don't mean to seem selfish but some of this I need to process."
Rationally, Miranda understood the younger woman had every right to want this. Irrationally, the idea that Andrea would need time to consider her fate beside Miranda filled her with so much fear she nearly keeled over from the force of it.
"As long as I'm employed by CONTROL, we'll have complete protection."
The statement forced her out of her thoughts, caused a sudden blink of incomprehension.
"Pardon?"
Andrea's brown eyes shifted quickly in her direction. "You came out to save my life and to save yours, but you haven't talked to Irv or thought about what it would mean for your career-"
"Exactly how twisted do you think my priorities are?" Their eyes met, held. Feeling uncharacteristically dizzy, Miranda began carefully, "I've taken the liberty of moving your things to the house. Take all the time you wish to process, you can even stay in a spare room if you'd like, but I have absolutely no intention of letting you out of my sight for the foreseeable future." No longer trusting herself to stare into Andrea's beautiful face and second guess her intentions, her eyes moved to the floor. "In regards to the children…"
The hand brushing her pinkie drifted to completely cover her own, fingers curling around Miranda's in gentle warmth.
"Miranda, I love you." The words caused an unconscious hitch, a jerk of Miranda's head to Andrea's face. "I love your children, and my only regret in any of this is that it took both of us nearly dying to actually have the courage to say that. If I could spend the rest of your life making your life miserable by giving your kids unwelcome advice about sex and bringing home stray dogs, that would make me insanely happy."
It sounded absolutely hellish. A complete headache.
Everything Miranda dared not ever hope for.
"But right now, there's only one thing I want from you."
The grip on her hand was tight, unyielding, and overwhelmed, Miranda only arched a brow.
The beautiful face spread into a beautiful smile. "I want you to teach me how to tango." Miranda blinked, and that released the most appealing sound of laughter from her beloved.
Rising to her feet, Miranda felt her bearings return to her, and her heart settle in a firm, secure place that had not been touched since the moment Andrea had walked away from her, years before.
With an indulgent, loving smile, she opened her palm and held it out to her Andrea. When Andrea tangled their fingers together, Miranda pulled, reeling the younger woman in until they were flush against each other, intimately entwined.
"My darling," she whispered, husky and gentle. "What on earth do you think we've been doing all these months?"
Her head lowered, and with a sigh, she kissed Andrea's smile; breathed it in like air.
--
Cassidy had always thought of Heather as strong. Heather had always been tough. She had never cared what anyone thought about it, and Cassidy loved that more than fashion or popularity or anything that Caroline thought was important.
But Heather didn't look strong or tough. She just looked small. She looked shorter than Cassidy remembered and Cassidy knew it was silly, because it had only been a day since they had seen each other, and still… Heather was so small.
When she saw her, pushed into the room by stupid Agent Larabee who was an ABSOLUTE IDIOT, she launched to her feet, and Cassidy felt something jerk inside of her that sprang tears to her eyes.
Ignoring Caroline and her stare, she moved fast, and then she had her arms around her. Eyes closed, chest heaving, Cassidy found herself suddenly battling the urge to sob like a child, because Heather was alive and warm and in a terrible, terrible situation, and Cassidy loved her as much as she had ever loved anything.
"Cass," Heather whispered. Cassidy felt fingers smoothing through her hair, and she shut her eyes tighter, screwed them shut and tried to make herself believe that this was going to be okay. Because it was. Her mother said anything was possible; Cassidy just had to want it enough.
"It's going to be okay," she whispered, nose burying into Heather's hoodie, gripping Heather even tighter when she felt and heard a ragged sigh. "No, listen!" Her vision had gone blurry, and she pulled back just enough to press her palms against Heather's smooth cheeks. "Listen, Andy's going to work for these guys. And maybe she can pull some strings and get you to stay with us."
Heather's dark eyes were luminous, and for a second, Cassidy thought maybe there was some hope there, but it was gone, buried into that part of Heather that Cassidy had always wanted to touch and never knew how.
"Cass, get real," Heather answered gruffly, bitterly. Her hands moved from her back and to her arms, and she rubbed at them up and down, over and over, like she was trying to keep Cassidy warm. "Your mom won't let you be with me. Not after all this."
"You don't know that."
"Yes, I do!" Heather snapped, and the answer was loud and firm and almost angry. "And so do you. Don't be naïve about this."
She was talking to her like she was talking to a child, and Cassidy felt her temper flare in response. "Don't tell me what to think."
Heather stared at her, glanced behind her, and at the sudden guarded look, Cassidy turned and remembered her sister, who stared at them, huddled together so intimately, like Cassidy had grown horns.
She remembered being so close to her sister she could finish sentences with just a glance.
Caroline's jaw was visibly stiff, but she sucked in her breath and shook her head, met her glance intensely. "I'm not leaving you alone with her."
"Caroline!"
"Cass, wait… it doesn't matter." Fingers tightened around her biceps, and Cassidy's attention refocused, lost it's furious anger at her sister and instead focused on the body pressed against hers. Heather's breathing was hard, like she had been running forever, and was trying to catch her breath. "Listen to me, okay? I love you."
It didn't sound like 'I love you'. It sounded like goodbye. Unable to help herself, she began to shake her heard uncontrollably. "You can't give up, Heather-"
"I'm not giving up." Dark bangs teased against her nose as Heather's forehead tilted against hers, her words careful and quiet. "But you had to save Andy… I've got to save my Dad."
It didn't process first. What it meant. Heather was being ridiculous, and then Cassidy jolted back to stare at her, and she realized that Heather wasn't kidding.
"He tried to kill Andy," she whispered, disbelief barely giving breath to her words. "He tried to kill everyone."
"He's still my Dad," Heather answered back, eyes big and brown and pleading with her to understand. "Cass, he's the only family I've got."
"You said you hated him! You wanted us to get you away from him!"
Heather just stared at her, looking at her like she was hoping that Cassidy would suddenly be okay with this. "What's the alternative? Foster homes? Locked up in CONTROL? He loves me, Cass. He loves me, and if I can save him-"
"You can't save him."
"I can. And you can come with me."
Oh, God. Cassidy suddenly hated her. She hated her so much. Because she couldn't do this. Not this…
"He tried to kill Andy…" she managed, barely above an ache.
"He's my DAD," Heather rasped. "And he's all I've got."
Nothing had hurt like this. Nothing had ever hurt like this. Because it was Heather saying this, and Heather had always … Heather had always…
"I can't," she breathed, unable to stop the tears as they slid down her cheeks. She felt like such a baby, but she couldn't stop them. "I can't. I'm twelve!"
But she couldn't let go of Heather. She wouldn't. She held onto those shoulders and drowned into the wet brown eyes that were staring at her so beseechingly, and dammit- yesterday they had been texting about going to see Wicked again…
Her chest ached. She couldn't breathe.
"Heather," she wheezed.
A body forcibly jerked between them, breaking her grip, throwing her nearly off balance.
Caroline, suddenly between them, and holding her arm, thrust something hard at Heather's chest. "Here. Take it and get out of here." It was Hymie's remote.
Panting, Cassidy cast her a wild, anxious glance, but Caroline wasn't looking at her.
"What, is this is a trap?" Heather breathed.
"No. I'm serious," Caroline snapped. "I knocked out the agent outside. The robot's waiting out there. I want you go to away. So just take it and break your dad out, but you promise not to go near her again."
Heather's eyes met hers helplessly, and Cassidy, no less sure of herself, only opened her mouth and closed it again.
Carefully, deliberately, Heather stuffed the remote into her pocket, and once again looked at her. "Cass-"
"No." Caroline snapped. "You leave. That's all."
Her sister held onto her so tightly, and Heather was so far away…
It seemed like it wasn't really happening, when Heather launched forward and before Caroline could stop her, had grabbed hold of her wrist and yanked her away from her sister.
Fingers grabbed hard at her nape and suddenly Cassidy's lips were being plundered with chapped dry lips, forcing open her mouth with the tip of her tongue, and Heather was kissing her like she had never kissed her before.
"I love you," Heather whispered against her mouth. "I love you."
And then she let her go, leaving her swaying as she headed for the door.
Caroline caught her, held her close. Dizzily, Cassidy whispered, "Why did you help her?"
"Because you love her. And you would have regretted not helping her for the rest of your life."
The tears slipped silently down her cheeks, and her fingers flailed blindly for her sister's, clutching them tight. "We don't tell Mom about it."
"Never," Caroline answered gruffly, then… "Cassidy."
"What?"
"I'm sorry."
She couldn't help it. She turned into her sister's arms and cried her heart out, because that was all she could do.
--
The burning from the bandaged wound on his side was a welcome distraction to the mind numbing boredom that he knew was coming from years in high security prison.
If he didn't get the death penalty first.
As it was, the only things he had to look forward to in here were verbally berating the agents too stupid to be trusted with anything else but security guard duty, and devising in his head a new plan to get back at Max and 99 once he figured out a way to get out of here.
The clank of the locks alerted him to the entrance of another guard, and though Dwayne, who had come to memorize the layout of the CONTROL network the first time he had broken into it, noted it for the oddness of it, he welcomed the respite from his annoying inability to stop worrying about his kid.
Closing his eyes, he shifted uncomfortably on the cot he was strapped to, and commented idly, "Bad timing, asshole. I just let a fart rip that could decimate a city block."
"Lovely," drawled a dry British voice. "Sexiest thing you've done all year."
He jerked forward so fast he nearly tore his stitches. Nearly blinded from the pain, he sank back onto the cot, tugging at his restraints as he sucked in a large breath and stared at Emily.
The red haired woman had her shoulder pressed against the open security door. From her fingers dangled keys. She shook them merrily.
"What are you doing here?!" he asked gruffly.
Emily arched a lazy brow, studying him. "I think I like you this way," she commented, and stepped into the cell, eyes roving from head to foot. "The only way it could really be improved would be to gag you."
"Fuck you," he growled, and began to shimmy, heart beating so fast now that she was here. "Get me out of these. Where's Heather?"
Dark eyes met hers, and Emily's eyes danced with mirth. "You forgot the magic word."
Only a fucking lunatic would think this was amusing. "Are you kidding me?"
Emily's smirk only deepened, and fuck, why on earth did Dwayne find this in anyway attractive?
"Heather is fine. She's the one that got me these," she said, jingling the keys to his freedom yet again.
"You two were pretty cozy last time I saw you," he admitted, and it was with grudging admiration. There were very few people who surprised him anymore. Emily's willingness to protect his daughter, even from himself…
He wouldn't look at her the same way again.
"You and I need to come to an understanding," the woman explained, settling into cot beside him, and spreading a warm open palm against his thigh. The muscles in his groin jumped in reaction. When Emily chuckled, he grit his teeth, ignoring it. She squeezed his thigh, smoothed her fingers up closer, until she had just brushed his dick. He hissed. "Clearly you're in no position to argue."
"Clearly," he managed, glaring hard. Emily's smile was damned evil. "Wha'd you have in mind?"
"Let's start with you desisting with your pathetic and baseless attempts to kill me," Emily began firmly. "And a promotion for me."
"A promotion?" He blinked, gulped when Emily's hand smoothed over his dick and began to massage it through the pants. "Emily, for fuck's sake-"
"I took a lot at your books, remember?" she said, sounding cloudy over the blood rushing in his ears. His dick was growing painfully hard, and still Emily wouldn't stop. "You need a lot of help. And I need a job. Thanks to you and your daughter, I'm unemployed."
His eyes squinted open. "So what? Now you want to help run a terrorist organization?"
"Is that so different from fashion?"
Her fingers smoothed against the strained tent in his pants, pressing down. He jerked his hips, and her smile widened.
He stared at her, lost in crystal green eyes and a beautiful, brilliant face.
"You're a manipulative bitch, you know that?" The wonder in his voice was impossible to disguise, and Dwayne felt like a horny thirteen year old with a crush.
In answer, Emily leaned forward and suddenly they were kissing; wet, hot, open kisses that did nothing to alleviate his erection and had him instead groaning for release.
She stopped; smiled against his mouth. "No," she said softly. "Not yet."
One jerk against his wrists, then another, and suddenly he was free, being helped up by the most insane and intoxicating woman alive.
"How'd you get in here?"
"I told you," Emily whispered, and pressed against her ear. "Heather? I've got him. Lead us out."
Into the cell came Hymie, wearing his happy smile and carrying a semi automatic rifle.
"Good afternoon, Agent 23," he said pleasantly. "Are you ready for your escape?"
"She stole Hymie?" he whispered, overcome.
"Borrowed," Emily informed him. "Heather's one rule in this, we put him back. Apparently the girl's in love."
Clutching onto an insane neurotic piece of hot ass for support, Dwayne decided that he knew something about that. With a wide grin, he bent down and pressed his lips hard against Emily's. "Let's get out of here," he breathed. "Have a ton of sex, flee the country with my kid, and take over the world."
"What? In that order?" Emily asked.
"Sounds like a plan to me."
"I'd probably flee the country first."
-END CHAPTER
EPILOGUE - 15 YEARS LATER
Begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end: then stop.
- Alice in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll
Cassidy Priestly supposed that going into the family business was a little antiquated, but she had never thought about doing anything else. Her mother, upon discovering her decision to follow in her step-mother's footsteps, ranted and raved and wouldn't speak to her for a full week.
No one did a temper tantrum better than her mother, even at sixty-five.
Thankfully, after fifteen years, her mother's wife (and Cassidy's step-mother) had gotten quite good at weathering the storms, and all it had taken was a sincere conversation with her spy-mom and another with Uncle Max and Aunt Anne (because her mother insisted they couldn't call 99 a number in real life), to allow them all to convince her mother that Cassidy's interests were pure.
Besides, her mom had Caroline, who had always been nice and normal anyway, working her way up at Runway and already the head of her own department.
At least as far as her mother knew, anyway.
"You're going to kill Mom, when you tell her," Cassidy said, whisper quiet as she squeezed carefully through the opening she had created for herself. The room was quiet, save for the electric buzzing of the mainframe that stood glaring in the middle of the room.
She was in the heart of KAOS headquarters, and that she had managed to get in here at all and not be killed trying was thanks to her sister Caroline, who, as Secret Agent 2.5, had become a wiz of robotics and hacking.
A hobby Caroline had kept up in between fashion shows and layouts.
Someone had to be an overachiever, at any rate. Cassidy was better at the physical stuff, anyhow.
"No one's going to tell her," Caroline said pointedly. "And I'm only doing this because I know if I leave you on your own, you'll get yourself killed."
Caroline had spent years trying to protect her. It had become a habit that Cassidy now wished she had tried to curb.
"I really wish you'd stop thinking you have to," she whispered, grunting slightly as she spread out flat against the floor, eyeing the lasers and touch sensors that dotted the room, floor to ceiling. "And get your own life. Date someone other than old vacuous brawny losers."
"Just because you're the gay one doesn't give you the right to call Casey a loser," she heard snarled into her ear.
"He works at a Buy More! And he's over forty!"
"Shut up. You know damn well that's just a cover. He's a great guy. Now hurry up, I've got a photoshoot in ten minutes."
Suppressing the urge to smile, Cassidy rolled to her feet, making sure to tread lightly. "Say when."
A moment, the sound of clicking, and then… "When."
Lights flickered, failed. Cassidy sprinted into action, sprinting across the floor and slapping the device designed to sucked out the information from the mainframe, and upload KAOS' secrets to CONTROL headquarters.
"Done!" she said, and then a siren pierced through the air that nearly burst her eardrums. "Shit."
"FUCK," she heard in her ear. "Get out of there!"
Cassidy didn't need to be told twice. Pulling out her gun, she broke into a run, ducking down and sliding fast toward the door as they opened, just like she knew they would. With two quick shots, she brought down the entering guards, and caught herself on the edge of the door, using the momentum to pull herself up.
"I thought you had made sure not to trip the safeguards!" she spat, pumping her arms as she turned a sharp corner and headed for the alternate exit.
"I did!" Caroline snarled back, and Cassidy was sure she did. Her sister usually thought of everything. "Someone must have seen it coming!"
"Somebody must have-" Cassidy turned another corner, and nearly collided with a perfect rose, tied onto the doorknob. Already breathing hard, Cassidy felt her heart tremble. Of course. "Heather," she said in resignation, in time with her sister.
"God-dammit. That means she's there. Cassidy!?" Her lips gone dry, she sucked in an unsteady breath and carefully reached for the knob. "Cassidy, for God-sakes, come on! Get out of there! Don't let her trap you!"
"I never LET her!" she snapped, and that was true. She never LET her…
"Cassidy, you're not twelve anymore, okay? Her dad and stepmother are the head of the world's biggest terrorist organization-"
"I know…" she whispered, and with her gun held up, she opened the door and stepped into the stairwell.
"She's on FBI's Top Ten Most Wanted!"
"I know that too."
The stairwell was dark. Unwavering, Cassidy moved down the stairs, one at a time, into the darkness.
"Cassidy?"
Another step, and another, and then her breath caught, as the sirens stopped and from the shadows, emerged a beautiful woman with short cropped hair, gun pointed straight at her heart.
"How the hell did I know you'd try stealing my fucking database, AGAIN?" Heather breathed, eyes glittering dangerously.
Cassidy kept her finger on the trigger, but allowed herself to look, to feel for the girl that got away.
"Cassidy!?" Caroline had taken to screeching now. "She's evil!"
"I'm gonna have to call you back, sis," Cassidy whispered, and reached up to cut off the communication. "Have fun at your photoshoot."
"I’m TELLING ANDY!!"
The phone clicked off, and there was nothing left but the fierce adrenaline, the whisper soft quiet of Heather's breathing, and the dizzying affect of being in this woman's presence.
"Cass," Heather breathed, an easy greeting.
"Heather," she returned, just as easily. "It's been a few months."
"You haven't tried to fuck me up in a while," Heather noted, smirk twitching on her features. "I was beginning to think you didn't care."
"I don't," she said carefully. "You've stolen government secrets, I’m just getting them back."
"That was Fulcrum, not KAOS."
"Which is why you're pointing a gun at me."
Heather arched a brow. "You started it."
Cassidy licked her lips, but couldn't hide the smile from her features. "It's already finished. The information is uploading to the server as we speak."
"Only half of it. I caught it using a failsafe."
"Of course you did."
"How's your step-mom?"
"Fine," she said evenly. "How's yours?"
"Fine. A total bitch," Heather said, tongue darting out to moisten her lower lip. "But my dad likes it that way."
"Great. Good for him."
Between them was more than the distance of feet. KAOS and CONTROL bled from their souls, and it was more than jobs, it was family.
And yet…
Heather pulled a button from her pocket and pressed it. "I just shorted out the entire security system for ten minutes. It'll take you two to get out of here if you sprint from this direction down the stairs, and through the exit on the right."
Cassidy cocked her head, considering. "So what am I supposed to do for the other eight?"
"Your call."
Just a second of waiting, of anticipation, and then she didn't waste any more time. The guns clattered to the floor immediately, and then she was in her arms, lips moving fast against her lover's, fingers sliding heatedly through short cropped hair that she had loved ever since she was twelve years old.
Heather's hands were already working under her shirt, burning hot palms pressed against her rib cage and smoothing up.
Cassidy moaned and felt obligated to manage, like she always did, "This doesn't change anything. I'm still going to take your Dad down."
Heather stilled, and Cassidy's eyes opened to lock intensely with hers. Her lover pulled a hand gently out of Cassidy's shirt to lovingly lay a palm against her cheek. "I'll still try to stop you."
"Just so we understand each other." Head tilting, she sucked Heather's thumb into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it.
That was enough to cause the other woman to hiss, to dig her hands into Cassidy's mussed red hair and kiss her deeply.
FIN