Work Text:
Title: Left Behind. 1/1.
Characters: Andy/Miranda
Word Count: 5768
Rating: PG
Summary: Andrea is left behind at a rest stop after a successful shoot in Napa, California.
Disclaimer: standard disclaimer on my fic community and my LJ page
A/N: I have been wanting to write something for Poke The Dragon. In fact I have, however it’s massive and needs a final run through, so that and you will have to wait. I wanted this to be more Crack!Fic than it actually turned out, but I do think there’s a little shark jumping in there.
Prompt: Because of a strange mis-hap (writers choice)Andy gets left behind at a rest/gas station restroom while the Runway crew is on its way to a location for a shoot. Miranda panics - Andy panics - chaos insues while trying to reunite. From: 
mxrolkr
Link: http://dvlwears-prada.livejournal.com/2465734.html?thread=18845382#t18845382
Left Behind. 1/1.
Sighing, Miranda settled back against the black leather of the limousine’s seat. ‘Wine country,’ the silver haired editor rolled her eyes at the thought, ‘so romantic.’ If it was anymore romantic, Miranda might have to puke into one of those little motion sickness bags that were in the side pocket near the music player instructions. Mountains in the distance, blue skies above them, hot air balloons floating away, endless rows of grapevines ripening on the sides of the rolling hills—it was all a bit over the top like some kind of Disneyland created set, only it was real. Sure there were abandoned buildings, pieces missing and graffiti the only coat they had against the winters here. Likely there were feral cats with their bones protruding and three legged dogs hopping to and fro on their over worn paws. Yet none of those things were what had Miranda in her current state of snit.
The shoot had gone well. The models were beautiful as specified. The weather had contributed to the lighting. The wineries and hot air balloon companies had bent over backward to provide access and stunning backgrounds. Not to mention all the wine a person could drink.
Her snit was brought on by the fact that even though neither editor or assistant had imbibed, the tension between them had skyrocketed out of control. Wishing she could literally sit on pins and needles, Miranda’s brain had assumed the worst, her first instinct was to fire the source of her discomfort. It was a tactic she had used quite effectively over the years. You didn’t have to yield to a temptation if you cut it out like a cancer and discarded it somewhere far, far away. People thought she blacklisted in order to further torture. Sure, that was part of it, but on a few notable occasions when the rising stars had fallen as quickly as they came… Well, those were the times that Miranda had spared herself a seat in the armchair of cliché—older boss chases beautiful model half her age, older boss with assistant between her legs, etc.
Groaning as she considered the unfortunate necessity of firing and then blacklisting her beautiful Andrea (not for her crimes against fashion, or even her failings as an assistant), Miranda sighed as her mind looped around two horrors stemming from the same root:
1. Miranda was already too late, as in her mind’s heart, she referred to Andrea as hers
and
2. Andrea could very well turn around and pursue a wrongful termination suit with a sexual harassment special circumstance.
Pinching the bridge of her nose, Miranda disdainfully asked, “Why are we still here?” Looking out at the darkness falling over the golden hills, Miranda wished at once for this trip to end and go on forever. She wanted to hold onto her last moments of hopefulness with that lovely brunette by her side. Landing in New York would all too quickly bring an end to the time Miranda could bask in their closeness. There were murmurs and then the crunch of gravel as the limousine backed out of the white lines and headed once more toward the interstate.
*** *** ***
Andrea sighed as she pressed the buttons for a Dr. Pepper. It had been a long trip for her frazzled heart. Miranda inspired her to be her best, to always rise above any occasion, and to see her needs before she even had a chance to feel she was lacking. It was not just a mindless puppy desire to please the woman. Andrea had hoped early on that she had simply fallen into the Runway trap of worshipping Miranda Priestly. Unfortunately as the days and weeks passed her by, Andrea discovered that this woman was first of all inspiring in her work ethic and her dedication to the larger cause of fashion. Unable to rule the world (though Andrea wouldn’t put it past the woman) Miranda had channeled her efforts into the fashion magazine Runway. Everyday she made hard decisions of what to keep and what to let go, and she genuinely thought about the implications for her decisions not only for fashion (be it belts or bridal wear), but for the company and its people as well. Second, and this was the more disturbing part for Andrea, Miranda was a beautiful woman from the inside out. Andrea had seen her as a doting mother, a demanding ex-wife, a disillusioned lover (Stephen was such an imbecile!) and a woman who breathed poetry. Andrea wanted to be a dedicated worker always striving for better than her best for the former, and she wanted to proclaim her love on bended knee for the latter.
It had become crystal clear on this trip, this anniversary of her year working at Runway, that Andrea had suddenly realized she had to go. She had to flee far, far from this woman who would slowly dismantle her heart until it stopped functioning—not because she was cruel as so many thought, but because she was simply unaware of Andrea’s feelings.
As soon as the car had come to rest in the parking space of the rest stop, Andrea had fled the car. Making calls and setting things up for their return to New York, Andrea dialed and spoke swiftly. The girls’ father knew what time to have the twins back. Cara would freshen up the townhouse. The production room would have the Book ready. The photographers, who were Napa locals, knew to have their work uploaded in time for the morning’s briefing. Andrea had breathed quite a few breaths of fresh air. The chill of the evening was descending as the sun shifted down the hills surrounding them. Figuring it was better to use the opportunity than to waste it, Andrea slipped into the women’s toilet to relieve bladder. Traffic into San Francisco could get quite ugly and there were not going to be any more stops.
Washing her hands, Andrea had considered her options and decided that a little caffeine covered in sugary syrup was just what the doctor ordered. Feeling in her pockets she was pleased to find a mangled dollar bill and fifty cents in change. If she could just find a way to iron out the bill, then she could have her 16 oz. of heaven. After four tries the bill was sucked into the machine and thankfully not spit out. Andrea slipped coin after coin into the machine, pausing to rub a dime clean before putting it back in for a second chance. Luckily, it took and the total showed the magic number. Andrea pressed the button for her beverage wondering if Miranda might want something. True there was no coffee in those machines, but she had to drink something else occasionally, right?
Closing her eyes, Andrea savored the first few sips of her drink.
Lowering the bottle from her mouth, Andrea wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand.
Exhaling, the brunette looked up to see the last of the Runway rentals backing out of its parking space and then rolling like a slow motion movie across the parking lot. Dropping her soda with a bouncing, syrupy thud, Andrea ran like she had not had to do in a very long time. She ran with her heart in her throat, but it was too late. Her brain calculated the distances and speeds easily as she ran as if she was looking to head off the opposing La Crosse team’s forward on a breakaway to the goal. They were simply too far away for her to catch, given the speed at which she could run.
*** *** ***
“Andrea, call the twins’ father. Make sure he knows our arrival time.” Miranda didn’t look away from the window—her beautiful brunette was always ready, always there to make her life better. She simply commanded and then continued her perusal of the darkness enveloping the day.
For many long moments the car continued on its path and the occupants of the limousine continued to breath easy. Then all hell broke loose. At first it was just the simple act of fellow workers looking for the person to complete the task so that the boss would remain happy. Then it was the concerned look around of work friends hoping that their buddy wasn’t asleep when the boss had called on them. From the work and the personal concerns a murmur began in the limousine as people asked up and down the not too long rows of seats, ‘Where is Andrea?’ After a few unsatisfied minutes of escalating tension, Emily’s voice screeched out over the others, “What do you mean, ‘left behind’?”
This snapped Miranda from her thoughtful stupor and right into a decidedly unpleasant present.
Blinking, Miranda looked to her right and left. Narrowing her eyes at the shrug from Nigel and the lack of Andrea between her hip and the door, Miranda sought out the head of red hair that would no doubt be emitting smoke if her shriek was anything to go by. “Where is Andrea?” Miranda inquired at her lowest register.
Holding up her phone, Emily’s face was lit by the small screen’s glow. “I’m texting the other vehicles right now, Miranda.”
Tilting her head, Miranda did not like that Emily had avoided answering the actual question and that she had not followed up on her earlier squawk. “Emily.” Miranda flexed her suddenly sweaty palms against her trousers. She resisted the urge to ball them into fists and to launch herself out of her seat to choke the daylights out of her First Assistant. She was the only one being helpful, and it wouldn’t do, Miranda reminded herself, to kill the only hope she had of figuring this out.
Emily’s eyes went wide as they eclipsed her eye shadow in surprise. “She’s not with the models.” Her thumb jabbed at more buttons as a bead of sweat developed over her temple. “She’s not with the photographers.” As the phone vibrated a third time, Emily held her breath. “She’s not with the production crew either.”
Her heart sinking in her chest, Emily looked up and across the darkness of the expansive limo to take in the worried expression in Miranda’s blue, blue eyes.
*** *** ***
Andrea stood forlorn at the mouth of the rest stop. She could not believe her luck. Of all the fucking things to happen to her since leaving Ohio for the Big Apple, this had to be the most fucked up. Sure, it had been awful to settle for an assistant job getting coffee instead of landing a cub reporting spot at a paper. Obviously it had been hell to adjust to the shallow world of the clackers and let them make her over like Mid-West Barbie. Her heart had broken as she watched her boyfriend and then her friends drop her like a hot potato. Her feet hurt every single fucking day wearing those shoes. To add insult to injury, Andrea had fallen in love with the woman she could have so easily blamed for all the changes, the missed dates, the forgotten birthdays, and lack of sex drive with her then lover.
This—being left at a rest stop in Napa Valley in California with a cell phone on the verge of dying and her last $1.50 spilled on the concrete fifty feet away—was the worst.
Miranda, the woman her heart beat for, hadn’t even noticed she was missing and hadn’t turned around to come and get her even if she had noticed.
Walking back to the flickering light of the rest stop, Andrea couldn’t help but kick the plastic bottle her soda had been in. Then as it rolled away, she felt bad for littering and she went and picked it up. Sighing she eyed it, but then poured out the liquid and dumped it into the recycle bin.
Looking at her phone, she figured that she had one call left before it died. Sitting down on the concrete bench, Andrea Sachs felt like a criminal. She wanted to call Miranda and ask her how she could have left her like that? To ask if she meant so little to the woman that she didn’t even notice her presence or her lack. Rationally she knew that was a stupid call to make. The answer was as plain as day as the sunlight faded and the fluorescent blubs became her only illumination—obviously the entire Runway contingent had not noticed that she was missing.
She thought about calling Emily or Nigel. Would they turn back to get her? Miranda would not want the entire limousine to miss their flight home. Miranda would especially not want to miss her plane back to her daughters.
Andrea considered calling the police. Yet, no crime had really happened and she was safe enough (for now, her mind grimly added).
If she called her parents, they would just freak out, which would be no help whatsoever.
Crying silent trails of tears, Andrea banged her phone against her forehead cursing, ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck.’
Three semi-trucks pulled in along with a Subaru Forester and two motorcycles. The truckers swung down from their doors lighting up cigarettes and yelling back and forth at each other. Their matching insignias indicated some kind of caravan. Andrea watched them mournfully. The Forester resembled a clown car as people kept pouring out of it. Andrea had no idea that they had that many seatbelts. The people stretched and chattered before heading to the toilets and then stretching some more. The motorcyclists stashed their helmets, left one person behind to watch the bikes and headed toward the toilets too.
Andrea felt foolish, but she couldn’t stay here forever and she couldn’t think of whom to call for help. “I hate to bother you…” It was a pathetic start, but Andrea related her story for the Forester full of people and she hoped that she looked just the right side of needy so that she didn’t slip into the immediately dangerous and desperate category that folks instinctively avoided.
*** *** ***
“Have everyone pull over.” Miranda’s voice was a quiet order and it was as serious as a call for execution.
Emily scrambled up the middle of the limousine over people’s feet until she could rap on the privacy screen between the driver and the back. Miranda felt a new tension as she felt the car leave the highway for the uneven lane to the side. What was she going to do? She couldn’t turn the whole convoy around for her hapless assistant, could she? They might all miss their flights? The overages for the airfare upgrades would be steep.
Wanting to scream, Miranda practically dove over Nigel’s lap for the door as she poured herself out onto the darkened highway. Inside they all stared at each other and then at Nigel. He fixed them with a ‘what do you fucking think I know’ glare and then followed her out of the vehicle.
“Miranda?” His voice was gentle and she imagined the look on his face like that of someone approaching a wild animal. “What’s going on?”
Shaking her head, Miranda turned wild eyes on him, “We can’t leave her behind, Nigel.”
Accepting this was no problem, however seeing Miranda pull the whole convoy over for a pow wow was out of his ken. “Just send the production crew back for her then.” Nigel suggested even though he was sensing that this would not be acceptable.
“She’ll think I abandoned her.” Miranda’s words were distraught. Nigel’s eyebrows rose.
Motioning toward the production lead’s approach, Nigel said, “The guys will go get her and let her know. Andrea knows what its like at the end of a shoot when everyone just wants to get underway.”
“But I didn’t notice, Nigel. I didn’t notice that she wasn’t by my side.” Her blue eyes were haunted as they looked at him and Nigel suddenly realized this was about something a whole lot worse than accidentally leaving an assistant behind. Addressing Rick from Production, Nigel found that there were only four of them in the last car with all the equipment. It would be a tight fit, but they could all squeeze in the limo where Nigel and Miranda had been. “Rick, you and the guys need to squeeze into the limo for the rest of the way back. We left something important back at the rest stop.” He motioned for the men to quickly move to the lead vehicle and then told the driver to be on his way. The models hadn’t even peeked out and so he simply addressed the driver through the window telling them to be on their way.
Miranda stood staring at him next to the two-lane highway.
“Come on, let’s go get your girl.” He said as he opened the passenger side of the SUV. It didn’t matter too much if two people and a bunch of equipment and luggage were late for their flights. Besides this way, Miranda could have her break down in peace. Nigel just wondered if Miranda knew what she was doing.
*** *** ***
The family in the Forester had been very sympathetic and made a lot of good suggestions. However Andrea had no way to pay for any of them and they had no room in their car. The truckers had even been drawn into the conversation, but they were settling in for a much longer break and they weren’t heading anywhere near the airport in San Francisco. Ultimately it was the motorcyclists that offered Andrea the only solution they could. The couple on the Triumph Rocket III offered for Andrea to borrow one of their helmets. The other rider on the Triumph Bonneville offered to drop her off at the airport where she could hopefully catch up to her crew.
Wrapped in a borrowed jacket, Andrea cursed her high heels and her flapping skirt as she clung tightly to the man in front of her. She wasn’t sure whether to thank them or curse them for their help. However since she was already 45 minutes behind the others, Andrea figured she better hold on tight and shut the hell up.
Andrea was sure that flying down the highway at 90mph on a motorbike did not feel the same in a car. Additionally she was sure that it was something on a motorbike that folks found pleasing, but she was shaking like a leaf. At first she thought that she was seeing things. Then she was certain that it was a red headed Emily gesticulating as she spoke to a police officer on the side of the road. It took quite the amount of creative communication for Andrea to get her point across, but eventually she was able to get her driver to pull over. Their conversation was brief, but Trevor agreed to wait for her while she checked out what was going on with Emily.
*** *** ***
The silence as Nigel pulled onto the highway, exited at the next exit and turned the car around was simply unbearable. He wasn’t sure if he should ask about what was going through her head, but he knew that he could not simmer in the silence for too much longer. It might crush him and he knew that it was crushing Miranda. Her breathing sounded almost like crying. Leaning forward to look out the windshield better, Nigel shook his head, ‘Nope, no flying pigs.’
They’d have to pass the rest stop in order to approach it from the right direction. “What’s going on Miranda?”
There he’d done it. For better or worse the question had fallen right out of his mouth. He was proud that he had veered away from the obvious, ‘what happened,’ as the fact was Andrea had been left behind. The more pertinent question was why Miranda had decided to demonstrate her master class skills of expressive emotions, specifically hopeless loss and heartbreak. Which for all the romance in Napa, California—still did not make sense to him.
“She’ll think that I left her.” Miranda uttered in this strangely haunted voice that Nigel was sure he had never heard from her before.
Gripping the steering wheel tightly, Nigel looked at the woman in Miranda’s body sitting next to him. “I would never forget her, Nigel.” Miranda swallowed and then grabbed at his arm. It literally scared the bejesus out of him and he swerved on the road, suddenly thankful for the lack of traffic because at least he wasn’t worried about hitting anyone. “I was going to send her away, but I would never forget her.”
Nigel wondered if she was having a stroke. Her sentences seemed like they were pulled from different conversations. Taking his hand off the steering wheel, he held hers against his thigh. It was a little freaky, but he wasn’t sure what his other options were while he steered the SUV with one hand and tried to keep an eye on the road. He thought that they had a few minutes so he’d just take one statement at a time and see if he could decode his long time friend’s nonsense. “You were going to send Andrea away?” He said the words slowly and quietly only turning up the last syllable in the slightest way to make it a question. Maybe if she just absorbed the words, it wouldn’t really be like asking her to explain, but more like a subliminal prompt for her to elaborate.
“I’m too old for her.” Miranda whispered sadly. Nigel’s eyes widened as he realized that his brain game had worked and the silver haired editor was in fact explaining. He wondered what else he could ask her about. “The boss and the beautiful assistant. How very horrible and cliché.” Miranda moaned and then covered her face with her other hand. Nigel found it both comforting and disturbing that she had left her hand on his thigh.
“So you’d rather fire her than be a cliché?” Nigel couldn’t help that this one really did come out as a question. For someone who didn’t give a flying fuck about what the press said as long as her daughters were left out of it, he was appalled that she would have this reaction to herself.
“She’d know why though, wouldn’t she?” Miranda’s fingers pressed until the nails were sure to gouge through the fabric of her trousers and draw blood. “She’d know it was because I wanted her and she’d file a wrongful termination suit based on sexual harassment.”
Nigel wondered if she had had too much wine. Or perhaps not enough, he supposed that she must have been really stressed out to be going on about it so openly and brokenly at this point. “Is that why you didn’t notice she was missing?” Nigel prompted quietly as he swerved off to the right in order to come around on the highway for the rest stop. “You were too worried about how to send her away without her catching on to why you were sending her?”
“Oh, God, Nigel. What have I done?” Miranda turned to face him in the front passenger seat, her eyes full of terrified wonder.
After a few more minutes they had returned to the rest stop. It was largely empty. Three semi-trucks were stretched along the back edge of the space and a couple on a motorcycle seemed to be in no hurry to go anywhere except perhaps each other’s pants. Nigel frowned as he did not see Andrea anywhere in the fluorescent oasis. “You haven’t done anything except consider firing Andrea because you’re in love with her.” Looking back out at the darkness, he added, “It will depend on what you do when we find her.”
Stepping out of the vehicle, Nigel’s hopes were low. Dragging Miranda along by the hand (so she didn’t wander off) he made his way over to the toilets. Pushing Miranda into the ladies, he hissed, “You have to call for her and check all the stalls.” He hovered anxiously near the door as she did so and felt his heart sink when there was no response. He dragged Miranda to the edge of the mens’ toilets and repeated the search on his side, just in case. Slowly they dragged around the area, checking near the dumpster and out in the parking lot before returning to the benches near the SUV.
“You looking for Andy?” The motorcyclist pulled away from his companion to ask. He squinted his eyes at Miranda. “Are you Miranda?” At the woman’s absent nod, he shook his head. “She was awful upset you left her here.” Standing and then offering a hand to his lady friend, the motorcyclist approached them. “Trevor took her to the airport trying to catch up to you, I think.” He scratched his head as he looked at the two city swanks in their nice duds.
“She’s heading toward San Francisco Airport?” Nigel could feel the dread in his voice. He could also feel the grip like death that Miranda had on his fingers. “Right. Let’s go get her.” He tugged Miranda back to the SUV and encouraged her back inside. “At least we know she’s trying to catch up with the crew.” He tried to be cheerful. Pulling out his cell phone he tried to call Emily only to get her voicemail.
*** *** ***
Andrea was nearly arrested for approaching Emily while the officer was still conducting his official business. She finally retreated back to Trevor and the motorbike while the officer finished ticketing the driver and telling Emily to get back in the vehicle. Once he was away, she ran back to the limousine. Emily sprang out of the door ready to pounce. “What are you doing here?” The red head shrieked.
Andrea stopped as the only thing she had wanted to be was be reunited with Miranda and the others and now Emily was doing her best harpy impression. Andrea felt not only left behind which was heartbreaking, but now she felt unwanted to top it off. Narrowing her eyes, Andrea stepped right into Emily’s personal space trapping her against the side of the limousine as the red head stepped backwards. “You all left me behind and that’s how you welcome me back?” Her finger pressed hard into the bony space just below her collarbone.
Emily sucked in a lungful of air and rolled her eyes back so hard that her head leaned back too before she exhaled again. She grabbed Andrea’s finger hard in her own and shoved her backwards by it. “I can’t even begin to understand how you’ve wormed your way in, but Miranda was distraught at the thought of leaving you behind so much so that she was going to bring the whole caravan round to get you.” Her blue eyes burned into Andrea’s brown ones and she shook her hand gripping Andrea’s finger painfully hard. “Instead Nigel went back round with her to get you. We got pulled over for speeding when all we wanted to do was get to the airport.” Emily inhaled again her eyes fluttering like something from a possession film, and she stamped her foot. “You go back to that damn rest stop and find her!”
Andrea blinked her eyes in disbelief. “Miranda…” She started the question uncertainly only to stop as Emily continued to glare at her like a particularly stupid person.
Turning Andrea around to her motorcycle companion, Emily shoved her forward. “She went back for you and you’re not going to be there!” Emily shrieked. “Get going!”
Andrea took two steps toward Trevor and heard as Emily muttered under her breath. Then she turned back around. “My purse. I need my…” She thought about the purse flapping in the breeze like her skirt. “Wallet.” She finished lamely. “Emily, tell him to pop the trunk.” She wasn’t sure if the red head had heard or cared, but soon enough there was a thunk as the trunk lid popped open. Grabbing what she needed, Andrea lowered the zipper of her borrowed biker’s jacket and shoved her wallet in her shirt. It wasn’t ideal, but it would work. “Change in plans.” She smiled at Trevor.
*** *** ***
The SUV was pulling away as Trevor’s bike was pulling in. He must have done some serious speeding, Andrea considered. Although with the anticipation of getting back to Miranda coursing through her veins, Andrea couldn’t say that she noticed the difference.
Punching Trevor on the arm and pointing wildly at the SUV, Andrea got Trevor to blow through the rest stop.
Motioning to the large SUV in the darkness of night on the Napa highway was a whole different story. Her legs getting colder and colder, Andrea wondered if it was so wrong that she wanted Trevor to essentially run Nigel and Miranda off the road. This chasing thing was horrific.
*** *** ***
“What are you doing?” Miranda said as Nigel once again hit the brakes.
“That asshat on the motorbike is determined that I should run he and his girlfriend over.” Nigel growled out.
Miranda leaned forward trying to look at the nuisance Nigel was talking about. All she wanted was to get to the airport and find Andrea. She wondered if she was reaching for the stars? The motorbike looked similar to the one from the rest stop as did the helmet and gear. Wait, gear, Miranda did a double take as she noticed that the woman on the back was in a wildly flying skirt exposing a vast amount of thigh and finely muscled calf. Further she noticed that this passenger had on four inch Jimmy Choos. Even in her distraught state, Miranda’s sense of appropriate wear versus fashion did not escape her. The motorcycle lady they had met a few minutes ago had worn motorcycle pants and sturdy looking boots.
“Nigel, pull over.” Miranda’s hand had returned to his arm and was pulling it to steer the car.
He yanked his arm away from the steering wheel, turning shocked eyes on his partner. “What the hell?” He could just imagine them getting hijacked on the side of the road. It would be the perfect next chapter of this insane evening, he allowed.
“That’s Andrea, Nigel.” He gaped at her and then looked over wondering how in the world with the giant black sphere of helmet, tangle of dark hair dangling behind, and the giant black jacket, Miranda could possibly made an identification, let alone come up with the hypothesis that it was Andrea. He really wanted to help her, but he didn’t want to die this evening either. “Look at those shoes, Nigel.”
Taking another glance, Nigel nodded, took his foot off the gas and steered in the general direction of ‘off the highway.’
*** *** ***
Trevor pulled the motorcycle off the road and pulled into a sharp U-Turn before Andrea could say anything at all. Once he had turned off the engine, Andrea hoped off the bike. She was pulling at the helmet wildly trying to take it off her head. “Slow down,” he scolded. “Don’t want you to ruin, Samantha’s helmet.” He chuckled as he helped her to lift it off of her head. “You’ll need a brush.” He motioned to her hair, then turned as he heard someone’s steps on the asphalt. “You gonna be okay?”
Andrea nodded at him. “Stay until I actually get in, okay? I don’t wanna be stuck here.” Andrea seriously looked into Trevor’s amused face.
“Hey, I’m not gonna miss this.” Trevor joked, “I gotta see how it ends.”
Miranda had wasted no time as Nigel slowed the car to a stop. She had her seatbelt off before he could engage the parking break and was out the door before he could caution her about it being a trick.
Leaving the headlights on, Nigel slipped out of the tall SUV and approached slower than Miranda’s near run. He had to admire her pace in those heels.
“Andrea?” He heard her call out. “Andrea?”
“Miranda!” He was relieved to hear her voice responding and to see her turn around. “Miranda! You came back for me!” Andrea ran to Miranda throwing her arms around her neck. Miranda wanted to assure her, return the embrace, but she was knocked off her feet by the brunette’s intensity. They fell on the ground next to the highway bathed in the yellow light of the headlights as Trevor and Nigel watched amused.
“I was so worried about you that I didn’t realize, Andrea, I didn’t realize you weren’t with me.” Miranda searched Andrea’s face with her eyes. “You’re always with me.” She said quietly as she took in their position and the unspoken knowledge that her affections were returned. “I need you with me, Andrea.”
Andrea really wished that she had yanked off the heavy motorcycle jacket and pulled her wallet out of her shirt. She longed to feel Miranda’s heart beating in its bodily cage in beautiful counterpoint to her own. Her brown eyes staring down into Miranda’s she took in the tone of her words and the language of her body. Andrea needed to be with Miranda as much as Miranda needed her. “I’m with you now.” Andrea murmured as she leaned her head down to let her lips press against Miranda’s. At first Miranda tensed in surprise and then she wrapped her arms around Andrea’s body as she returned the kiss with equal passion.
“Hey, Andy. You look like you’re gonna be alright, girl, but I’m gonna need Samantha’s jacket back.” Trevor couldn’t resist the tease in his voice. He knew he didn’t know the brunette that well or the silver haired woman and the bald guy at all, but he never shied away from helping people or from cracking jokes. Shyly, Andrea clambered back and away from Miranda before offering her a hand up. She stripped out of the motorcycle jacket and returned it to Trevor with her thanks.
Taking Andrea’s hand in her own, Miranda turned to head back to the SUV. Cheeky as ever, Nigel opened the back door for them to crawl inside together. “You’ve gotta say that your first kiss was in the back seat.” He scolded them and then ran around to climb in the driver’s side. “Neither ‘side of the highway’ or ‘rest stop’ are on the betting pool for your first kiss.” Miranda and Andrea’s eyes widened, but neither moved away from the other’s closeness.
The End.
x