Chapter Text
Ransom - Chapter 1
“Where’s Six?”
“Obviously, not here,” Miranda answered Nigel in a good facsimile of her normal tone. He knew her well enough to know, however, that something was wrong.
“Shall I take your notes, then, or is Six going to make an appearance?” Nigel pushed, just a little, to see if whatever was wrong had to do with the erstwhile assistant.
“Take notes, Nigel, that’s all.” Miranda wanted the conversation to end. She couldn’t focus. She was in shock. She left. Being compared to me was the final straw. I’ve been pushing her and pushing her for months and finally, when I thought she had reached the peak of her potential and was ready to be nudged from the nest, she flew away all on her own. She left me to walk alone. Silly old woman, how could I have thought that look in her eyes last night meant anything other than pity.
True to form, like any other Runway employee, Nigel sat quietly and watched Miranda watch the show. He took careful and precise notes on what she thought of each piece as well as detailed descriptions of the clothing, accessories, and models. The only person who could have taken notes as well as Nigel was Andy. Though her notes would have been different, they would have been just as effective.
**A few blocks away**
Oh, my God. What was I thinking? What the hell am I doing? Why would it have been so bad to be compared to Miranda? I respect her. I admire her. She’s a strong, powerful woman at the top of her industry. People will do anything to make her happy and the moment I had the chance to do just that, I took off. I ran away from her. How could I do that to her right now? I know what she’s going through and I treated her just like her loser husband. She was complimenting me for goodness’ sake! I am an idiot. An idiot in a foreign country with no phone. At that, Andrea turned and walked the ten yards back to the fountain, reached in and took her ruined phone out. I won’t be an idiot without a phone for long. There has to be a wireless store around here somewhere. Then I’ll go back, throw myself at her feet, and beg for absolution. Which she’ll never give. I am such an idiot. How am I going to fix this?
Andy looked around for a store that could help her, seeing none she found someone to ask. As soon as she had directions, she practically sprinted. She knew she had less than an hour to get a new phone and get back to the show before Miranda was done and she was determined to do so. In fact, she was more determined than ever to do what she had to for Miranda.
**Back at the show**
Nigel could tell Miranda was distracted throughout the show. Her eyes would check each model before flitting anxiously to each entrance, watching for someone, it seemed. She’ll show up. Andréa is much too professional to abandon me here. Runway, abandon Runway here. She left the magazine, not me. She was only my employee, my assistant. She only worked for me. This pain is just heartburn. I. Am. Fine.
As the last model entered the runway, Miranda suddenly felt her body break out in a cold sweat. She felt absolutely terrified. Her adrenaline shot through the roof and her heart rate skyrocketed. Something was dreadfully wrong.
“Nigel, I have to go,” she said quickly.
“Miranda, the show wasn’t that bad,” he laughed.
“No, Nigel, something’s wrong. I have to go. You stay. Schmooze for me. The show wasn’t that bad; there were some useful pieces. Please, Nigel, I have to go.”
Blown away by the timbre of Miranda’s request and the fact that she had said please, Nigel quickly agreed. “I’ll meet you later, Miranda. No problem.” As the woman started to leave, Nigel briefly touched her arm to stop her. “Miranda, whatever’s going on, I’m sure it will be fine. Nothing to worry about. I’ll come by for drinks later and we’ll talk.” She at least owes me a conversation after her little stunt with James Holt and Jacqueline Follet.
Miranda merely nodded and turned quickly for the door, already dialing her driver as she stepped outside. She saw the car pull up as she heard her name fall from lips she thought she’d never see again.
“Andréa,” Miranda breathed, still feeling the suffocating sense of dread.
Surprising them both, Andy stepped forward and hugged Miranda tightly. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, “it’ll never, ever happen again.” Miranda felt tears in her sunglass shielded eyes and held them back through sheer power of will alone. Just as Andy was going to release the stiff-backed woman in her arms, Miranda reached around the taller woman’s waist. Her palms pressed into the lengthy spine of the younger woman, bringing their bodies into full contact. Andy felt a shudder go through the smaller body. “Miranda,” she prayed, “Miranda.”
Miranda sniffed gently and stepped back from her assistant. Without waiting for someone to do it for her, Miranda hurriedly opened the car door and gestured for Andréa to climb in ahead of her.
Once the door was securely closed, Miranda ordered the driver back to their hotel.
“Your schedule, Miranda?” Andy asked.
“Something’s wrong, Andréa. I don’t know what but something’s wrong. I thought,” Miranda uncharacteristically stumbled over her words, “I thought, maybe, that it was you. You’re here, though. You came back and something is still wrong.”
“Miranda, what are you talking about? What do you mean something’s wrong?” Andy was confused.
“I don’t know, Andréa!” Miranda practically shouted, “I just know something is wrong. I have this, this feeling. My heart is pounding. My skin is clammy. I thought I was having a panic attack but it’s different.”
Andy took a risk and reached toward her boss, grasping her hand. “We’ll figure it out, don’t worry. Maybe you just thought I messed up your schedule?”
Miranda turned her face to the younger woman and whipped the glasses right off, “I will not be patronized. Something. Is. Wrong.”
“Okay, okay, I believe you. Should I,” Andy paused, “I don’t want to upset you but should I call the girls?”
“Yes, let’s call them. You call Cassidy and I’ll call Caroline. Just to make sure they’re fine, you know,” Miranda was trying to convince herself.
The women pulled out their phones and, taking deep breaths, were about to call the girls when Miranda stopped them.
“I’m going to call Stephen first. No need to unnecessarily alert the girls; they’re at school still, I think.”
“Would you rather I call him, Miranda? I don’t mind,” Andy offered.
Miranda was about to snap at the young woman for her gall when she looked at Andy’s face and realized that the brown-eyed girl was truly trying to help and support her.
“No need, Andréa, I’ll call him. I believe he still lives at my townhouse, though he spends so little time there it is hard to tell. He is supposed to be looking after my children while I’m here,” Miranda scrolled through her contacts looking for her soon-to-be ex-husband’s information.
The white-haired woman put the phone up to her ear while the fingers of her left hand twitched nervously on her lap. Andy steeled herself for rejection and reached over to entwine the fingers of her right hand with Miranda's left. Her heart skipped a beat when she felt Miranda grip her hand in return. Maybe she really is forgiving me for taking off. After all, I did come right back. And I do love her. Not that she knows that. I’ll just stay here, at Runway, by her side. I’ll show her every day how loyal I can be and eventually she’ll see she just can’t be without me. She’s already holding my hand and she did hug me back.
“Stephen, it’s Miranda...I’m sure you’re very busy...Yes, thank you for interrupting your meeting to speak with me...No, I just...but...Dammit, Stephen, I am allowed to call to check up on my children. You know, those two little humans that look so alike you can’t tell them apart? How are they doing?...No, they’re not going to their father’s today...They’re supposed to be going directly home after school today...From whom?...Their driver shouldn’t be sending you messages about them...Please, Stephen, hold on for just a moment...Please, these are my babies we’re talking about, just hold on for a moment...Thank you,” Miranda pulled the phone away from her ear and turned toward Andy, “I didn’t approve a change in the girl’s schedule this week, did you?”
“No, Miranda,” Andy was already rifling through her calendar, “Well, kind of, I have in here that the girls had soccer and piano yesterday, nothing today and they’re not doing their riding lessons tomorrow and dance classes the next day were cancelled because of testing at school. I actually have written down that they are not to have any extra activities this week so that they can get enough sleep to do well on the tests. I don’t know what this is about.” Andy was starting to get worried, too.
“Stephen says he got a text from their driver that he would be taking them to their father’s house in the Hamptons today and they would stay there for the rest of the week. He claims he questioned the driver and was told it was approved by my, and I quote, ‘fucking assistant’ earlier this week,” Miranda said quickly.
“Well, not by me, Miranda. I would never do something like that without you telling me to. I’m calling Emily,” Andy defended. The British assistant’s phone was already ringing in Andy’s ear.
Miranda returned to her call with Stephen. “Stephen, I know you don’t want this to be your problem but something’s wrong. I never agreed to send the girls to their father’s, they have testing at school this week...That’s right, Dalton Mids...I’m going to call James and see if he did this without my approval...I doubt it, too, which means this is terrible...Okay, I’ll call you after I talk to James...Thank you, I’ll call you right back,” Miranda hung up.
She turned to Andy to listen to her side of the conversation with Emily. “I didn’t think you would, Emily, and neither did Miranda but we had to check. Do not say anything about this to anyone. Start quietly arranging for a flight home for Miranda and myself as soon as possible...No, I don’t have to ask her for approval, I know what to do...Emily, just do it!”
Miranda reached over and took the phone from Andy’s hand, “Emily, just do what Andréa says. Assume any orders from her come from me. That’s all.” Miranda hung that call up, too.
Andy blinked blankly before getting back to the matter at hand, “Call James, Miranda. I’m going to text Cass and Caro and ask exactly where they are.”
At that precise moment, Andy’s phone beeped with a text from Cassidy Priestly. Andy was momentarily relieved...until she read it.
Wats wit nu driver? Tell us nxt time! We almost didnt get in r car
Andy gasped and grabbed Miranda’s hand in panic, “Shit, Miranda! Shit!” Andy quickly texted back:
Get out of car. Now. Lie, say anything, just get out of the car with your sister.
“What? What is it!”
“The girls don’t have a new driver do they?”
“Of course, not! They’ve had the same driver since Pre-K. He loves them, he buys them birthday and Christmas gifts,” Miranda was nearing hysteria.
Andy leaned forward and instructed their driver to divert to the American Embassy immediately.
Miranda was hyperventilating. She was stuck in a car in a foreign country while her girls, her babies, were in a car with a stranger on a different continent. This is my fault. I never should have come to Paris. If I weren’t so damn focused on this stupid magazine I would have been home with my children instead of being in France while they’re being, “Kidnapped. Andréa, my babies are being kidnapped.”
“No, Miranda, we won’t let that happen. I’m going to call James. You just breathe. Slowly. Listen, Miranda, I’m going to call him from your phone so that I can get any texts from Cass right away, okay?”
When Miranda nodded, Andy reached over and took the phone from her lap. She quickly found James’ information and was waiting for him to answer her call. He didn’t pick up and ANdy had to leave a voicemail, “Hello, James, this is Miranda’s assistant, Andy, um, Andréa. There’s an emergency with the girls and you need to call us back immediately. We’re heading to the American Embassy in France right now to try to get a flight home as soon as possible. Call us back.”
Andy disconnected and was about to call Nigel when she felt something wet on her hand. She looked over to see tears streaming down Miranda’s face. She tried to let go of Miranda’s hand to wrap her arm around the smaller woman but Miranda wouldn’t let go. Andy instead lifted her arm around Miranda with their hands still attached. “We’ll stop this, Miranda. We will not let anyone do anything to hurt your babies. You and I are a great team and we can fix this. You have to believe that, Miranda. You have to,” Andy whispered into Miranda’s ear as she tucked the woman into her side.
When she didn’t get an answer, Andy went back to Miranda’s phone and called Nigel.
“Well, what’s wrong?”
“Nigel, it’s Andy. I need you to-”
“Ugh, where were you, Six!? I had to take notes for you! That’s your job, you know,” Nigel interrupted.
“Nige, shut up. We have an emergency and we need you to go back to the hotel and pack all of our belongings and bring them to us at the American Embassy. Do not say anything to anyone. Just do it right away. As fast as you possibly can.”
“Six, what’s going on? Miranda ran out of that show like her hair was on fire and now you’re calling with an emergency. What’s up?” He demanded.
“I really can’t tell you on the phone and I don’t think we’re ready to talk about it until we’re more sure of what we’re dealing with. Please, Nigel, we’re running out of time. Just please go back and pack our bags,” Andy begged.
“Okay, okay, but when I get to the Embassy, I expect an answer.”
“Fine. Bye.” Andy hung up.
Nigel did as he was asked and headed swiftly back across the city to pack for the women. And what’s with all the “we have” and “we need”? Since when are they a we?
**In Manhattan**
“Can we stop for frozen yogurt?” Cass asked the driver.
“No.”
“But we always stop for frozen yogurt during Dalton Mids. It’s like a ritual.”
“Yes, it’s a tradition,” Caroline joined in having seen the text from Andy.
“No.”
“Come on. It’s on our way home. Which is totally not this way! Are you lost?”
“No. You’re not going home. I’m taking you to your father’s house for the week. Stephen doesn’t want to watch you anymore.”
**At the American Embassy in France**
“Did you tell the children to call 911?”
“No,” Miranda answered, flustered, “I didn’t even think of it. I should have told them that.”
Andy jumped in, “I didn’t want the driver - who we don’t know - to realize they had cell phones and take them away. Can we call the NYPD from here?”
The Ambassador’s assistant with whom they were speaking clearly though the women were either stupid or lying.
“Oh, yes, heaven forbid they lose their cell phones.”
Miranda couldn’t even respond. She was so scared for her girls, she could not yet muster up the anger to put the snarky young man in his place.
Andy could, though. She slapped her hands down loudly on his desk, “Listen up you rude, little imbecile! There are two eleven year old girls in the back seat of a stranger’s car on their way to God only knows where. The only way we can keep track of them now is the GPS in their cell phones. Now, either let the Ambassador know we need help immediately, or call the NYPD yourself and explain what’s going on. If you don’t do something right this second, I will not be held responsible for my actions!”
“Fine,” the smarmy, little man answered, “I’ll let the Ambassador know he has visitors.”
After he left the room, Miranda spoke, “This is taking too long, Andréa. The girls need help now!” Miranda was standing, facing her assistant.
“I know, I’m sorry. I’m trying, Miranda,” Andy placed her hand gently on Miranda’s forearm. “I’m going to text Cass again and get an exact location. I’ll tell her to make sure Caro keeps her phone hidden, okay?”
Miranda nodded, her eyes unfocussed and her skin paler than usual.
She’s going into shock.
Andy sent a text; Did you get out of the car? I need to know where you are, Cassidy. And Caro MUST keep her phone hidden.
As she waited for a response, Andy put her arm around Miranda and led her to a small couch tucked into the side of the office. Andy grabbed a few tissues on the way knowing Miranda’s tears were going to start again.
“Sit here with me, sweetie,” Andy said without thinking as she sat on the couch and gently pulled the older woman down next to her. Miranda felt so small in Andy’s arms, the taller woman pulled her in even tighter. “They’ll be okay. We’ll make sure of it. Whatever it takes, they will be okay,” Andy whispered.
**In Manhattan**
Cassidy felt her phone buzz when Andy’s message came through. Waiting a moment to check it, she answered the new driver, “I know Stephen’s busy but we’ll be good; we have Dalton Mids this week and we can’t just go to Daddy’s.”
“You are. He’s waiting for you.”
“Which house?” If we’re really going to Dad’s, we should just be going to Queens, but I’m pretty sure we’re in the Bronx right now.
“The house in the Hamptons. Now sit quietly, I will not be answering any more of your questions.”
Cass answered Andy’s text; Andy! Help! We cant get out of the car. Driver sez we r goin to the hampton hous but i think we r in the brnx i just saw a sign for the tz bridge. Wat shud we do??? Caros phone hidden.
Cass reached over and laced her fingers through her sister’s. They looked at each other, silently agreeing to stick together no matter what.
**In France**
Andy realized she could use her new phone to look up the number for the NYPD herself and did so right away.
“Miranda, I’m going to call the police back home, okay? Cass thinks they’re headed north west to the Tappan Zee. I don’t know anything about the car they’re in, though. Can you text Cass and ask her about it?”
Miranda didn’t answer, she just sat there, tucked into Andy’s side. I remember the day I found out I was going to have them. I thought it was a stomach flu and only went to the doctor when I realized my period was late.
“Mrs. Priestly, is there anyone you’d like to call to be here with you?”
“My name is Miranda and I am fine on my own. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Dr. Sumner answered with a smile, “I just thought you might want your husband here with you to find out you're pregnant. Congratulations!”
“I’m what?”
I thought I was going to faint that day. How could I be pregnant? “I wasn’t the Devil in Prada yet, but I was well on my way. I just didn’t know how I could be pregnant and do my job. I was petrified.” Miranda didn’t realize she spoke out loud until she saw Andréa looking at her out of the corner of her eye.
“I think everyone who finds out they’re going to have children is petrified,” Andy said before turning to look into Miranda’s eyes. “Now, listen, Miranda, I need you to text Cassidy and ask her what kind of car they’re in. Okay, swee- err, okay, Miranda?”
The older woman nodded her agreement and sent the text to her daughter right away. “Andréa?”
“Hmm?” Andy answered quietly, waiting for her cell phone to connect her to the NYPD.
“This is taking too long, we should find another way home. I’m going to call Donnatella,” Miranda sounded a bit stronger. Her phone flashed in her hand and she looked down to see Cass had responded.
We’re in our car, Mom. Why did you fire Max?
“What on Earth is going on?”
“What, Miranda? What is it?”
“They’re in their car. I mean, the one Maximiliano always uses to drive them. This doesn’t make sense. Why would a stranger have one of my own cars? How did he get it?”
“Yes, I need to report a kidnapping...I’m in France but the kidnapping is occurring in Manhattan right now...No, this is not a prank call...please, listen to me. My name is Andréa Sachs and I am Miranda Priestly’s assistant at Runway. We just received a text message from her eleven year old daughters that they’ve been picked up from school by a man who they thought was a new driver but Miranda didn’t hire a new driver. They’re supposed to be...what?...you’re putting me on hold?!”
“That put you on hold? My girls are being kidnapped and they put you on hold!”
Just then, the Ambassador’s assistant came back out and motioned them over. They quickly went across the room, Andy’s phone still against her ear.
She angled the mouthpiece away from her lips and spoke to Miranda, “Listen to me, Miranda. I need you to talk the Ambassador into calling the FBI about this. We need to get home now and you need to make it happen. Turn off the scared mom. Turn on the powerful Editor-in-Chief. Be the Ice Queen, the Devil in Prada. Do it. I can’t hang up with the NYPD in case they can get the care so keep it together and make it happen.” Please forgive me for talking to you like this. I’ll explain when we get the girls back. I’m screwed anyway, what’s one more mistake. I need you pissed off Miranda. I need that ice in your eyes that freezes everyone who looks at you. And there it is.
“I know what I need to do for my daughters, Andréa,” Miranda ground out with barely restrained fury.
The phone on the desk rang then and the assistant answered it quickly, “Yes? Let him in after you scan all the bags and show him to my office to wait. The Ambassador is going to see the women now and, probably, find them a way home.” He hung up and motioned them through the door behind him.
“Ms. Priestly, this is very unusual. You’ve never paid a visit to the Embassy on your previous trips to Paris,” Ambassador Stapleton said holding the door to his office open.
“My daughters have never been kidnapped during my previous trips to Paris, Ambassador. I need your help. I know what car they’re in and one of my girls thinks they are headed to upstate New York or Connecticut from the City. Now, do you have the FBI on the phone yet?”
“FBI? Whatever for? Your daughters are probably playing a trick on you. I’m sure you know children like to play pranks to get the attention of their parents and that’s probably what’s happened here,” Stapleton said.
“Do not dare to condescend to me about what children do and do not do to their parents. These are my daughters and I have ample reason to believe they have been kidnapped. Now, call the FBI and get us home to the girls. If you are unable to do that, at least tell us immediately so we can do it ourselves.”
The Ambassador stood staring at Miranda. He did not want to be the fool who didn’t believe her if it turned out to be true but he also did not want to be tricked by a pair of spoiled eleven year olds. Weighing his options carefully, he decided it was better to be the fool who erred on the side of caution and was opening his mouth to agree to Miranda’s demands when he realized both women were speaking into their cell phones. Hearing the younger woman use the phrase Amber Alert, he focused on her conversation.
“Yes, a black Mercedes...yes, that’s the license plate...the custody arrangement between the parents is such that they should be at their mother’s residence this week and their father does not have the legal right to alter that agreement...I don’t know, I just know he hasn’t called us back yet and he is aware that we are in Paris...We will be home as soon as we can get a flight. Their stepfather, Stephen Tomlinson, has legal guardianship of them until Miranda Priestly arrives back in the country...James Harper is their father, yes.” At a frantic wave from Miranda, Andy asked the detective she was speaking with to hold.
“Donnatella has her private jet waiting for us at de Gaulle. The pilot is clearing a flight plan to JFK, LaGuardia, or Newark as quickly as possible and we will probably be able to leave right away when we get there. Have they put out an Amber Alert?”
“They have, I’ll let them know we’re on our way. Good thinking, Miranda,” Andy smiled a small, sad grin at her. I should have thought of that before, then we wouldn’t have wasted all this time here. Andy went back to her phone conversation, “we have a private jet waiting for us at deGaulle. We’ll be back in about eight or nine hours...thank you, I hope so, too.”
“You said they put out an Amber Alert, right?”
“They did, Miranda. They have officers everywhere looking. They’ve slowed traffic on the Tappan Zee to one lane so, if they try to cross, they’ll be spotted for sure. They’re in touch with Stephen, he’s heading to the townhouse which they’re going to use as headquarters.”
“Headquarters? The townhouse? I don’t under-oh, my, God,” Miranda gasped, covering her mouth with her free hand.
“Let’s go, Miranda. The car’s outside and we need to get to the airport. Nigel’s brought our bags, let’s get out of here.”
“They think there will be a ransom call, don’t they? That’s why they’re all going to my house; to wait for the call. I’m not there. There’s going to be a call that could save my daughters and I won’t be there to answer it.”
Andy reached over and put her arm around Miranda’s waist, guiding her gently back to the door, not acknowledging the Ambassador at all. He hadn’t spoken in minutes and the women were too concerned with getting home to worry about him.
He called out a belated good luck as they left his office and he picked up the phone to reach out to his best FBI contact.