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It was your typical day.
Well, Andy’s typical, which was definitely not your normal typical. Far from the normal typical when you work at Runway and she was rambling again even in her thoughts.
She had just fetched Miranda’s coffee (searing hot, as always) from Starbucks and had gotten in the elevator when it happened.
“Ahem.”
Andy looked to her left and dread filled her body.
“I’m so sorry Miranda, I didn’t see you-”
Miranda held up her hand.
Andy immediately shut up.
The elevator door was still open and Miranda hadn’t made a move to shove her out.
Her eyes kept flickering between the elevator and Miranda until the doors shut.
“Do you always look like such a deer in headlights?”
Andy’s head immediately snapped towards Miranda’s direction.
“Sorry,” Andy murmured.
“For God’s sakes,” Miranda said, taking off her sunglasses so she could get a better look at Andy, and the way she was looking into her soul, Andy very much preferred the sunglasses. She gulped.
“Oh, of course,” Miranda said, coming to a realization that Andy did not have the slightest clue of what it could be. She was so lost.
Never ask Miranda any questions .
Suddenly, she heard Miranda begin to speak again.
“I hear what the others say about me,” She said with a humourless chuckle, “It seems even at Runway I cannot escape the monikers Page Six love to use for me.” She gestured at Andy. “Even my own assistants.”
“Miranda I’m-”
“That’s all.”
That had been…weird, to say the least.
She knew, beneath the tough exterior, the tabloids had left a chink in the editor’s armor. She had at least learned that much in Paris. It hadn’t made Andy any less terrified, though. Still, there had seemed to be a shift in their dynamic of sorts since then. Miranda seemed almost.. Softer? No less demanding, obviously, but softer towards Andy.
Don’t get her wrong, she enjoyed this much more pleasant side of Miranda, but why was only she subject to this (special? unique? individual? specific? ) attention. Miranda certainly hadn’t changed her tune with Emily and her and Nigel definitely weren’t quite back on personal speaking terms just yet.
Yes, it was odd, but a good odd nevertheless.
Had she upset Miranda today?
Obviously, she had, but how?
Never ask Miranda any questions.
If only that certain rule hadn’t existed cause she could certainly use some answers right now.
It was about ten o’clock when the Book finally arrived at her desk that night.
“Thanks Evan,” Andy said, grabbing her coat, purse, and of course, the Book.
Evan gave her a small smile and walked out of the outer office.
Roy was waiting outside for her as soon as she walked out of the Elias-Clarke building.
“Early night, huh?” Roy said with a grin when she sat down in the car.
“Yeah, right,” Andy said with a sigh. Roy’s grin disappeared.
“Long day?” He asked. She nodded.
“Something like that. Hey, can you put on the radio? I won’t tell,” She said, a smile creeping on her face.
“Sure, Andy.”
I’m in love with an uptown girl….
Ah, who could be sad when listening to Billy Joel?
Too soon they were pulling in front of the townhouse.
“You can go on ahead, Roy. I’ll take the subway home,” Andy said, stepping out onto the sidewalk.
Roy rolled down his window, tipped his cap, and pulled away.
It’s now or never. Andy used her key and let herself into the townhouse. She tried not to make a sound as she opened up the closet door and put Miranda’s dry cleaning inside.
“It isn’t going to eat you, you know.”
Andy put a hand on her heart and turned around.
“And neither am I,” Miranda finished.
“Miranda, you scared-” Andy started.
“Yes, you always seemed to be scared around me, don’t you?”
Oh. So that’s what this morning had been about. Was it? No shot. But…
“Are you upset that I’m scared of you?” Andy asked.
Forget the rule about asking Miranda questions. She had just stepped into an alternate reality. Rules need not apply.
“Why would I be upset about an assistant being scared of me, hm?”
Oh no. No no no. Code red alert. Looks like it was time for the job search-
“It wouldn’t make any sense would it?” Miranda continued, “No, why would the editor-in-chief of the most successful fashion magazine be upset over an assistant?” The editor walked over to the liquor cabinet, pulling herself a little bit of whiskey. “Why indeed?” Miranda asked, taking a sip.
She was facing away from Andy now and the younger woman could not get a read on her face, but she did notice the deep breath the older woman took before she turned back to Andy.
“But I am,” Miranda admitted.
Andy took a sharp breath.
“But… why?” Andy asked, finally finding her voice (and a window to speak, not that she was about to stop Miranda. Not that she wanted to.)
Miranda sighed, taking another sip. She sat down on the couch and motioned Andy to join her. Yep, she had unknowingly traveled to an alternate reality.
“It seems that since Paris, I’ve… God. Why is this so hard?” Miranda said, running a hand through her hair, “Well, I mean I know why,” Miranda was up off the couch now, pacing as she kept talking, “I mean first off I’m twice your age and you’re my assistant and I can’t believe I’m one of those bosses apparently and I swore to myself I’d never even try to tell you this but then today happened and well-”
She was cut off by Andy grabbing onto her hand.
“Miranda, what’s wrong? Please, tell me.”
“I’ve developed… feelings. Personal feelings unbecoming of a woman in my position. For my second assistant no less.”
Oh… Oh .
Andy’s mind began reeling about a million miles a minute. Miranda had… feelings for her? Romantic feelings? Surely that’s what she meant by ‘personal feelings unbecoming of a woman in her position.’ Why wasn’t she horrified by this? Should she be? Why wasn’t she? She was… happy. Is that the warm feeling she’s feeling in her chest and the smile she can feel on her face? Then it clicks.
It had all been leading to this, hadn’t it?
Harry Potter manuscripts, coffee runs, “You’re going to Paris”, “Everyone wants to be us”, smiling at Miranda no matter how awful she had been that day, defending the woman to Christian Thompson of all people, the fluttery feeling she got when Miranda acknowledged her hard work, and whispered thank yous at benefits when no one else was watching.
Yes, it had all been leading to this.
“I’ll set you up with an excellent reference of course,” Miranda’s voice fading back in.
“What?” Andy asked. Miranda gave her an odd look.
“Were you even listening?” The older woman asked.
“No.”
And then Andy leaned in, and once the initial shock wore off, Miranda instantly returned it.
They pulled away after a few sweet, but far too short, moments.
“Oh,” Miranda said.
“ Oh ,” Andy mimicked with a wide grin.
Miranda rolled her eyes and leaned back in, but Andy held a finger up.
“You know this means, I’ll probably have to quit, right? Not because I don’t want to explore this, it’s just-”
“I know. I understand. It’s for the best, but we’ll make it work.”
“We’ll make it work,” Andy repeated.