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Chapter Text

In the Depot (Peggy Lee - Waiting for the Train to Come In)

Miranda had never done this before, but there was a first time for everything. Roy had been extremely hesitant to let her use the car, but Miranda had insisted, and she promised her insurance was up to date and her license current. It was an argument she hadn’t expected, but at least he was as responsible and fastidious about his work vehicle as he ought to be. It would be worth the trouble, no matter how much of a pain in the ass the traffic was in and around JFK. The flight would arrive after midnight, so it wouldn’t take that long to get through the tunnel.

After arriving, she parked in the lot he’d specified, gratefully appreciating the brand new backup camera as she maneuvered into the spot. Then she turned on the radio and settled in for the wait.

Less than thirty minutes later, the burner phone beeped with a notification. “I’ve landed. Meet you at arrivals in Terminal 1.” With a grin, Miranda grabbed the hat from the passenger seat, as well as the sign that Caroline and Cassidy had very carefully designed to look as unprofessional as possible.

The walk was shorter than she’d expected, and although it was ridiculous, she felt the excitement at seeing Andrea again course through her. It had been a very long 23 days. Once inside the terminal, she found her way to the arrivals at the bottom of the escalators. There she stood among quite a few other black car drivers, none of whom looked in her direction. She pulled her black jacket taut and put on her most bland façade as she waited. Her hair was carefully tucked into her hat.

The arrivals were just a trickle at first, with some obviously wealthy individuals appearing first, recognizing their names on the signs held by the anonymous drivers. She actually recognized socialite and acquaintance Letitia Vasquez as she descended the stairs, and although she scanned directly over Miranda, there was not a shred of recognition in her eyes. Then again, Miranda probably would have done the same thing.

The flood began as more people headed downstairs. She thought perhaps a second flight had landed and she was relieved to be holding her sign. There was no way Andrea would miss it.

Finally, she spotted Andrea, whose long hair was barely contained in a ponytail. She looked like she hadn’t slept a wink. A month ago, Miranda had gently suggested a prescription for the international flights in both directions, but Andrea had a misguided belief that she shouldn’t take sleep drugs even if ultimately they provided much needed rest. She held her sign across her chest and waited less than patiently.

When Andrea got to the bottom of the steps, those dark eyes moved across the many other signs in the area before settling on the one Miranda held. A little line between her eyebrows formed as she tilted her head. When she lifted her gaze to Miranda’s face, her expression of surprised delight was worth every moment of planning and annoyance, however brief, Miranda had experienced.

Andrea was teary and smiling when she threw herself into Miranda’s arms. “Oh my gosh, sweetie,” she said. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you as well,” Miranda said, relieved to be holding her beloved. She kissed her neck, her hair, her cheek, and finally, her lips. They hugged once more before separating.

“I really like my sign,” Andrea said. “Did the kids make it?”

Miranda glanced down at the words ANDY SACHS | AWESOME REPORTER, which were not-so-elegantly flanked by a series of flowers, rainbows, and stars. “With my art direction.”

Andrea laughed. “I want to frame it for my office.”

“Whatever you like, darling.”

Chapter Text

Call of the Living (Loneliness - Annie Lennox)

Lily stood on the street corner, the broken umbrella above her head doing little to keep the rain from blowing into her face or soaking through her already damp high-tops. She didn’t feel it, though, distracted by what she saw through the slightly foggy display window of a book store. One of the books featured in the display seemed like a huge red flag, just another of the many signals she’d been receiving from the universe that she needed to do something she’d been resisting for almost two years.

A few copies of “Oceans Deep,” by Andy Sachs, leaned against a display easel with “NEW RELEASE” stickers on the covers. Although surrounded by piles of other books, the stack was clearly highlighted as a central attraction. Lily felt that familiar stab of betrayal for a few moments before she shook her head. Andy hadn’t really betrayed her. The only things she was guilty of were falling in love with someone new and moving on to a different life. That it hadn’t worked out between Andy and Nate was irrelevant. That the “someone new” was a woman who had ostensibly tormented Andy in the workplace for eight months was also irrelevant. Andy apparently loved her, and if every picture told a story, Miranda loved her back. There had certainly been enough photos from last month’s Fashion Week, with the two of them breezing around the city, holding hands and smiling goofily at each other. Well, Andy had smiled goofily. Miranda just looked smug, having bagged a partner younger and prettier than the one her ex-husband was publicly cavorting with in the Maldives.

Lily had taken for granted that Andy had been by her side through so many hard times, and good times, and scary times. Not having her to talk to now, during the worst thing she’d ever experienced, was wearing on her. Sure, she had friends at the gallery, and from the restaurant on her block where she hung out a few times a week, plus acquaintances from the gym and the coffee shop and the shelter she volunteered at every month. She had Doug. She had Nate, sometimes, when he called, or when she did. There were even a few people from her night classes at the Art Students League.

But she missed Andy.

The sicker her mom got, the more Lily had the urge to reach out. Things were looking worse and worse back home. She might have to take a leave of absence from work. And in the coming months, she might have to do a lot more things that she was absolutely not ready for. She would have to apologize, have to explain why she’d frozen out a friend of almost ten years. But Lily had come to recognize that the harder things got, the more she wanted to talk with the only person who had always been there for her in the past.

She squeezed her eyes shut against the overwhelming grief about something that hadn’t even happened yet. Her phone was in her pocket. Without thinking more about it, she moved beneath the awning of the book store, where she could close her umbrella and still stay dry. She scrolled down to the bottom of her speed dial, where she’d relegated Andy’s number, angry but still unwilling to cut her entirely out of the list. With a deep breath, she dialed.

The phone was only in the middle of the first ring when Andy picked up. “Lily?”

Lily started crying. She covered her mouth, unable to speak for a few seconds. “Andy,” she said, her voice almost a croak. “Hi.”

“Are you okay?” Andy said frantically. “Where are you?”

“I’m okay,” Lily said, sniffling, embarrassed when two people leaving the bookstore caught sight of her, their eyes widening in surprise. The little bell above the door jingled as it swung closed. She ignored it all, turning away to stare out into the rainy street. “I, um, I know it’s been a while, but I wanted to talk to you. If you have a minute.” She fished a tissue from her pocket and wiped her nose.

There was a long pause. “I’m here, Lily,” Andy said, and the sound of her voice was warm and open. “I’m always here for you. Whatever you need.”

Chapter Text

A More Perfect Fall (Be Still My Heart - The Postal Service) (yes, the Postal Service, again)

From the kitchen, Miranda heard the front door close. She took a huge breath and stared down at the empty coffee mug in the sink. There was a faint pink lipstick mark around the rim, left behind by a mouth that had traveled the length of her body and back last night, and again this morning. Miranda touched her lips and wondered what the hell she had been thinking.

She filled the dishwasher with the remnants of their dinner and dessert plates, assorted glasses, and the mugs and bowls from the morning’s breakfast. The empty wine bottle went into the recycling bin, and she couldn’t help but smile at it when she thought about how warm she’d felt when Andrea had first kissed her in front of the open refrigerator, the combined tastes of the Pinot noir and chocolate mousse still on her tongue.

Glancing at the clock on the microwave, she noted the time and sent a text to her second assistant to change the delivery of her coffee order to 30 minutes later than usual and to move everything else accordingly. Her morning routine was completely out of sorts, but she couldn’t regret it. She felt new and fresh and alive in a way she hadn’t in ages. She poured herself some water and was heading for the stairs when the doorbell rang.

Frowning, she pivoted and went to the door, peeking through the peephole to see Andrea there, looking sheepish. Miranda opened the door wide despite the fact that she was in a robe and wore exactly no makeup except the faint stain of pink Andrea had left behind on her lips before she departed.

“Andrea?” she asked, concerned. “Did you forget something?”

Andrea stuck a hand into her hair, ruffling it into an even messier style than it had been. “Only my coordination. I ah, I tripped over a curb on my way to the subway and scraped my knee. Could I get a couple of Band-Aids and an ice pack?”

Miranda glanced down and noticed the tear in her trousers, and the way Andrea was favoring her right leg. “Come on,” she said, holding out an arm and welcoming Andrea’s weight against her body as she leaned in. Briefly she recalled the stories she’d heard in the past of Andrea’s clumsiness. Nigel once told her she fell down on an almost weekly basis when she’d worked at Runway. At the time, Miranda had chalked it up to her unsteadiness in heels, but she glanced down at Andrea’s well-worn Vans and sighed.

She was probably going to have to get used to this.

She settled Andrea on the sofa and removed her shoe before gently lifting her leg onto the coffee table. When she looked up, she realized Andrea was staring at her, awestruck.

“What is it? Does it hurt very badly?”

But Andrea just smiled, lips curving into a silly grin. “It doesn’t hurt so much, now.”

Miranda rolled her eyes, but leaned over and kissed her.

Chapter Text

Bliss Patrol (Groove Armada - The Groove is On)

Miranda checked her watch for the third time. She knew it was late and it was Saturday, but she still hadn’t been able to resist calling Andrea to come to the townhouse to help her pack her things and review the schedules before her quick trip to New Mexico for a cover reshoot. The glass of port she’d had after dinner with her divorce lawyer (a celebratory event of signing the papers) had probably been a mistake. And Andrea was just under a week away from leaving her employ, having secured a senior position at The Cut, a spot she was happy to take since Christian Thompson had left New York for TimeOut.

But she still worked for Miranda, didn’t she? And Miranda often liked help when preparing for travel, but a two day excursion with no public appearances was a far cry from the assistance she usually needed when heading abroad for one Fashion Week or another. The longer she sat here waiting, the more foolish she felt for having made the call in the first place.

Oh well. What was done was done. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, her mind inevitably drawn to the thought of what Andrea might be wearing when she arrived. Her thoughts wandered to Andrea’s hair, how over these last months it swung low against her back. She had such striking hair, so full and rich. Her bangs had grown out into long layers that Miranda… admired. That was it, wasn’t it? Just admiration of a woman for another. Nothing more.

There it was - the sound of a key in the front door lock. Yes, Andrea would appear momentarily and they would work on gathering her things for fifteen minutes, perhaps half an hour, and then they’d talk a bit before she sent Andrea on her way. It was only half past nine; surely Andrea would be able to return to her evening plans following this brief interruption.

Strangely, it took longer than usual for Andrea to make her appearance. The key rattling in the lock seemed to take ages, turning back and forth repeatedly before the door opened. She heard Andrea call out her name from the entryway before she beckoned her into the study.

When Andrea appeared, Miranda’s eyes widened. From a few yards away, the combined scents of what seemed like men’s cologne with undercurrents of weed and sweat wafted toward her. Andrea wore dark leather pants, motorcycle boots, and an inky, sleeveless top. The material changed color depending on the angle, and its high wraparound collar appeared to indicate there was no back whatsoever. It went without saying that she wore no bra.

“Hi, Miranda. How are you?” Andrea said, her smile dreamy and soft. It was a smile Miranda had not seen on her face in the more than two years they’d known one another. Her eyes looked strangely darker than usual.

“I’m… well.” The fragrance in the air was doing something odd to Miranda’s brain. Her tongue seemed to swell in her mouth. “I interrupted your night. Why didn’t you say something?”

Andrea licked her lips as though she were in the process of tasting something particularly delicious. “It’s not a big deal. I was just, uh, celebrating with some friends. About my new job, you know. We went dancing.”

“Ah,” Miranda said, almost but not quite regretting bringing her here. “Had you been out long?”

Andrea blinked slowly. “I don’t actually know.” She laughed, then dropped her chin and gazed directly into Miranda’s eyes. She looked completely zoned out, and only then did Miranda realize her pupils were enormous. That was the difference; her eyes were normally brown, but tonight they appeared almost black. “Maybe an hour or two? Doesn’t matter. I’d rather be here. With you.”

Miranda’s heart rate tripled in the space of five seconds. “Are you feeling all right?”

“Sure. I’m really good.” She licked her lips again.”Incredible, if you want the truth. Better than I have been in a long time.”

Miranda felt a pang of disappointment. Was it because she was on to bigger and better? Happy to be leaving Miranda for greener pastures? “Since you’re leaving Runway, you mean.”

Andrea laughed. “Well, a little. I’m not sad to be leaving Runway. But you know, just because I’m off to someplace new doesn’t mean I’m leaving you.” Miranda felt all the blood in her body rush to her face. Andrea had definitely never looked at her this way before. In that moment, she was pierced by an expression so filled with lust she had to bite her lower lip to keep her mouth from falling open. “Unless that’s what you want.”

“What I want,” Miranda repeated, unsure when she’d lost the thread of the conversation.

Andrea moved forward and sat on the footstool a couple of feet in front of Miranda. She actually stepped over it and slowly descended in a plié before settling comfortably. She leaned one elbow on her knee and peered at Miranda. “I’m sorry if I seem off tonight. I’m uh, a little enhanced, I guess you could say. I don’t usually indulge but this was a special occasion.”

Enhanced, Miranda thought. That was certainly a polite way of saying high. Miranda was tempted to ask exactly what was responsible for this state of mind. Observing the enormous pupils, she thought perhaps ecstasy. Miranda had done her share of recreational drugs over the past thirty years; a bit of pot, a bit more coke, a handful of quaaludes during the height of their popularity, but never ecstasy. Perhaps at one point she might rectify that, if this was the result. “You look like you’re enjoying yourself.”

Andrea blinked slowly at her, looking for all the world like someone who would very much like to exchange her seat for one in Miranda’s lap. “Oh yeah. I am super relaxed.”

Miranda found herself leaning forward, as did Andrea, before she caught herself. She was tipsy but not drunk. And despite whatever was going on between them, Andrea was incapacitated. Assuming this… thing… was more than a momentary blip fueled by MDMA and wine, it could wait. Because Miranda was still a workplace supervisor who had summoned a subordinate to her home for no reason at all other than the fact that her divorce was final and she wanted to spend time with her current favorite person.

Coming to her senses, she leaned back with a head-clearing breath. “I should not have contacted you during your off hours, Andrea. Sincerely. You may go.”

At that, Andrea’s face fell in exaggerated disappointment. “I may?”

Miranda knew then that this was the right decision. She was relieved she had not had another glass of wine when she’d gotten home. “Mm. You should be with your friends tonight.”

“Oh,” Andrea said, the corners of her mouth turning down. She sighed, and the sound she made was almost a whimper.

“Your last day is this Friday, correct?” Miranda asked as a distraction.

“Yeah,” Andrea replied sadly.

“Well, let’s just put a pin in this conversation until then.”

There was a long moment until Andrea began to comprehend Miranda’s words. “You mean, um, we can --” Her eyelashes fluttered as understanding set in. “So you don’t actually need anything… right this minute.”

Miranda nodded. “Nothing urgent,” she said, only mildly embarrassed at admitting that the reason behind her request had been a sham. “I apologize.” The words slipped out before Miranda could stop them; she could not recall the last time she’d apologized to anyone other than her daughters.

Andrea’s hands became fists at her side. She was clearly resisting the urge to do something that no doubt would have resulted in Miranda’s complete surrender. “No problem. No problem at all,” she repeated, bobbing her head to a silent rhythm.

“Well, then.” Miranda inched further away against the back of the sofa. “That’s all for now.”

“I--sure. Right. For now.” Andrea herself moved backwards on the footstool, putting hands to her cheeks for a moment. “I can be on my way then. But, um, can I ask you one thing?”

Miranda replied, “Of course.”

“Is your divorce final?”

Miranda focused on Andrea’s eager expression. She bit her lip gently again, and watched Andrea’s eyes drawn to the movement. “Why yes, in fact. Just tonight.”

Andrea swallowed and stood, slightly unsteady but adept enough to move backward a few steps without losing her balance. “Great. Wow. That’s great.”

“It is very good news.”

“Okay then. I’ll just, you know, be on my way then. And we can chat next week. I mean obviously I’ll see you when you’re back from Taos. But this part, we can, um, talk over later. Like on the weekend. If you’re available. Or whatever.”

It had been a long time since Andrea hadn’t been able to form a coherent sentence in Miranda's presence. Miranda stood and moved forward as Andrea continued backing away, despite the fact that it looked like she wanted to do the opposite. “I will make the time for you, Andrea.”

Then Andrea paused, allowing Miranda to catch up to her until they were only a foot apart. The air was electric. Every cell of her body was on high alert, completely attuned to Andrea’s energy. “I will really, really look forward to that, Miranda.”

Miranda nodded, rubbing her hands absentmindedly along her thighs.

The tension was only broken by the buzz of a phone set to vibrate. Andrea jumped slightly before pulling the small device from her back pocket. She flipped it open and read a text. “It’s my friend, Doug, checking in on me. He’s my designated non-driver tonight.”

“Very responsible.” It was certainly more responsible than Miranda had ever been before she had her girls.

“Let me just--” She tapped out a few words before snapping the phone shut. “I’m meeting him. I think I have to go, um, dance off some energy.”

“That sounds appropriate. I can imagine doing the same,” Miranda said, although dancing would have little to do with the way Miranda intended working off this feeling tonight.

Andrea’s smile seemed to unfurl in slow motion before Miranda's eyes. “I’d like to see that.”

With that, Andrea turned and sauntered to the door, allowing Miranda to admire the long stretch and sinew of her exposed back. She glanced over her shoulder knowingly. “Thanks for calling tonight, Miranda. I’m sorry we weren’t able to accomplish the work you had on your mind, but I will look forward to getting other things started next week.”

Miranda stalked forward, amazed and titillated by her suggestive candor. Whatever had enhanced Andrea had done much to give Miranda hope for the future. “Indeed. Be safe tonight.”

Andrea nodded. “Promise.”

The door shut firmly, echoing in the empty hallway. Never before had a closed door sounded so much like a beginning.

Chapter Text

Just Around the Bend (In the Garden of Sampson and Beasley - Pink Martini)

Andy held the leash a little more tightly when two squirrels raced across the path in front of them; she cursed as Sampson barked and leapt forward, yanking her arm hard. “Sammy, heel,” she said firmly, but the dog ignored her. His squirrel-attuned brain was in charge now, and he would need a few minutes to calm down after his nemeses went out of view. It had only been four months since she and Miranda had chosen Sampson from the shelter (or rather, he had chosen them), and while his behavior had monumentally improved, Central Park squirrels were their Mt. Everest of training. Typically at 7am on a cloudy, cool fall day, they could count on a relatively relaxed walk, but today, luck was not on their side.

Sampson’s nose hit the ground and he pulled Andy forward, so she let go of Miranda’s hand and went with him for a few yards until the dog found the scent he was looking for. His nose made the cutest sound as he put it to the grass; there was a difference between a normal sniff and a targeted assault on the ground with every olfactory receptor on high alert. He went to town for a moment as Miranda ambled up to them.

Andy glanced over with a shrug, but frowned when she saw the sadness on her wife’s face. “Honey?”

Miranda tilted her head and gazed over the Park. It was still quiet for now but would gradually grow more crowded as the city awakened. “Patricia always loved Strawberry Fields.”

Ah, Andy thought to herself. “Did she?” Andy had walked Patricia now and then, at the beginning. Once she knew Miranda’s secrets, she’d learned the big dog had a dedicated walker, along with the walks Miranda herself took with Caroline and Cassidy every weekend. Miranda only assigned new assistants a trip or two in order to prove their mettle.

“She made a beeline here every time. She had her little dog friends we’d see every Sunday. Sometimes we went to Cherry Hill to play fetch.”

Andy looked out over the vastness of the park and tried to imagine letting Sampson off leash in an unenclosed space. That was probably never going to happen. “She was a really sweet dog,” Andy said, and Miranda chuckled in reply.

“You don’t have to pretend, darling. She was a very challenging animal unless you knew her commands, which I very specifically never revealed to anyone but our inner circle. She really was an incredibly sweet dog. She adored the girls, but she was mine, in the end.”

Andy watched Miranda’s eyes grow a little glassy. “Is there something else?”

“Today is her anniversary. When she died, I mean.”

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s all right. It’s been a long time. But I still think of her.” Miranda glanced down at Sampson, who looked up immediately under Miranda’s attention and sat without prompting.

Andy groaned. “That is so unfair. He only sits for me if I have a treat in my hand!”

That brought a faint smile to Miranda’s face. “It’s your lackadaisical attitude. You need to be more commanding.”

“I’ll get right on that,” Andy said almost under her breath, taking Miranda’s hand again as Sampson panted eagerly at both of them. “You’re a stinker,” she said to Sampson teasingly, who immediately stood up and headed for the next tree, looking for the absolute best place to mark with his pee.

Chapter Text

the one you run to see (Time After Time - Chet Baker)

Andy luxuriated in the silence. Things had been so hectic over the last few months, she couldn’t remember the last time she had the pleasure of sitting alone in a room without the pressure of a deadline in front of her. It was a good reminder: she needed to disconnect much more often than she did.

It felt insane that she actually had the time to take a nap. And in this bed, with its softer than soft hotel sheets and a mattress that was certainly newer than the one she and Miranda shared, was another reminder that maybe they needed an upgrade at home. They could afford one, that was for sure. But they were so used to things as they were, maybe it would be worth bringing up when Miranda arrived. She checked the time on her phone screen with eager anticipation. It wouldn’t be long now.

It was so pleasant to feel the crack of the book’s spine when she opened it to start the first chapter, feet on the ottoman and comfortably ensconced in an armchair. She began to read, and even though it had been so long since she’d fallen into another world, the familiar feeling of escape overtook her. A couple of hours passed with Andy only moving to refill her glass of Pellegrino, select a few snacks from the minibar, and use the bathroom. She was nearly a quarter of the way through the book when the hotel room door opened.

Her eyes met Miranda’s. As usual, her partner didn’t move in for a kiss right away, although if Andy hadn’t known what to expect after all these years, she would have been put off. Instead, she just kept reading as Miranda ran through her evening routine; undress, remove her makeup, shower to wash off the grime of the day. Dinner would be delivered in just over an hour, and Miranda was taking the night off despite it being smack dab in the middle of Milan’s biggest week of the fashion year.

When Andy heard the shower stop, she migrated from the armchair to the bed.

Ten minutes later, Miranda emerged from the bathroom, looking worn out but happy. Andy smiled at her as Miranda crawled onto the bed and into her arms. “Goodness, I am glad to see you.”

“Me too,” Andy purred, running her fingers through Miranda’s damp hair. She smelled wonderful. One leg slid between Andy’s as they rested comfortably in each other’s arms.

Miranda lifted her head and took her in. “You look well,” she finally said, although she had her eyes on Andy’s hair. She had stopped coloring it well before she’d left for Mexico City, and three months had gone by since then. She was lucky that her grays were coming in strands rather than all at once. She thought it looked kind of distinguished.

“I look 42, honey. You can say it.”

Miranda seemed surprised. “Well. I look 70, so I don’t think we’re even.”

“At most you’re a hot 55 and you know it,” Andy crowed, well aware that Miranda had had a little non-surgical intervention sometime between the last time they’d seen each other and today. Miranda was more than happy to pursue the latest in medical breakthroughs to keep herself looking young, just as long as she never went under anesthesia. Andy had drawn the line at that. Well, that and the fillers that seemed to make women of a certain age look more alien than human. Any work Miranda had done just made her look like herself, but more well-preserved than your average human. “You’re not 70 yet, anyway.”

Andy, on the other hand, had aged like your average human. Next to each other, they still looked like they were many years apart, but it didn’t matter so much now that Andy was over 40. Once they’d been together a decade, people pretty much left them to their own devices.

“True. I still have a bit of a reprieve,” Miranda said, snuggling in.

“How has the week been?”

“The same, to be honest. I’m… I’m a little bored.”

That, more than anything, surprised Andy. Miranda was rarely bored by fashion, or fashion week. Something must be up. “What’s that about?” Andy asked.

Miranda shrugged. “I don’t know. This year just seems dull. Or I’ve grown dull, and everything’s just evolving without me.”

“I don’t buy that,” Andy said. Miranda was as plugged into trends as she always had been.

After a long pause, Miranda said, “I think-- I think I didn’t like us being apart for so long.”

Okay, so that was new. “You never said anything.”

“Well, I couldn’t while it was happening. We’d both already agreed to it.”

Andy considered that. Miranda had never put any restraints on Andy’s travel for work, not in the 17 years they’d been together. Often, Andy was away on assignment for months at a clip; they spent their 10th anniversary half a world away from each other. It had worn on Andy, but she had wanted a life of important storytelling, achievement, and excellence, so this was the way she’d always thought it should be. But apparently, she and Miranda had unknowingly been heading toward the same wavelength. Their life together might have started with more romantic drama than either would have preferred, but since then, they’d been very happy together. Like all couples, they experienced conflict, but their partnership was one of enormous harmony. When the day was through, no matter where their heads hit the pillow, love remained. The older she got, the more Andy understood just how rare that was.

“So, do you want to talk about how to maybe change that?” Andy asked carefully.

Andy felt Miranda’s ribcage expand as she inhaled deeply. They weren’t looking at each other, but Andy didn’t mind. “I think -- yes.”

A sense of calm descended upon her. She was so happy that Miranda had been the one to bring it up. The pace, the chase of the life she’d built had truly started to wear on her. Not to mention wear her out. “That works for me,” she replied.

Miranda stilled in her arms. “Really?” she asked. She pulled back and put her chin in one hand as she looked down at Andy. “I thought - well, I don’t know what I thought you’d say.”

Andy reached up and stroked Miranda’s soft cheek. “I love you more than anything, Miranda. Still after all this time, you are the most important thing in my life. I want us to have time to enjoy each other. Don’t you?”

“Well, yes. I - of course, I do.”

“Then we figure out what works. Everything we’ve done so far has worked, but that’s not to say it shouldn’t change. We have enormous freedom to make the lives we want. Don’t you think we should take advantage of that?”

Miranda’s eyes grew wide. “Yes. Yes. That's it exactly.” She frowned, shaking her head. “How on earth did you know?”

Andy grinned. “It’s my job. Always has been. Remember?”

Miranda jokingly pursed her lips, raising an eyebrow. “Mm, yes. Definitely part of the job.” She leaned down and kissed Andy, the shape of her mouth at once both familiar and new. Their kiss deepened, and the leg that rested between hers became restless after a minute. The benefit of their repeated separations meant that coming back together resulted in the enticing enjoyment of delayed affection. Miranda crawled more fully on top of Andy as their breaths became heavier, their kisses more pliant and seductive. When Miranda dragged Andy’s t-shirt over her head, Andy reveled in it.

“Darling,” Miranda whispered, and Andy arched in delicious pleasure.