Archive of Our Own

356 days a year, and Miranda spends working for most of them. Though, once in a while there would be a few days where she does spend the day off, well in her definition of a day off. This whole weekend is one of them, and usually her morning routine for those rare occasions is to: get up from bed, breakfast, briefly skim over work emails and secretly look over the book.

Well that's all she can get to before her daughters would catch her, berate her, then drag her to do things with them. It may seem annoying but to the Priestly-family, it was something precious and well kept memories that they hold close to themselves, especially these days when it was almost time for the girls to go off to university.

In this particular morning, as she was waiting for her coffee machine to finish, she happens to spot a moving-truck right outside of what was once the Ridley's home. She was rather familiar with the couple. Fights often about the most little things, has a rooftop garden, distant children, though they were rather warm with Miranda and her family at least. Then she heard of them moving to some other country, Australia or— wherever elderly couples like them decide to retire to. Miranda didn't really pay attention.

'Hmm.. well, welcome to the neighbourhood..' Miranda hums absentmindedly, observing burly men unload boxes and various furniture into the house.

As each piece disappears inside, Miranda takes notes of them, silently approving the sophisticated but purposely cluttered choices. Though it was something that she wouldn't pick personally, Miranda can recognise well chosen furniture when she sees it.

"Mum, don't tell me you're workin— oh.. is that our new neighbour?" Cassidy approaches, leaning against the windowsill as she watches the movers. Miranda glanced slightly beside her and can only slightly sigh out solemnly at the height difference between them. Moments like these really remind Miranda just how grown her daughters are, first it was shooting up like bamboo, and now it's almost their time to go off to university.

The beeping coming from the coffee machine broke her out of her thoughts, so she pulled away from the window to finally make herself a cup. In the kitchen, Miranda spots Caroline plate up their breakfast, and it seems like it's a breakfast skillet this time. Caroline then took the plates and placed them on the table before calling Cassidy over to eat.

The three of them enjoyed their comfortable breakfast, the twins engaged in gossip about a couple of some sorts and Miranda contently listening to them.

"—and honestly, you expect Raquelle to learn from before." Cassidy sighs, stabbing her potatoes with resignation.

"Well what can you do. Also can you even be surprised? Always going back to Tyler even if she says they're over. Like girl, have some self-respect." Caroline says resignedly before taking a nice slow sip from her coffee. "And anyways, we'll hear all about it in the group-chat over the semester."

"Speaking of…" Miranda speaks up, her voice be it quiet, cuts through her daughters' conversation, to which they turned their attention to. "Do you girls have your whole itinerary sorted? Schedules, courses, and such?" She asks, cutting into a tomato before popping it into her mouth.

With their mouths both full, Cassidy nods enthusiastically while Caroline gives her a thumbs up, and Miranda can only roll her eyes affectionately at their responses. "I was expecting worded response but, that'll do I guess. After all this time, I do wonder where did all your manners go." Miranda jokes, cracking a soft smile as she sees her daughters shoot her sly smile.

"Yes mum." , "I'm all set." They say as they laugh together and Miranda can only look sombrely at them.

Caroline took note of Miranda's expression before softening, placing a hand on-top of the older woman's as she smiles at her. Not far behind her, Cassidy then grinned warmly at her. "Don't look so sad mum. Me and Caroline will call you weekly. I promise, right Caro?" She looks towards her sister, who nodded in agreement.

"She's right. We'll make sure to call as often as we can, even if we're in the middle of exam season." Caroline grins, earning a pat on her hand from Miranda.

"Thank you Bobsseys, however, there's no need to call if you truly are busy. I would know." Miranda reassures them, dismissing the worried looks from them to which she waves off as she finishes her cup of coffee.

"Mum.." Cassidy starts to say before Caroline cuts her off with a look, and she can only sigh at the message her sister was telling her telepathically. "How about we go to the Botanical Garden today? Walk around, take photos, maybe… paint?" She trails off, an implication laying within the last suggestion as she looks at her mother.

"Nice try dear." Miranda says adoringly at her daughter before walking out with a dismissal wave of a hand. "Though I am open to going to the Gardens."

As she walks out of view, she can hear her daughter groan in defeat and her sister jokingly poking fun at her. "At least you tried."

"C'mon you can't tell me you aren't curious to see mum's paintings ever since she told us she can paint."

"You mean, you basically ripping that fact out from her?"

"Not the point."

Miranda can only shake her head as she continues listening to her daughter's converse. When she walked past her window, her attention was caught by something. Stopping, she leaned closer to get a clearer look.

Sitting on the steps as movers still bring things in, was a girl, around her daughters' age when they were still in that awkward phase during high-school, maybe 14 years old or so. She sat at the side, headphones around her neck as she watches the people around her move, looking utterly bored and was getting visibly upset the more she was shut down by the movers when she tries to talk to them, probably trying to ask if she could help. Miranda can feel herself get irritated for her, and her face only expresses it in the only way she can, pursing of the lips.

Suddenly, as if the girl could feel someone watching, she looked around before her eyes met Miranda's who merely nods in greeting, choosing to walk away before the girl can wave back.

Eventually it was time for Cassidy and Caroline to go off to their respected university's. Tears were wept and hugs were exchanged as both Miranda and her ex-husband Greg said farewell to their girls before they too parted ways.

That was weeks ago, and right now, it was absolutely pouring. For the past few days, it had been a downpour and it didn't look like it would slow down one bit. Miranda, under Nigel's insistence, had gone home early and now is settled in her office reading an email from Emily about the team holding down the fort without her there.

After staring at her screen for far too long, she decided to go down to the living room, hoping to see or do anything.

When she got to the empty room, Miranda had remembered that her girls told her that they had dinner with their new friends after the older woman had gotten back home. Then she remembered the two of them telling her to eat dinner since they knew she would skip it at this time of night, and she can only smile at the gesture.

As Miranda stares out the window, she reminisces once again, that was happened more frequently now than ever since her twins had left the 'coop'. Nigel had called it 'Empty Nest Syndrome', whatever that means.

Then, a shadow passing by caught her eye. Squinting to see what that was about, Miranda spots the girl from the Ridley's old-house running through the rain, a wet hood over her head and her hands pitifully covering her face. Miranda watched her as she got to the door, only to be confused as the older woman sees the girl desperately pat around her pockets as she checked her bag.

Miranda frowns once she sees the girl lean back tiredly against the front door, sliding down it as she sat, folding in into herself. That's when Miranda realised that the girl couldn't get inside her house, and by the looks of it, no one was still home.

Her eyebrow twitched as Miranda was getting increasingly aware of the worsening weather. The thought of the girl sitting there all wet and most likely cold, and perhaps even hungry finally did it for Miranda.

So, grabbing her LV umbrella, Miranda opens her door wide, stepping out just enough so that the rain wouldn't fully reach her, and opens it up before finally making her way across the street.

Sensing her approach, the girl sitting looks up, frowning at first before a look of recognition appears. "You're the woman across the street." She says as a statement rather than a question.

Miranda merely huffs and gestures towards her home. "Feel free to stay out here cold and wet, however, my home is warm and dry. Come inside and dry off until you can find a way to get inside your house." She says, wincing internally at the bluntness of her tone, that was so not how you address a kid.

The girl on the other hand didn't look offended whatsoever, though traces of suspicion is present on her face. "And I should trust you, a stranger, because…?" She questions, and Miranda can't help but be somewhat relieved that the girl wouldn't take a stranger's help quickly.

"You shouldn't, either you stay at my home for the time being, or stay here, that's up to you." Miranda states before walking away, hurrying to head back in. Then she feels an arm brush next to her and Miranda couldn't help but smile slightly at the girl beside her.

Turns out, as the girl was drying herself with towels Miranda passed to her, she was a chatter. Talking about how her day went and how 'dog-shit', her words, the weather was lately, though she wasn't sure if that was the language a 14 year old should saying with an adult in-front of them.

"—anyways, how nice of you to let some drowned up kid drench your doorstep, thanks ma'am." She says, laughing her 'joke' off, which caused something stir up inside of Miranda.

"Wouldn't be good if you caught a cold, what would your guardian say. Come." Miranda simply says before heading inside, hoping the teen will follow her into the kitchen, and to her satisfaction, she did.

"My mum will probably scold me, this is like the nth time I forgot my keys, I'm sure she'll be super thankful to you for keeping me dry though." She smiles as she approaches the island, placing a dry towel in the stool before sitting in it. "I'm Bianca! Bia if you want, uhm… I'm sorry, I'm pretty sure my phone died so.. I just wanna ask… uh—" Bianca introduces herself, trailing off when she tried to ask something from Miranda.

Luckily, the older woman understood what the girl was asking for and pulled out her own phone from her pocket before passing it Bianca. "Call who you need to call." Was all the editor said before turning around to turn kettle and induction on. "Hot chocolate?" She asked before getting an enthusiastic nod from the girl.

As Bianca was using the phone, Miranda added the leftover lasagna from last night's dinner to the hot pan, making sure it was all heated. While the lasagna was warming up, Miranda took out a cup and scooped out a spoon of hot chocolate powder before adding a small teaspoon of sugar, finally adding the newly boiled water from the kettle. Stirring with one hand, Miranda grabbed a plate and placed it beside the pan, making sure to keep an eye on the food before it burns.

Finally, she stopped stirring and moved on to turn off the heat, sliding the pasta onto the plate. Miranda looked towards Bianca and saw that the girl had a frown on her face before dropping, dialling once again. Miranda started to get irritated for the girl, wondering whether that parent of hers was purposely ignoring their child's calls.

Miranda, a person that even with daily jam-packed schedules full of exhausting hours, always made sure to pick any and every call her daughters makes, no matter the circumstances, call it trying to make up for all the things she'd miss, but she would always, always pick up the phone for her daughters.

When Miranda placed the plate and cup down in-fromt of Bianca, she finally looked up with a big thankful grin which totally didn't tug on any strings on her cold heart.

"I'm pretty sure she's held up by stuff, she usually picks up… maybe an interview or something." Bianca mutters, before picking up a fork and cutting a piece off, popping the slice into her mouth.

Miranda watched as the teen's eyes lights up, smiling as she cut away another piece off, eagerly chewing the pasta.

"Wow, this is really good y'know? Thanks for this ma'am." Bianca smiles even with the phone on her ear and somehow, Miranda can not bring herself to feel annoyed with the pasta sauce smeared around the teen's mouth.

"Man this tastes so unrea— Mum!" Bianca exclaims, immediately beaming.

The older woman watches as Bianca was explaining her situation to her mother. Miranda watches as she apologises for forgetting her keys again as well as cracking a joke about stapling the key-chain itself on her hand.

"Right now? Just having lunch at Miss—" Bianca stops. "Gee, I forgot to ask, what's your name again ma'am?" She asks sheepishly.

"Miranda." The older woman smiles amusingly, secretly worried at how Bianca's mother would react to a stranger keeping their child in their house. She knows she would be.

"—Miss Miranda's place. The house across us… uh-huh… uh-huh… okay." Bianca mutters, nodding as she listens to what her mother was saying, having another spoonful of lasagna in her mouth, making Miranda cringe a bit.

'The girls were just like this…' She suddenly thought, before defusing the memory sombrely away.

"…Okay, make sure you're safe… Yeah, love you too mum, c'ya" Finally, the kid hangs up, holding out the phone back to Miranda, which the older woman took gratefully. "Mum says she'll be here in a few, I think she was hailing a cab during the call…"

Miranda can only nod approvingly, silently berating herself for doubting the mother's parental capabilities. Maybe she really was doing something that kept her away from the phone, before Miranda can think further, she hears the clinking and clanking of dishes and turns around to find Bianca by the sink, already suds deep with washing the dishes.

"That's not necessary Bianca, here let me—" Miranda says, approaching the girl until she was met with a held out soapy palm, stopping the editor in her tracks.

"You let me in, fed me, and kept me warm. Please, let me do this? My mum will have my head if she finds out that I didn't at-least do this for you." The girl pleaded, her brown eyes looking into Miranda's own in that puppy-like look that her own daughters would weaponise against her, and unluckily for Miranda, she would always relent to them.

Sighing, Miranda backs away. "Fine. Though once you're done, you can wait in the living-room if you want to."

All she got as a response was a lazy thumbs up before Bianca got back to rinsing the cup. Miranda can only roll her eyes, sighing at the gesture. What was up with teenagers and their lazed out behaviours and responses, even her own set couldn't escape from that, despite the amount of etiquette lessons they took.

Miranda and Bianca was sitting at the living-room together in silence. When the teen had finished washing and drying the dishes she used, she found her way to the room, before sitting down, while Miranda was seated in her armchair with The Book in-hand, and a marker in the other.

In the corner of her eye, she observed as Bianca was looking around the room, her fingers drumming against her thighs and it didn't take long for her to get up, lugging in her damp backpack with her. Miranda watched as the teen got out a workbook of some sorts and a pen, which she twirled around as she read the text in the book, occasionally writing and muttering things from time to time.

They spent half an hour or so like that before Bianca asked to use the bathroom, which Miranda pointed out the direction to. The descent of the staircase was quiet as the editor made her way back to the living-room until a knock at the front-door cut through the silence, immediately catching Miranda's attention.

Approaching the door, Miranda made sure to take a quick look at the side window before opening it. In all of Miranda's years as the Editor in Chief of Runway, she had encountered countless of models, all varying in levels of beautiful, and yes, however, none can compare to the woman standing in-front of her.

Her doe-brown eyes caught her attention first, staring back at her own blue hues. It was as if they held so much in them, dripping with brightness that Miranda couldn't help but envy. The woman's hair somehow was still glowing and bouncy despite the downpour outside, droplets of water sitting meticulously amongst the waves of brown.

"Woah… Oh! Uh— Good evening! Uhm- I'm Bianca's mother, Andy Sachs." The woman introduces herself, interrupting Miranda's thoughts.

"Andy?" Miranda cleared her throat.

"Uh, yeah! Well it's actually Andrea but I'm usually cool with Andy—"

"Ma! You're finally here!" Bianca exclaims from behind the two women at the door, causing Miranda to flinch back, taking a step away from the door, gesturing for Andy to enter.

Andy chuckles and steps forward towards her daughter, arms open as she catches Bianca in her arms. "Hey babygirl, sorry I was a bit late, but believe me when I say that I tried to get back home as fast as I can."

"It's cool, Miss Miranda kept me nice and dry. Oh! Ma, this is Miss Miranda." Bianca gestures to Miranda, who was standing to the side, not wanting interrupt the mother-daughter conversation.

"A pleasure." Miranda responded curtly.

"Miss Miranda, this is my mum, An—"

"Andrea. I believe." The older woman says, a rare smile on her face, taking note of the surprise look on the brunette's face. Huh, that pink looks oddly nice on her.

Andy on the other hand simply was looking at Miranda, and even if it was half a second, the silence hadn't gone unnoticed by Bianca, who looked at them both, a questioning brow raised.

"Ah-! I'm a pleasure to— I mean, the pleasure is all mine." Andy stuttered, the tips of her ear heating up in embarrassment as she held a hand out to shake, which Miranda took gently, shaking it twice before letting go, oddly finding the strong desire to grasp it again.

Andy shook her head before smiling. "Thank you-! So much for taking care of this lil' kid. Keeping her warm and fed." She gestures towards Bianca, who grin happily as she looked up at the two adults

"Yeah, thanks a lot Miss Miranda, that lasagna was good." Bianca smiled, earning a smile from Miranda.

"It's no problem." Miranda says softly.

Andy then turned to Miranda with this pleading look on her face. "Please, come over for dinner tomorrow. It's the least we can do for you."

The editor merely shook her head. "That's not needed, I just merely let in a child that was on the brink of getting of being drowned by the rain, inside. Anyone would do that."

The older woman heard a huff of amusement before she felt the touch. Miranda looked down before she slightly stiffen as a warm hand grasped her arm. A warm hand that belonged to Andy herself.

"Not a lot of people would do the same. Please? Let us make you a thank you dinner." Andy asks, those same puppy-dog eyes that her own daughter deployed on Miranda half-an-hour ago.

"Yeah! Please, Miss Miranda?" Speaking of the devil, the teen looked towards Miranda with that expression, hands pressed together as she pleaded with her mother.

God. Miranda felt her resolve waver by the second. Sure, she can dismiss that look once, however, two brown eyes had practically melted any chance of denying the offer. Sighing, Miranda ran her hand through her hair. "Alright, since you both had insisted."

When Miranda relented, the mother-daughter looked at each other grinning, pleased to have won her over. The older woman can only roll her eyes as she watches the two fist-bumped in victory.

"Shall I bring something?" Miranda asks, which the two shot her a look that made Miranda scoffs in surprise.

"That's not needed, just bring yourself." Andy says, eyes basically implying to not even try, and in Bianca's they reflect the same message, shaking her head disapprovingly.

Oh.

Well, little did they know, Miranda's incredibly stubborn, and that means, bringing over one of the finest wine she has.

Andy then checked her watch, and blinked surprised. "Geez, we over-stayed our welcome, Bia, can you grab your stuff and make your way back to the house. Here's the key." She says as she hands the key over to the teen.

Then she turned back towards Miranda smiling, and the older woman suddenly felt a fluttering feeling in her stomach, a feeling that she hadn't experienced in a long time. She can feel Bianca leave the house, though, she couldn't really process it as she stares into doe-brown eyes that stared back into her own sharp ones.

"Thank you again, Miranda. Not many people would do what you did, and I'm grateful for it. You're a kind person." Andy says before turning towards the door. "Have a good evening Miss Miranda." She waved goodbye, then, she was gone, the door closing shut behind her.

Miranda didn't know how long she stood there but Andy's voice kept ringing in her ear.

You're a kind person.

Her? Kind? That's an adjective that no one but her closest circle would call her, and even then it's not the first word that would come to mind when it came to Miranda.

Sure, there was the usual 'insults'; cold, harsh, cruel, a bitch. Then there were ones that was just plain backhanded or to was used to suck up to her: beautiful, charming, intelligent. But, kind? It was an odd word, and it caused something to stir within her, and Miranda didn't know how to feel about it.

So, swallowing a lump down her throat, she decided to turn in for the night, hoping that sleep might help her forget the funny feeling in her stomach that gentle eyes and warm words caused.

Unfortunately, sleep seem to have other plans.

Miranda was too absorbed into the layout in-front of her that she hadn't registered Nigel talking to her.

"— nda? ... Miranda?" He asks her, his head tilting in that way that it does whenever he was worried.

Shaking her head, Miranda finally looked up at him, a questioning brow raised, trying to cover up the fact she of all people was in a daze at work. "Yes?"

Nigel squinted at her worryingly, adjusting his glasses like he was contemplating on saying something but couldn't decide whether or not he should. "…Are you alright?" He finally asks, the genuine concern in his eyes softening her.

"I'm fine." Was all Miranda says, thankfully Nigel didn't take it to heart, making a wise decision on not to push the subject, and the two resumed working peacefully in tandem.

In the middle of going over the belt colour on the model, Miranda dazed off again, thinking about her dinner tonight. She wondered if she should really follow the mother and daughter's insistence of not bringing anything. But on the other hand, the stubborn part inside of her wanted to at-least bring something for them—they are making her dinner after all, and she really didn't mind at all. Her wine rack sure isn't complaining. Though the thought of the two of them looking at her disapprovingly was making her uncharacteristically second-guess her instincts.

"Miranda, Emily is here with the prints." Her first assistant, Taylor, says, bringing Miranda out of her thoughts.

Miranda can only hum, a signal to let the woman in, and before long, Emily Charlton walks in with folders of the proofs, setting it down on her desk. "You would think Prints could get these done quickly, but apparently, they were atrociously horrible today." She says as she lays a few pages on-top of the folder.

"I personally think they were just stalling for time before you lob their heads off." Nigel says, huffing amusingly at the red-head.

"That's what I thought too." Emily adds in.

Ever since Emily got promoted from first assistant, to Junior Art Director, assisting Nigel with photo-shoots, and layouts, she grew more comfortable with talking to Miranda—her hero worship eventually diluting as she got to be with the editor more closely, and that benefited her very well, her own talents shining as she grasped more of the job. That in turn, made her more relaxed to talk about whatever to Miranda, at-least whenever Nigel is around.

Talking to Miranda one-on-one still made the back of her neck clammy.

"Hypothetically, if a neighbour invites you as a thank you dinner, and they insisted on not bringing anything, should you still bring something?" Miranda asks suddenly, cutting Nigel and Emily's quiet conversation off who turned to look at her confused. The editor then realised that she had voiced that thought out loud, so wanting to save face, she simply looked at them with a raised eyebrow, hoping that brief fear will win over their own speculation.

"Uh— well I would say bring something? It's not like they could deny you, no?" Nigel simply says, though it seems Emily have a different opinion.

"Hang on, but what if they feel more in-debt? It is a thank-you dinner after all. I'd say don't bring anything." Emily counters.

"Well yes, but the small action of bringing something to dinner shouldn't be that bad, even if it was a dinner specifically to thank you. Simply just insist on what you brought." Nigel says back, and before Emily could say something back, Miranda interrupted.

"The yellow on 52 looks too.. citrus-y, Emily go see Oscar about it and fix it immediately before my eyes bleed out, that's all." Miranda commands, which Emily moved, leaving promptly.

The moments following should be peaceful, going back to talking about the prints the red-head brought over, however, Miranda could feel Nigel's gaze on her. Sighing, she looked back up to Nigel, who was in fact looking at her quizzically.

"It was simply a question Nigel, that's all." She huffs out, hoping that her old friend wouldn't question her further, thankfully, he didn't, only humming in response before pointing out the window at a page of the proofs.

Miranda looked at herself once more at the mirror located in the foyer and gave herself a nod at the ensemble for tonight. Chanel cream button up paired with a Valentino black dress pants, and Tom Ford black pumps. It was simple but still held her usual classy style, the kind of look that didn't look like it was put together for an hour, the kind where it was effortlessly stylish.

Perfume. Good.

Hair. Perfect.

Wine…

The editor looked down in her hand. There, wrapped in light packaging, was a vintage Merlot that was gathering dust in the rack. Miranda knew that it was a bit overkill for a thank you dinner, however, if she wanted to do something, she might as well go all the way—and anyways, it's not like Andy nor her daughter could even tell the difference.

She checked herself one more time in the mirror then suddenly berated herself for acting this way. This is just a dinner for god sakes, not a romantic dinner that a date made for her. It was just dinner. Hosted by Bianca and her mother. A thank you dinner, nothing more.

Plus, it's not like she was busy that night. Nigel had a handle on things, especially with Emily backing him up, and there were no dinners she had to go to where she would have to charm the attendees.

Shaking her thoughts, Miranda made her way out of the townhouse before crossing the street across towards the house in-front of hers. Oddly enough, she could feel nerves present in her hands as she knocked the door, more so as she waited for it to open.

Thankfully Miranda didn't have to wait for long because eventually the door finally opened, revealing Bianca in a very laid back outfit that teens her age would wear.

"Good evening Bianca." Miranda greets.

"Evening Miss Miranda! We're glad you were able to make it." She greets back grinning. Then she held her hands out as if she was waiting for something. "Your coat?" The teen asks, beaming when Miranda nodded, and proceeded let the teen take the coat off.

It didn't take long until Miranda was ushered to where she can assume was the kitchen. As they were approaching the room, Miranda can smell the aroma wafting through the air, growing in waves the closer they get, as well as sounds of something frying increasing in volume too. Stepping into the kitchen, Miranda was greeted with the sight of Andy at the stove-stop stirring something with a wooden spoon.

Looking to her right, Miranda sees the dining table already set up. Three sets of plates with cups and two big trivets at the centre of the table, most likely for the main dishes that would be served for tonight.

"Miss Miranda! You're here just on time, I'm glad!" Andy greets her, beaming the same way her daughter was too. Then, she frowned and Miranda can only guess why. "I was hoping you didn't bring anything…" She murmurs, playfully pouting before she turned her attention to the food.

"It's already here, and I insist. Is there anything I can help you with?" Miranda says, suddenly feeling a bit shy as she watches Andy plate the food with ease.

"Nah, not needed, uh- how 'bout take a seat. Everything just got done cooking." Andy says, moving past Miranda with the hot dish that the brunette took out the oven. Looking into it, Miranda can see a rotisserie chicken, shining with what must be juice, topped with herbs with lemons. The sight of it almost made Miranda drool as Andy placed the dish on a trivet

Miranda then felt a hand grasp the bottle out of her hands, then another pair of hands guiding her to her seat, and Miranda couldn't do anything but let her be guided, clearly not used to the amount of attention (and physical touch) she was getting. She was just a guest, is she not? The behaviour from the mother-daughter truly confused the older woman. Anyways, it didn't take long before everyone was seated at the table, the spread in-front of them mouth watering.

Miranda hummed in satisfaction, chewing slowly as she savoured the herby notes of the chicken. Smith & Wollensky was good yes, but there's something about a home-cooked meal that won't ever beat out the flavours of high-end restaurants.

The chicken was juicy and soft, with just the right amount of snap from the skin—the salad was fresh, as if the greens in the salad had come from a home-garden. It was crispy and and the tomatoes were perfect, especially with the dressing. Andy told Miranda that it was sesame dressing she was given by her old neighbour, apparently it was most commonly used in Asian meals, and apparently it's rather versatile.

The editor made sure to take note of that the next time she wants to experiment in the kitchen, well that is if Miranda has the time for it.

"This is amazing Andrea. I mean it." Miranda says genuinely, and was rather pleased with the shy response back. Bianca beamed at the the older woman, grinning with pride at the praise.

"It's really nothing. I like to cook, that's all there is to it." Andy says bashfully.

"Nothing my ass. Mum, you literally spent the whole night thinking up what to cook for Miss Miranda." Bianca interjects, smirking at the pink slightly colouring her mother's cheeks, and Andy secretly hoped that the teen had thought that it was because she got caught downplaying her own efforts.

"Language Bia, we're at the table…" Andy mumbles, trying to re-direct the conversation from herself. Miranda's lip curves up into a subtle smile that the brunette caught—further flushing at eye contact that the editor was maintaining.

"I do have a question, about the salad." Miranda starts, taking a sip of water out from her chilled cup.

"Uhm- What is it?"

"Well, the vegetables are rather fresh, were these recently picked or..?" Miranda then proceeds to stab her fork into the last bits of her leafy greens before placing it into her mouth, chewing the crunchy vegetables in delight.

"Oh! Yeah, I managed to snab some from my friend's shop when I stopped by today. She always makes sure I get the freshest batch before she puts it out to the public." Andy grins, clearly smug about her connections.

"Well that sure is a way to make use of your connections Andrea." Miranda teases as she wipes her mouth with a napkin, her plate empty and her appetite satisfied.

Andy smiles back, an eyebrow raised, challenging her.

"You got something against that?"

"No, in-fact I actually commend it. I do wish some of my staff would take advantage of the connections they have to make things more efficient." Miranda huffs tiredly. "Though, if that would make them too egotistical… well, that's another problem."

The brunette hums before noticing the way her daughter was looking at them two as if she was trying to figure a puzzle out. Then, their eyes met and Andy wasn't able to read Bianca's face this time. Which did make her a bit worried since she could usually read what was on her daughter's mind. The smile Bianca gave her didn't help in the slightest.

"Well, mum, I am full… so how 'bout I clean up here? Yeah? Cool." Bianca suddenly announces, standing up and humming as she went around the table gathering up her plate and such, then finally making her way to the sink, placing it inside, before finally leaving the room.

Miranda and Andy watched as Bianca popped her head back in once more.

"Oh! And thanks for coming Miss Miranda, like I wish I can stay and help clean up the rest but I got this school project thingy going on." Bianca smiles innocently before walking away. "Have a good-night Miss Miranda, I'll see ya later!" Was all the two adults can hear before it faded into silence as the teen climbed up the stairs.

Miranda and Andy looked at each other with a mix of confusion and amusement at the girl's antics. The silence that settled between was surprisingly comfortable, and the two decided to finally get up— clearing the dining table, as well as putting any leftovers into containers before placing them away in the fridge. As the last plate was added into the dishwasher, the two made their way to the island where the Merlot that Miranda brought over was placed at.

Andy brought wine glasses and smiled warmly at Miranda, who can only watch the brunette, as she pulled the cork out, and poured into each glass with practised ease.

"So.. what do you really think of the chicken? You probably said it was great because of Bia." Andy questions Miranda as she swirls her glass.

Miranda quirked a brow up curiously as she took a sip from her glass, the delightful fruity notes bouncing along her tongue.

"Not because of Bianca. I meant what I said, and I always mean what I say, believe me." The older woman murmurs as she observes the brunette in-front of her.

Andy, a stunned expression on her face can only gape for a second, before shutting up as she took a sip of Merlot.

"Oh. I see."

The silence was a bit awkward after that. The light was dim and the streets were dark, and Bianca, who know what she's up to.

"Tell me, what is that you do? Your job, passion, whatever it is." Miranda suddenly asks, trying to attempt with breaking the awkwardness between them.

"I'm a journalist, technically, an the chief investigative journalist at the Times, though I do a bit of freelancing when it comes to writing here and there." Andy says, swirling her cup again.

The editor hums approvingly.

"Impressive. Though, indulge me and I mean with no offence, but… a house in the Upper East Side? I'm curious."

Andy laughs, the kind of laugh that someone makes when they're truly amused, and the kind of laugh that makes Miranda's stomach churn weirdly.

"This was my grandparent's house, they aren't the fan of selling assets to realtors and such, so they decided to give their house to their daughter, who gave it to her daughter."

Andy then points to herself, clearly floundering. "I'm their daughter's daughter, I'm my mother's daughter— their daughter is my mother— "

"I got it." Miranda chuckles, taking in the brunette's face as it contorts into this awkward smile that Miranda can't find un-charming.

Andy then takes a hasty sip, her face flushing again, and Miranda thinks that the brunette must be a light-weight.

"Right.. Yeah." She trails off, chuckling to herself.

The silence this time was comfortable, the atmosphere, warm. That left Miranda to ponder when was the last time she spent an evening like this. No book, no unnecessary galas and dinners— just an evening that is just peaceful. An evening where she can loosen her mask a little bit in-front of another person.

It's been far too long. It was pleasant and she savoured the warmth of it.

After a few minutes of silence and taking sips from their glasses, Andy then looked at Miranda.

"I think we should drink these somewhere else, follow me."

"What?" Miranda asks, her curiosity peaked and all she can do, was follow the journalist up the stairs.

It was quiet as they go up the flights of stairs, the only sound audible was the soft padding of their feet as it meets carpet-lined steps. The higher they go up, the sounds of New York's Upper-East-Side getting louder, then Andy reached the last steps into a short hallway before opening the door at the end.

A soft breeze passed Andy as she stepped through the door— Miranda not far behind, could only gasp at the rooftop terrace. Sure it was smaller than hers but there was this feeling that comes with it. The pergola hanging over most of the rooftop's square footage was decorated with solar fairy lights that, like this night, would glow beautifully in the dark. Underneath the pergola was a seating area with a grill and a decent counter-top for a barbeque.

Miranda followed Andy as she sat on one of the chairs, placing down the bottle on the table between the chairs that the both of them took. The two then engage in a light conversation with topics varying from work to the little things like what their daughters were up to—laughing at each story highlighting their children's little dumb decisions (and consequences that follow them).

"I swear, the way I found that kid folded like a panini in the basket, I literally couldn't stop laughing. I even got it on video too if you wanna see it." Andy giggled, her cheeks flushed with Merlot, as she recalled the time where she walked into her daughter calling for help when she got herself stuck in the laundry basket.

Miranda shook her head in amusement. "Teenagers, honestly, I swear it's like the moment they hit puberty, the wheels in their brains just get thrown out the mind. Once, I caught my girls try to replace one of my ex-husband's girlfriend's pistachio-filled donut with wasabi, and when they realised I saw what happened, Cassidy ate the donut."

"No!"

"Oh yes. The next 10 minutes was just full of a 16 year-old screaming as she runs her mouth under the faucet, blasting her tongue with cold water. " Miranda chuckles, teeth showing as she recalls the fond memory with nostalgia.

Andy laughs with her until it dwindled into a smile. Miranda could feel the staring from her— she could feel the genuine concern from the younger woman.

"You must miss them."

"Very much." Miranda admits, a little bit of weight lifting from her shoulders at the admission which greatly surprised her.

Andy nodded beside her. "I get it. University, isn't really an easy thing, especially for parents. You just got to hope that they're alright. I know my parents were scared to their wits end about me, though I think it was mostly because they didn't want their daughter spending uni holed up in her room studying 'till her brain gave out."

As if sensing the sombre mood through the air, Andy decided to change the topic.

"Anyways, this terrace was a pain, like such a pain in the ass. It took a while to get the clearance for it, and when we did, we were able to make a terrace here before my grandparents officially handed the papers to me. Sometimes I use it to get away from the world for a while, sometimes Bia goes here to do… whatever she does." Andy says, looking toward the distant lights. "We're planning on using the grill here for the summer, or parties."

Then Andy looks back to Miranda, looking at her with earnest eyes.

"You should come over when we do."

Miranda can only sip her Merlot in surprise. She thought this dinner would be a one time thing then it's back to their own lives. But apparently this woman that she had just met wants her back?

"Miss Miranda..?"

"…Why?" She murmurs, blinking again when the editor realised that she said it out loud.

"What do you mean?" Andy asks, looking at her as if she had said the most weirdest thing, and to be honest, it probably was.

Miranda let the silence stretch for a bit, but with the way the brunette looked at her expectantly was making cracks within her composure.

"I mean… why the invite? I was under the assumption that, this, was a one time thing."

"… Oh."

Miranda looks away, this time finishing the rest of her glass, something that she seems to need at this current moment.

"Why should I need a reason to invite you? Bia pretty much took a liking of you from the get-go, and I… don't mind you around." Andy says, her voice— filled with such honesty and admission, that it caught the editor off guard.

Miranda blinks.

"You're not imposing, believe me. Despite only meeting just recently, I have a feeling we can be… close friends."

The older woman just looks at Andy, and at first, she thought that the brunette was joking. However the sincere look in her droopy eyes told her differently— her heart stuttering at the intensity of it.

Friends. That's right. When was the last time Miranda truly met one— Nigel is her closest and if she was being honest, her only friend, and Emily is kind of one by proxy via Nigel. Donatella or Valentino are one she guesses, however, are they really that close to be considered friends? Miranda hadn't 'made' a friend in years, she doesn't do friends. Companions sure, acquaintances mostly, but friends, is a whole different topic.

"Friends…?" Miranda murmurs, a flicker of something rose within her chest when Andy smiles at her warmly.

"Yeah! Unless…" Andy trails off, concern quickly washing over her once grinning expression awkwardly.

Miranda hums as she refills her glass. "I.. don't mind."

It was quiet, though, she can feel the younger woman's eyes on her— lifting her head, she sees those bright eyes once again, and Miranda can't help but smile slightly when she hears Andy hum excitedly as they both drink from their glass in their comfortable silence, the sounds of New York buzzing around them.

From that night on, Bianca or Andy would occasionally stop by Miranda's townhouse. Usually when they were sure the editor was home and was available to go over to. Same thing with Miranda through invitations by email. Sometimes it'd be brunch or dinner, sometimes even breakfast during the weekends whenever Miranda was home.

Some days Bianca herself would come over whenever she was bored, or whenever she wants to talk to someone about things that she can't talk to her mother about, and of course Miranda would listen, giving her own advice if needed.

Just like her daughter, Andy would also come by randomly. Well not randomly, usually the brunette would shoot her a text before she would come over, and usually she would talk about a multitude of things. Sometimes it would be something that irritated her, or something from work, or even her worries about Bianca, and Miranda, obviously, listens to each one.

Eventually Miranda finds that she herself would come over to the Sachs's too. Sometimes it would be late after work where she really needed to talk to someone, or during nights where she can't focus on The Book. Andy or Bianca would open the door lend an open ear to the editor. Unsurprisingly, they didn't really care what Miranda did, and she was a bit touched whenever they would genuinely ask questions about her world.

Sometimes when Miranda would find herself there, she would often assist and cook alongside Andy as they prepare the meal at the time— breakfast, lunch, or dinner. This in turn helped Miranda hone her kitchen skills further, to the point where she actually cooked them a good spread for a few dinners here and there.

Nights where Miranda can't sleep, she would end up staying at the Sachs's overnight in the guest-room, Bianca calls it Miranda's room at one point (which totally didn't make the older woman's stomach do the splits), and Andy would stay up with her until she eventually goes to sleep, which Miranda found oddly fast.

They each had gone over to each other's houses that it had gotten to the point where they just exchanged spare keys so that they'd be able to enter their houses whenever. Though that was done with notification beforehand, well, with Bianca as an exception. Miranda found herself not mind the teen's spontaneous intrusion and actually welcomed it the first time it happened.

Evidently, the closer Miranda was getting with the Sachs's, the more she got to know about them.

Andy was born and raised in Cincinnati. Studied at Northwestern University and she eventually moved to Boston where she met Bianca's father Nate. They dated, and when she told him that she was pregnant with Bianca, he up'd and left, leaving her with a baby in her belly and a broken heart.

When Miranda was told about this, she felt the overwhelming urge to find out the man's whereabouts so that she can blacklist his ass from hell and back. Luckily for him, the sad look in Andy's eyes told her not to.

Well, for now.

She also found out that Andy likes walnuts with her waffles, something about both foods starting with 'W', weird but Miranda adds walnuts to the waffles she gets the woman anyways.

Bianca wanted to pursue something with photography though she hadn't made up her mind yet. She loves watermelon, and sketching in her notebooks, which made Miranda feel honoured when the teen eventually showed her each piece.

It was magnificent and Miranda expressed it so. That led to Miranda teaching and giving tips from time to time.

Spending time with them was easy. Miranda always feels like a weight on her shoulders lifts whenever she sees Bianca pout at something or whenever Andy sticks her tongue out when she was focused onto something.

This change in her personal life eventually affected her professional life. She's less impulsive when it comes to firing employees, and tolerates them to a certain degree. Of course her patience does run out when they continuously test her, but that gauge is much bigger than before— to the point where Runway's staff was actually left more scared than before.

At one point said thank you to her assistant for bringing her lunch while in the middle of a run-through, which left the poor girl rattling as she worried herself if she was going to get fired or worse.

Nigel obviously noticed this, from the very first time Miranda had given one of the photographers another chance to fix their mistake when she would usually pull them off the shoot immediately.

He also noticed how frequently the editor would check her computer. Constantly catching her looking at her screen with anticipation, and he almost stumbled when he walked in on her smiling at the screen. Before he could even question her, he was shut down with a glare and a cleared throat. The rest of the day, he walked around with a daze that even Emily noticed, ribbing him gently about it.

'Something must've happened recently.' He thought. Obviously something changed, and it can't be because she's used to her children's absence. But those faraway eyes has lessen lately, and Nigel thinks it had something to do with her recent development in behaviour.

And as Miranda's closest confidant, she probably wouldn't mind him probing around.

"Miranda, why don't you come over for dinner?" Nigel asks one day, strolling into Miranda's office with a file open as an excuse.

The woman in subject, was looking at him suspiciously, and despite him raising his hands in surrender, that still didn't make her any less suspicious.

"Dinner?" Miranda repeats, confirming the suspicious looks that he had been feeling from her.

"Yes! Dinner, just us gals. Is it harmful to ask? Unless… you have plans?" He glances sideways at her, seeing her visibly bristle in the corner of his eyes as he pretends to pay attention at file in his hands. He did wonder whether he was stepping out too far with the way she pursed her lips, though, if he wanted to quench that curiosity of his, might as well take a risk.

"Did something important happen that we should have dinner?" She asks.

Crap. He needs to think of something or else he'll lose this opportunity to snoop— to figure out what was wrong with his friend. Then an idea struck him, though he cringes as he remembered why he hates this particular memory. Urgh.

"We're friends aren't we…?"

"…"

"Oh fine, it's about Logan. He sent an email last night, and I just don't want to be alone." Nigel looks down, trying his best to seem like he was bothered and what he said was partially true, well about the former boyfriend and email part. But the time of the email sent? Incredibly false.

Miranda gives her friend a curt nod at him, which made him practically skip out of the editor's office with joy.

Evening approached rather drolly and Nigel now stands outside Miranda's townhouse with a bottle of Chardonnay— going up the steps, he did feel a bit bad for staging something so that his emotional-repressed friend can tell him whatever it is, is happening in her life.

Miranda greeted him as she opened the door after he knocked, which he greeted back, bussing their cheeks together as he went in. They exchanged pleasantries and discussed lightly about work as they made their way to the dining room, Nigel taking a whiff the closer they got. When they got there, the man could almost drool at the spread, it ranged from the pasta to the salmon plated nicely in a dish— this amount of food and by the looks of it home-cooked no less, made him all the more suspicious because from what he can remember, Miranda couldn't make something this extravagant.

"Wow. I am impressed." Was all he could say, and Nigel swears that he saw practically Miranda glow at the compliment.

As they ate dinner, they talked comfortably, from work and finally to Logan, the very reason why he was 'actually' there. But after the shaky answers he gave her, he could feel the editor grow wary of his true intentions and he feared that the next moment of silence might bust him.

Lo and behold after a minutes passes, he watched as he took a slow sip from her glass, finally levelling her eyes with him, sending chills down his spine— uh oh.

"Say, Nigel… why did you actually want dinner?"

There… it is.

He nervously chuckles. 'Can't a friend ask for comfort—"

"A friend can, however, I have this feeling that there's more to this dinner. Am I wrong?" Miranda murmurs, cutting into her salmon with such sharp intent that made him pull at his collar a bit.

"Well…" He starts, swallowing the building-up lump in his throat, then he sighs defeatedly. "Alright fine. Sure the whole thing about Logan is true but… It's just— lately, you have been coming to Runway in a different mood. Not the one that you had been carrying for weeks after the girls left for university. I was going to ask if something happened, but I know you like your privacy so…"

"So you thought you can use dinner as a guise for you.. snooping? Poking around?"

"I apologise. I know I crossed your boundaries and—"

"I'll have to stop you there Nigel." Miranda interrupts him, a hand up in that way she does when she doesn't want to hear anymore. "Your apologies.. are unnecessary."

The art director blinks once, then twice, as he watches the woman in-front of her actually contemplate her words.

"You are right about my privacy and how I value it, generally, I would've shot you down here, however… You're suspicions aren't false." She mutters, taking another sip from her Chardonnay.

"Wait, really?"

"Really. And I understand why you would have questions, and I.. thank you for your concern, even if they weren't essential." Miranda avoids his eyes, keeping her eyes pointed at the window looking out onto the terrace.

Nigel feels stunned, and a bit warm. Probably from the wine but it could also be from the fact that Miranda outwardly expressed something to him, without waving him off. It was weird, and he hid the smile spread across his face behind his glass as he takes a drink from it, giving her a bashful expression when they make eye contact again, indulging back into dinner with a comfortable silence.

Lighter conversations flowed between them once more, and when they finished, they moved to the living-room, talking about the latest fashion news and raving about potential fashion houses. Then, the front door opened, shutting close soundly, and Nigel could hear light steps at the staircase, and was rather surprised when he sees a young woman standing there with a book in her hand.

"Andrea—" Miranda exhales, a surprise look on her face.

"Oh! Oh my gosh, I didn't know you had guests over.. oh god, I swear I sent you a message about it Miss Miranda." 'Andrea' stammers, her eyes frantically fluttering, and Nigel could swear that he sees dog ears go down and a tail curling into itself, but that could be the alcohol talking.

"What… brings you by?" Miranda finally asks, sitting up straighter, her whole body basically paying full attention to the brunette in the hallway.

Okay, what?

"I just came to return the book you lent me, if I had known you had guests, I would've come at another time. Sorry about that… I'm Andy Sachs, I live across the street." She introduces herself to Nigel, holding a hand out which he met with his own, giving it a firm firm shake before letting go.

"Nigel Kipling, a pleasure to meet you." He smiled, giving Miranda a sly look before sitting back down in his seat.

"Anyways, I don't wanna be anymore of a bother so I'll just head out. Oh, and Bianca wants to ask if you still had some of that charcoal you gave her last time, apparently hers got damaged, or something. I don't really know, but uhh… I'll get going now!" She grins, literally embodying the literal spirit of a golden retriever. "Good night Miss Miranda, Mr. Kipling!"

"Good night dear." Nigel wishes her, finally figuring out pieces to the puzzle that he had been trying to put together all night.

"Good night Andrea." Miranda calls out softly, a warm glow rolling off of her, then Nigel snorted, and suddenly, the air got colder.

The silence between suddenly felt like brittle ice, just waiting for that one moment to break and crumble. Nigel, with the confidence of a man few drinks in, decided to break that very fragile silence.

"So—"

"Don't." Miranda grits out from her teeth, her face warm, one would guess it was because of the alcohol, but Nigel thinks the latter, his smirk giving away every thought, not even attempting to hide it.

"That's was rather interesting..." He mutters, smirking into his glass—happily gratified at the solved puzzle in-front of him, cackling as he watches his friend morph into the personification of blood red Valentino's in real time. "Indulge me here—"

"Oh kill me."

"Aha! Haven't heard that in a while. Just indulge me here my dear friend." Nigel bats his eyes, his stupid smirk clearly irritating Miranda more.

"She's just my neighbour, nothing more."

Nigel hums, his finger tracing the rim of his glass, pondering whether to believe the blatant lie, however, he didn't come this far to be pushed away. "Sounds like there is something though? You are certainly more cheerful lately, and I thought it was because you've come to terms with the twins university but—"

"Whatever you are thinking, drop it. It—" She interrupts him. "It.. there is nothing." Miranda trails off, her true emotions showing on her face, and Nigel felt a pang of guilt— the urge to wack himself right upside the head suddenly felt oh so tempting.

"…Alright." He said, finishing up his drink before getting up from his seat. "Well, anyways, I think it's time for me to get home."

Miranda stands after him, the partially relief on her face making the bald man feel a bit better. Without any further delay, she walks him to the door, the quiet between them a mix of awkward filled with unspoken questions.

As Nigel was outside of the townhouse, he stood there for a bit, contemplating on what to say, or whether to drop the topic, but… the genuine look of turmoil on his friend's face finally made him turn back around. 'Let's hopefully not mess this up.'

"Look. I am here if you need to talk about.. someone… I'm your friend Miranda, let me have the privilege to listen to your woes." He starts, his eyes softening towards his long time friend in-front of him. "Romantic, or otherwise." Nigel adds, earning him an affectionate eye-roll.

"Alright." Miranda nods, her arms crossed as she watches him get into his cab routed back to his apartment.

Nigel watches Miranda shake her head before she went inside, closing the door, through the rear-view mirror, and he smiles at the possibility that the editor might've found something that makes her truly happy.

Miranda was sitting in her living room with Bianca on the floor working on her homework. Her reason? Apparently staring at the same four walls of her bedroom doesn't light that 'flame of inspiration' to complete the creative writing piece that she to hand in a two days time, so her solution was a change of scenery.

AKA: Crashing at her townhouse if Miranda lets her.

Truthfully, Miranda will always let the teen over. Bianca was good company and a good kid, always making sure the place was clean before she left, much to Miranda's chagrin. Plus the teen's presence helped with Miranda's 'empty nest syndrome' as Nigel pointed it out.

Nigel eventually found out about Andy's daughter and looked at her with concern but she waved it off, whoever when he decided to tease her about being "step-mother material, already bonding with the kid", she had almost kicked him in the shin with her Louboutin pumps.

Miranda was brought out from her thoughts when the front door opened and closed, her ears picking up the soft steps as she could hear the ramblings of Andy get louder as she got up the stairs.

"—don't test me… right, as if you can't send it by tonight… I literally saw your screen open with the draft—"

The older woman let the brunette talk on the phone as she moved around, giving Miranda a hug in her seat— which was happening more often, as well as placing a kiss on Bianca's head, before making her way to the pantry, most likely in search of those crackers Miranda kept specifically for Andy.

"Email it in 3 hours, or so help me god, you will be begging for your job back. 3. Hours." Andy seethes, before tapping her screen to hang up the call, falling beside Miranda on the couch, her head leaning on her shoulder.

Andy groaned frustratingly, eating her snack with a pout, and Miranda tried not to crack a smile at the younger woman's antics. Understanding the situation, the older woman let the silence between them settle as Andy's temper simmered down.

Glancing to her side once more, Miranda's eyes meet Andy's as the journalist was already looking up at her, causing her heart to skip a beat. It had been weeks since the editor first experienced the first stomach clenching sensation, to be frank, she was far too old to even be feeling like this, but apparently, being around the older Sachs revived those once juvenile feelings.

And now, every interaction they had one on one, makes Miranda's heart race, and of course, when Nigel figured it out on his own, he didn't let her get away with. Bald old man and his stupid smirk.

"Something on my face?" Miranda asks, The Book in her hands suddenly feeling heavy.

Andy kept staring at her face, the look of frustration slipping away by the second as satisfaction washes over her.

"Nah… Just admiring the view." She whispers, and Miranda swears she saw the look of intimate affection in those brown hues.

When Miranda quickly looked away, forcing her attention to The Book, she heard the brunette chuckle warmly as she got up from her seat, making her way back to the kitchen— most likely to cook whatever is on her mind.

Miranda tried her best, emphasis on tried, however, willpower wasn't enough as her eyes tracked and followed Andy until she disappeared down to the kitchen. Gulping, the editor looked back to the page that she had been stuck on for longer than she liked, and tried as she might, her mind still kept repeating what Andy said to her.

Across her, Bianca snorted, quickly capturing the older woman's attention.

"You guys are too obvious." Was all she said before focusing back down to her paper drafts.

Obvious..?

Us?

Miranda and Andy were talking in the kitchen, getting things ready for dinner, when the front door opened then closed, which confused the two adults, because they knew Bianca was in the living-room but if she ever needed to go somewhere, she would tell them before going.

Nigel wouldn't have come over unannounced, his most plausible reason being:

"I don't want to walk in on something that I wouldn't like." He said with a smug smile, before Miranda kicked him out with reddened ears.

Cautiously, Miranda decided to head down to the foyer, leaving Andy back in the kitchen to watch over the cooking. As Miranda descended the staircase, she hears quiet mumblings of Bianca and two other voices.

"..ink they're in the kitchen right now."

"With your mum right?"

"Pfft— yeah."

"Tell me, are they—"

Two pairs of blue eyes meet Miranda's as she stepped off the last step. There, standing with suitcases at their side, was Cassidy and Caroline. Snow in their hair, noses all rosy pink, smiling widely as they watched her still in her place. Bianca can only grin as she walks back up the stairs to the kitchen, giving Miranda and her daughters privacy.

No words were needed to be exchanged as the twins wrapped themselves tightly around Miranda, inhaling their mother's scent, shoulders relaxing as they all settle within their embrace. Miranda on the other hand tried not to cry as she holds her daughters in her arms again.

Oh she missed them. She really missed them.

"What… How are you girls here? It isn't winter break yet." Miranda says, pulling away from the embrace, her hands still gripped onto the girls' arms.

Caroline nudged a teary eyed Cassidy forward.

"Well, we both finished our exams much earlier than we expected, so we both decided to come home early before break." Cassidy replied, sniffing as she holds her mother's hand in hers.

"I can't believe it…" Miranda whispers, still in disbelief as she looks over the twins.

"By the way… last time I remember, you had no intention of befriending the neighbours mum?" Cassidy smiled, that smug knowing look present on her face and that was when Miranda rolled her eyes, beckoning her daughters to follow her.

"It just happened one day that's all." Miranda mumbles to which her daughters laughed at their mother's weak avoidance.

"To the point where they frequently come over? Okay, mum." Caroline pipes up, Cassidy laughing as she lightly shoved her sister. Miranda continued to ignore her daughters' teasing, shaking her head as they finally approach the kitchen.

Miranda walks in to Andy tossing a risotto in the pan with one hand while the other was resting on her hips loosely, listening to whatever Bianca ranting about the sudden late notice from school. Cassidy looked at the stranger and the younger girl that she met, and wondered how long the two had been coming over and spending time with her mother that they looked natural within their home.

Caroline on the other hand observed her mother and took note at the warmth rolling off of her as she watched the two by the stove. Humming the moment where the other adult turned around, greeting Miranda in surprise.

"Geez! I didn't hear you guys, c'mon I just finished, lemme plate up and then we'll eat."

The Priestly's were turned down when they had asked to help her out, insisting them take place at the table, placing their plates down as she gestures. The twins were silently communicating with each other, their eyes flicking back and forth from Miranda to Andy.

Miranda on her end stuck to watching the brunette move around her kitchen.

"So…" Andy starts, settling down in her seat. "You guys must be Miss Miranda's daughters? I'm Andy Sachs, we're the neighbours across the street."

Caroline nodded, greeting the woman, while Cassidy smiled widely.

"Nice to meet you! I'm Cassidy, and that's Caroline."

"I take it, you've met Bia?" Andy asks, smiling as she looks at the three girls.

"We have." Caroline replied.

"She's great." Cassidy adds, shooting a wink to a grinning Bianca.

"They're cool." Bianca quipped back.

Miranda and Andy then looked at each other with this expression as they watch their girls interact together. They looked… right. For teens who had just met, it looks like they're getting along together very well. Bianca was telling them about their school's drama while the twins told her about their own high-school stories, giving advice for exams.

The two adults looked back at each other and laughed quietly before going back to eating their risotto while listening to the girls laughing and talking.

Andy was by the sink after they finished eating, washing the dishes when Caroline approached Andy with a towel on hand.

The two stood side by side, the brunette washing while the younger girl drying. Truth be told, the kid reminded her of a certain silver-head woman that was currently talking to Bianca with the other twin, so she was rather comfortable with the silence.

"I don't know what your intentions are…" She starts, and suddenly Andy feels like this is important. "But you should ask her out, Cass and I actually want that for her. Plus she hasn't been this happy in a very long time, we can tell that much through our calls."

Andy blushes, her nerves shooting up as she feels eyes on her, glancing sideways, knowing eyes boring into hers. She's serious, Andy realises, though she wondered whether she was that painfully obvious or the kids has got some observation skill.

Clearing her throat, she forced her gaze at the mug cup in her hands.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about." She mumbles, gulping when Caroline hummed out before silence settled between them once more.

However her mind was elsewhere.

Specifically, on someone else.

It was quiet on Miranda's terrace.

Apart from the distant noise of the city, there was a sense of calm that you don't really notice that was there until you acknowledge it. Andy was looking at the city below, watching as she sees cars drive by, cracking a smile when she spotted a group of friends shoving each other. She only came up here because she wanted to give Miranda space and to spend some time with her daughters.

Though, her mind was still on what Caroline told her.

"But you should ask her out, Cass and I actually want that for her."

She was given permission, to apparently ask their mother out. It was a bit jarring since she had just met Miranda's daughters, and they seemingly approve of her right off bat.

"Plus she hasn't been this happy in a very long time."

That last sentence made Andy's heart skip when she heard it. Truth be told, she felt like that too. It had been a very long time since she had felt this content with another person since Nate. Sure there was the occasional date her and there, but it never worked out, plus Bianca never seemed to get along with them.

Ever since moving from Boston, Bianca seemed to flourish in the city's hustle and bustle, she even took to Miranda like fish to water. From that rainy day, Bianca raved about Miranda to Andy for so long as she was drying her daughter's hair, and the brunette just listened, because her daughter of all people, had actually liked someone from the get go. It made Andy smile so warmly that night.

And as days had gone past, Andy's embers of feelings continue to kindle and grow the more time she spent with the older woman. Despite each other's busy schedules, every meet up felt like they had never parted. She hadn't felt like this in a long while, and if what Miranda's daughter told her is true, that flame of hope warmed her to the very cold tips of her fingers.

"Andrea?"

Andy flinched at the voice.

Speak of the devil…

"Hey Miranda, caught up with the kids?" Andy asked nervously, Caroline's talk echoing through her mind.

Was it just her or was Miranda looking like she's glowing for a bit?

"Yes. I'm glad everything is smooth sailing on their end." Miranda mumbled, a lax smile on her face as she joins Andy by the railing.

"That's good." She mutters, her hands fidgetting as she contemplated whether to broach the subject or not.

"You know, I never really got to thank you." Miranda starts, and Andy's breath got caught in her throat as she met Miranda's eyes. Her oh so blue eyes that haunt have haunted her dreams. "For the past few months, you and Bianca had accompanied me when you didn't have to—"

"We wanted to!" Andy cuts in, interrupting the older woman with an awkward smile.

Then Miranda's hand covers hers on the railing.

"Thank you. Truly." She smiles.

Andy suddenly became aware how close they were, like if she were to lean down a bit, she would for sure be able to kiss Miranda and with the way Miranda was staring at her, it felt like the woman was trying to coax her to do it.

She swallowed a lump, her free hand twitching as she feels the air around them buzz with static.

"M-Miss Miranda—"

"Miranda." She cuts in.

"Huh..?" Andy dumbly asks, her heart fluttering as she watched Miranda's eyes soften at her.

"Miranda is my name, and it should be time for you to be calling me by my name. I thought we were friends, unless..?" She trails off, mumbling as she glances from Andy's lips back to her eyes.

Andy gulps, her eyes widening with every second passing.

"Wha-! No! I—"

"No..?" The older woman whispers, stepping closer, like a panther cornering her prey.

"I—" Andy blinks rapidly, stepping back until she hit the corner of the railing with nowhere to go. Oh god this woman will be the death of her, oh hell. "M-Miranda.."

"Yes Andrea?" She mumbles bewitchingly, her eyes now focused only on the brunette's lips, perfume clouding Andy's senses. "What's wrong?"

Oh how she wanted to groan at the husk of the older woman's voice. Andy can already feel Miranda's hand move from her hand, to her bicep, stepping even closer towards the journalist. Andy's free hand subconsciously settles on Miranda's waist as the editor's other hand settles on her chest, her fingers above her hammering heart.

"I really want to do something stupid." Andy whispers, practically breathing into the air between, and yet, Miranda could hear it so vividly.

The brunette sees Miranda's pupils dialate, her throat bobbing, as her hands tighen on her blouse.

"Then what are you waiting for…" Miranda whispers, finally snapping that tension as Andy pulls her by the hips, her other hand letting go of the railing to grasp the hand on her chest.

Then, lips met lips, and Andy could practically melt as she settles within the kiss. It was better than she imagined, way better than her dreams. Miranda was warm, and she could feel herself get warmer as she feels the older woman's lips move agaisnt hers—pulling milimetres apart for air before kissing again, and Andy can feel Miranda's hands settle on the collar of her blouse, pulling her even closer.

A loud honk of a passing car broke their atmosphere and they (unfortunately) pulled away, Andy's hands on Miranda's hips and Miranda's on her chest, both of their faces flushed with warmth and desire coiling in their stomachs.

Despite all the noise out there, all they can hear was the heavy panting of themselves, their lungs trying to catch their breath.

"I take it… one of the girl's told you something?" Andy rasps out, earning a soft laugh from Miranda.

"All three of them told me to 'take action', their reason being, in their word by the way: 'We do not want to witness months of ridiculous and painful pining at one another.'" Miranda chuckles, her fingers tracing the soft material of Andy's collar.

Andy laughs, one of her hands lifting fron the older woman's hips, bringing it up to grasp one of Miranda's hands, placing a light kiss on her knuckles. "I mean they're not too far off… So..?" Andy asks, grinning as she sees Miranda physically melt at the kisses.

"..So?" The editor mumbles questioningly.

"Can we 'take action'? A date perhaps?" Andy smiles, placing a final kiss on the older woman's palm.

Miranda answers by leaning once more, enveloping the brunette in another chaste kiss.

"I'll pay." The older woman whispers when they pull apart, foreheads touching as they hold each other.

Andy laughs warmly between them, her arms finally wrapping around Miranda's waist.

"Alright, if you insist." She whispers, letting the city noise around them bleed as they choose to get lost in each other's gaze.

Just around the corner, three girls descend the staircase together, giving each other high fives as they giggle about the two adults.

"You have no idea how long I had been waiting for this. I was literally one longing-look away from locking them in a room." Bianca sighs, shaking her head as twin sisters pat her back in sympathy.

From the moment she saw her mother and Miranda lock eyes for the first time, she knew the older woman would be around for a very long time, and after seeing her mother's look of genuine warmth, she doesn't mind it, not one bit.