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At twenty three years old, half a year after Paris and four months after her powers appeared, Andy Sachs quits her job and decides to become a freelance journalist. She travels the world not only to chase stories and amplify the voices of those who need it but to find her purpose, make up for lost time and connect with her kryptonian roots. Throughout her journey Andy still keeps a piece of Runway with her.
Constantly, it shows with the useful skills she’s picked up from working with her mentor and for her old employer.
Most times, it is in the form of invisible habits instilled by the cutthroat halls of her previous job.
Though every so often, in specific scenarios and locations, it comes in the shape of her former colleague.
There are moments where she hears in the back of her head, in that posh British accent, how utterly horrid a hat is or how deranged the names of the menu items are in a restaurant Andy stumbles upon.
The thoughts don’t come frequently enough for Andy to put any sort of emphasis on why Emily still pops in her mind. However, their stay sometimes extends, classifying them into almost daydreams in times when Andy is not occupied.
Andy never really kept in touch with Emily, their last proper interaction being the one after Paris, a few days after giving her collection of Chanel away to her. There was one voicemail she received from Emily that only consisted of 7 seconds of silence then the rustling of papers and quiet mutterings she couldn't quite understand before abruptly ending.
She concludes it was Emily pocket dialing her after deliberating if it was her way —the way that Emily usually goes about any form of vulnerability— of reaching out again to Andy.
Andy would welcome any attempt of Emily contacting her. She likes Emily and thinks she’s brilliant, though her uncertainty of whether it was ever reciprocated holds her back from trying to return the call.
Eventually, Andy lets enough time pass by, the window to call back closing shut. She does not let herself dwell on the missed connection (if there even was one). She moves forward, some small hope latching on, lingering for a bit until the months slowly bury it.
After seven years of traveling the world doing freelance journalism and helping the people in need, Andy settles back into New York with her newfound purpose. Shortly after, she takes on the Superwoman mantle, donning the iconic reds and blues.
Thirteen years after returning to New York, she encounters someone from the past. Andy and Emily meet again, two decades after their last phone call.
They do not reconcile in a cafe re-meet cute, having to share one table at the only place near enough their jobs that makes the best —or good enough according to one particular individual — flat white and decent —unanimously agreed upon by both parties— selection of pastries.
They don't attend an event they both agreed to partake in, surrounded by important people whose positions mattered more than their names before finding the only familiar face in a sea of networking and schmoozing crowd.
Instead, they reunite on a very windy day, a long way above from the safety of the Manhattan streets — safety already being relative to multiple factors and weather conditions — with one held hostage and tied to a pillar.
Andy hears about a robbery taking place in a bank and a hostage situation at the top of the building through her superhearing and is immediately on her way. She focuses her eyes to assess the situation.
The rooftop is littered with building materials, all left there because its construction is on hold for the moment. Bags of cement stay on one side, metal rods stacked on top of each other and unfinished concrete pillars rise from all the sides and corners of the building. In its colorless, unfinished state, Andy notices the familiar shade of auburn hair billowing through the strong winds you frequently fight with at this height.
It takes Andy no less than a second to cross the distance.
The path of the wind changes course towards Andy's, forcing the other woman to turn her head in the same direction, her eyes fluttering shut from the intensity. This grants Andy a clear view of her face.
"Bloody hell." Emily mutters in an inconvenienced tone.
On the corner of the unfinished rooftop, bound to a pillar, shoulder length hair tossing around her cheeks, wearing a practical but stylish black cashmere turtleneck that Andy swears she’s seen before, is her former Runway colleague.
"Emily?!"
Emily's eyes open wide as the winds take mercy upon her and ceases for a moment. She takes in the vibrant blues and reds and the very noticeable crest on Andy's chest.
"Superwom—“ Emily pauses, eyes narrowing, making her brows draw together.
"Wait, how do you know my name?"
Andy blinks a few times as it dawns on her. She realizes, a little too late to matter, that she just blurted out Emily’s name.
For the better part of thirteen years, she’s learned to keep her guard up to guarantee the concealment of this identity. Even before becoming superwoman, she has laid low for the entirety of her life. She’s always kept the people she’s met at arms length, save for a few. Andy does still value human connection after all.
Emily looks intently at Superwoman as she waits for an answer.
Andy’s eyes dart around, avoiding any direct eye contact with her before deciding to land next to the pillar Emily is tied to.
She is forced to look at Emily anyway. “There’s no time.”
“That sounds like an excuse.” Emily says, skeptical.
“It’s the truth.” She replies, looking at the ropes, grateful for another reason to look away.
“Those are not mutually exclusive.”
Andy gears up her heat vision to burn the ropes but before she fully could, a feeling of discomfort washes over her whole body. This is not the kind of discomfort that’s caused by the current predicament she landed herself in but by something she’s always dreaded of feeling again.
Her eyes close shut, only managing to burn a section of the ropes. Her face scrunches up, the kind of expression someone makes when dealing with a migraine.
“Are we sure this is enough to hold off superwoman?” Andy hears a medium raspy voice say by the rooftop entrance.
“You stupid? Don’t touch that with your bare hands. And this is enough to lower her to her knees.” A man with a rough, lower register says.
Light dizziness and nausea come next, preventing Andy from listening any further. Her step falters and she wobbles a bit.
Just as Andy thinks things are about to get worse, she starts feeling the symptoms fading. Though not all at once, it is enough for her to outwardly show that there is nothing wrong. When Andy opens her eyes, she spots the look of concern on Emily’s face that only stays for a fraction of a second before it returns to a neutral expression.
The metal door swings and makes contact with the wall, eliciting a loud clang that makes Andy turn her head. She sees four men all wearing clothing in various shades of black and grey walk out.
One of them catches Andy’s eye, a young looking guy, not older than eighteen she presumes, shorter than all of them. He’s trying very hard to look taller, posture straight as a board. He still looks out of place.
The largest man among them sports a hood with a beanie underneath, wearing black gloves and holding a square container on his left hand. The other three all carry duffel bags in one hand and sub machine guns on the other.
She strains to use her x-ray vision and finds she can't see through the box. As if that wasn’t enough trouble, Andy sees a device that resembles a detonator inside the man’s jacket.
“She’s here!” The young guy announces.
The hooded man spots Andy near Emily. He clutches the container tighter and sprints while the other men raise their guns toward the hero. The unwell feeling that hasn't fully passed and the lead cube immediately puts her on high alert, one wrong move could send Emily into danger. She does not have enough time to untie Emily, opting instead to soar a bit higher and distance herself from the rooftop with greater effort than usual.
"The police have the whole perimeter surrounded. It's not too late to surrender yourselves.” She tries to bargain, the strain on her voice is very evident.
"You're not in any position to tell us what to do, Superwoman." He opens the lead box, a soft green glow emanating from inside. He plucks the kryptonite and holds it high towards Andy’s direction.
It is only roughly the size of a nine millimeter bullet but it is enough to incapacitate and injure Superwoman. In the worst scenario, it would be enough to end her own life.
As Andy’s body absorbs the sun’s radiation, helping her recover from the initial exposure, she starts to assess the whole situation, thinking of ways to get rid of the kryptonite without putting Emily’s safety at risk. With the way it’s positioned, using heat vision or freeze breath will not remove the kryptonite but merely take it out of the man’s hand, rendering it still futile to try to get close.
She thinks about untying Emily with heat vision and instructing her to jump so Andy can catch her but even a half a second of hesitation from Emily could give the men enough time to hold her back, or worse— She doesn’t let the thought continue.
“We only have one very simple demand, our guaranteed escape. I don’t care how it’s done so long as we’re in one piece with all the cash in hand.” The man says in a very cocky tone.
“I won’t lie, I'm not sure the police would be inclined to accept your demands.”
“I'll give that homework to you then.”
“Maybe something can be worked out if you let this innocent woman go.”
Andy is fully aware that the answer will be no but she's trying to stall for just a bit more time to get back in top shape.
“I'm not stupid superwoman. You see, it's actually both of your faults that she's up here right now.”
A lump forms in Andy's throat, mind racing with all the possibilities. She questions what he meant and if the man knew of her identity or Emily's past connection to her.
She tries to calm herself down and thinks of ways to fix the situation, to bargain, but her mind wanders to all the possible mistakes she's made leading up to this, all the times she's been careless, nearly sending herself into a spiral.
She'd like to believe that none of her thoughts make it past that it would present itself outwardly but she is not sure anymore.
“Hold on, are you pertaining to the incident a while ago? Did you choose to take me as a hostage because I called you out?” Emily says, looking exasperatedly at the man.
All the thoughts bubbling up in Andy's head pop.
“You were—”
“This is astonishing.” Emily interjects before the man could get three words in.
“I'm not following.” Andy says, confused.
“He jumped the queue and attempted to cut in front of me. I was not having it and told him to go back to the end of the line. It's basic decency.”
Andy imagines how the scenario might have played out, pictures Emily going up to a large man and confronting him about his disregard for social etiquette.
With all the courage of someone coming from their very demanding and stressful job and then needing to make a simple transaction that somehow ends up taking forty whole minutes because of a system error.
Andy would have found it amusing if it hadn’t turned out like this.
The man visibly starts getting impatient. “If you hadn't made a scene, you wouldn't be up here. You nearly ruined the plan. And if you” — he points to Superwoman— “weren't such a meddling bitch then we wouldn't have needed to take a hostage.” He practically shouts.
Emily shakes her head. “Can you believe this, superwoman?” she scoffs. “I cannot fathom how ill-conceived your plan must be if it was that easy to derail.”
The man’s face flushes red as he loses his temper. He gets up in Emily’s face. “ You better shut your mouth now or else.”
Emily keeps a neutral expression, looking weirdly calm despite the situation she is currently in. She holds his gaze for a second or two then glances at Superwoman. She heeds the man’s warning and doesn’t reply back.
“Good.” The man looks toward Andy again. “You better make sure you or the police don’t try anything or she’ll get it.” He tilts his head towards Emily’s direction and draws his hand across his neck.
Andy’s expression shifts, her head tilting down to accentuate her cold glare. “What makes you think I’ll let you do that?”
“Ooo what a scary look you got there, Superwoman. I didn't mean to rile you up.” He’s gone back to sounding smug.
Andy composes herself and remembers that losing control of her emotions will be of no help and will only make it harder to think rationally. Just as she takes a deep breath, she feels the last of the radiation leave her system. She loses the glare and rearranges her expression to be unreadable.
"So what's the big plan with the bombs? You planning to go down with the building if they don't meet your demand?” Andy asks.
"Of course you had to ruin the surprise.” He chuckles.
The young man’s posture falters, lowering his gun. “Wait wha— bombs? You didn’t tell me about this.
The hooded guy turns his head towards him. ”Because I knew you’d be overreacting like this.”
“You said this would be easy cash. I didn’t sign up for this, I didn’t— I don’t wanna die!” He shouts, visibly panicked.
It’s not a pretty sight to watch what’s basically a kid, grapple with the gravity of the situation he landed himself in. He shouldn’t have to resort to doing dangerous things like this for any reason, though Andy acknowledges that the current system doesn’t do a good job at keeping people away from turning to crime.
Out of nowhere, Andy suddenly comes up with a very risky plan. She makes sure to take everything into account before bracing to enact it. While the argument continued, Superwoman suddenly appears in front of the hooded man. Already feeling the consequences of the close contact and exposure to kryptonite, she knows she has one shot to execute this quickly and must do it perfectly.
In one swift movement, Andy first uses her heat vision to finally cut the ropes loose while simultaneously taking the lead container from the man’s left hand and opening the lid with her thumb. She slaps the man's right hand causing the kryptonite to fly out of his grip, quickly swipes the airborne kryptonite with the lead container and closes the lid.
For good measure, she twists the top part of the container so it would be impossible to open, turning it into some deformed cube.
With the last of her strength, Andy takes the man by the cowl of the jacket and hurls him towards the two men, making them all topple and rendering one of them unconscious.
Andy manages to do everything in just two seconds, not giving anyone any time to react and managing to avoid any direct skin contact with the kryptonite. Still, all the symptoms she experienced briefly, come back a bit worse because of the closer proximity.
She tries her best to keep herself upright, her knees almost buckling, breathing heavily as sweat pools on her scrunched up brows, burning sensation coursing through her body. She still needs to buy time so she can absorb enough of the sun to use some of her powers again.
The young guy instinctively aims the gun at Andy but does not pull the trigger. He looks utterly terrified now. Andy keeps her attention towards him and realizes too late that one of the men has already recovered with his gun already pointed towards her.
Andy blinks and all of a sudden she is sent tumbling down and sliding towards the sacks of cement powder by a force from her right side. Gunshots go off around her, punching holes on the bags and causing the cement to spill slowly. She feels a weight on top of her. She opens her eyes to see Emily.
Emily doesn’t move right away. Andy holds her breath, fearing the worst, she hesitantly taps her on the shoulder. Emily groans and rolls off of Andy.
The fear and adrenaline coursing through Andy almost rivals the kryptonite radiation in her system. She sits and helps Emily up as well. Every time a bullet hits a sack, they both instinctively lower their heads and slightly flinch.
Andy’s hands begin hovering over Emily’s skin, frantically checking her for any sign of injury, wound or gunshot.
“Are you hurt? Were you shot?” The words rapidly spill out from Andy.
Emily puts both hands on top of Andy’s, gently pushing it down and back towards her. “You have got to calm down. I am intact.” She says with a hint of annoyance in her tone.
The harshness in her voice is inconsistent with her previous gesture.
Andy finally releases the breath she’s unknowingly been holding, but frustration quickly overlays on top of worry.
“Why would you do that?” Andy doesn’t yell but the agitation is still very evident in her voice.
Emily’s eyes narrow, pulling her hands back to cross her arms. “I’m sorry, should I have just watched them spray you with bullets and let you perish?”
“You could have died! I would have been” —she grunts because of the pain— ”fine.” She strains to say as she turns away.
It’s a very clear lie. With her current state, the bullet would have likely pierced her skin and injured her. She would have taken that over the possibility of Emily getting hurt.
“Oh yes, I’m thoroughly convinced that you would have been in excellent condition.”
Andy can feel Emily’s eyes still on her. She takes a big breath in and exhales.
She turns to face Emily again. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have blown up on you.”
“Thank you for saving me but please don’t do that again.” Andy flashes her an apologetic smile.
Emily seems to be slightly taken aback but recovers quickly. “Right, you’re welcome.” She says softly and quietly that if Andy weren’t paying attention she might’ve missed it.
Andy suddenly remembers about the bombs. The firing stops for a moment. She takes this as an opportunity to pop her head up to check on the man with the detonator.
He is about to stand up, hood now off his head but the beanie is still in place. He clutches his head with one hand while the other checks his pocket. The gunfire resumes, forcing Andy to lower her head again.
She tries to look around for anything to throw but finds that there is nothing but the lead container. Slightly panicked, in immense pain, and running on adrenaline and sheer will, Andy decides to fling it towards the man with the beanie.
She stands up the moment the gunshots stop again and throws it with all the force she can muster, aiming for the head. But because of the dizziness and all the other symptoms, her accuracy is heavily reduced. She hits the guy next to him instead and knocks him out cold. The lead container bounces off and rolls away from the men.
The man with the beanie recoils but quickly becomes aware of Andy. He picks up the gun and starts shooting causing her to duck right away. He only fires in quick intervals, stopping very frequently. Andy, finding this strange, once again looks over to observe. She sees the guy desperately fiddling through every pocket.
It dawns on Andy that the detonator must have fallen off when she threw him. She searches the surrounding area and locates it near the stack of metal beams. The man seems to have realized soon after as well and spots it immediately, advancing towards it.
Andy looks back towards Emily and sees the cement powder pooling beside her. An idea pops into her head. A flash of recognition crosses Emily’s face
Emily lowers her head. “What are you planning?” She says with much skepticism.
Andy takes a fistful of cement powder. “Stay put and stay low.”
She moves before she finishes the sentence, running — and almost tripping — towards the detonator. The man notices her but before he could even properly point his gun, Andy tosses the dry cement towards his eye, the wind aiding her by blowing it towards his direction, impairing him for a moment.
As a consequence, he accidentally pulls the trigger, causing the gun to shoot erratically. A bullet grazes Andy’s cheek making it bleed, warm blood dripping down her cheeks to her neck. Andy hisses from the additional pain but continues on.
Andy gets closer and holds the gun by the barrel, pushing it downwards then striking the guy on the solar plexus. This knocks the wind out of him, making him wheeze and causing him to let go of the gun. Andy seizes the opportunity to toss it far. She quickly bends down to take hold of the detonator on the floor.
The man with the beanie recovers and tugs on Superwoman’s cape, dragging her closer and greeting her face with his knee.
It lands, smudging the blood on her face. She groans in pain and stumbles backward. The detonator falls out of her grasp and rolls further away from them, towards the bags of dry cement.
She luckily falls right next to the lead container. She retrieves it and balls her fist over it to aid her next move. She stands up, still a bit wobbly, and lunges towards him. Andy tackles him towards the stack of metal rods causing some of them to fall off, scraping and clattering on the floor.
Andy is positioned on top of him and winds up to punch. She gets two hits on his face, almost breaking his nose, before the man uses his forearms to block the third blow. He retaliates by kicking her on the stomach.
She staggers backwards, looking very pained and almost retching. She swallows hard to fight the urge to throw up while she follows closely behind the man.
He sprints towards the detonator and gets his hand on it. Andy pulls him by the hood of his jacket making him reel backwards. She takes the opening to hook his ankle, twisting her upper body to mess up his center of gravity.
He tries to keep himself from falling backwards with and overcompensates, making himself topple forward. The detonator flies off from his hold and lands behind Andy. She swoops in to try and take it again.
With her attention on the device, Andy fails to notice the guy setting his sights on Emily.
“Get the hell away from me.” Emily shouts at the man.
Her attention finally shifts to where Emily was supposed to be. Andy sees the man, already too close for comfort, dashing towards her. Emily tries to flee but he manages to catch her by the hem of her turtleneck, a resounding sound of fabric ripping follows after.
Emily fumes. “You bloody bastard! This is vintage Chanel for crying out loud!”
“I don't give a damn.”
Andy still instinctively tries to run towards Emily but she stops in her tracks soon after. The man gets to Emily and puts her in a chokehold with his shoulder. He drags her towards the edge of the building with Emily struggling to try and break free.
“You need that cash right? Make yourself useful for once and shoot her now while she’s still vulnerable. ” The man shouts at the young guy.
Andy only turns her head slightly, not wanting to fully lose sight of Emily. In her periphery, she sees the young man aiming his gun towards her. She doesn’t need superhearing to know of how conflicted he feels.
“You don’t have to do this, kid. I know you don’t want to hurt anyone.”
“‘I’m not a kid.”
“Shoot her now!” The man insistently yells.
Andy pays him no mind. “You’re still young. You have your life ahead of you. Don’t throw it all away.”
Andy’s breaths are still uneven, exhausted from the scuffle and continuous pain. She hopes she can get through to him, not wanting to be forced to defend herself against him.
Eventually, after what feels like a lifetime, the young guy lowers his gun. Andy gives him a smile and a nod, acknowledging his choice.
“You’re useless! I should have never brought you along.”
“Wow, who would’ve thought bringing a child along to a bank heist would prove to be a moronic idea.” Emily quips.
The man clenches his jaw tightly, brows furrowed so tightly and a vein throbs rhythmically on his temple. He is absolutely furious. Andy matches the glare and keeps her eyes locked with him.
“I told you she would get it if you tried anything.” He twists his upper body, yanking Emily closer to the drop below, one foot already off the edge. “I keep my promises.”
He lets go of Emily’s neck and pushes her off the building.
Emily shrieks.
Andy is already in motion, screaming Emily’s name at the top of her lungs, fear surging through her.
She dives after her, not caring that she hasn’t recovered enough to fly properly. There’s a big distance between her and Emily. Andy stretches her hands towards Emily, trying to close the gap and tries to speed up her fall by flying. Andy makes it to her. She clutches her by the waist with her free hand and secures her neck and head, embracing her closer to avoid harm from any abrupt stops.
Once Andy’s sure she has her on a proper hold, she quickly adjusts her position and carries Emily, one arm under her legs and the other supports her back and holding Emily’s arm tightly. She is struggling to float
“It’s gonna be a bit turbulent. You might wanna hold on tigh—” She tries to say in a lighter tone but before Andy could finish her sentence, Emily is already holding on for dear life, burying her head against Andy’s neck and tightly clutching her shoulders, a little yelp escaping from her.
“Oh! Yeah, just like that. Good.” Andy mumbles, surprised by the show of vulnerability from the other woman.
The nausea and weakness is really making it more difficult to control her flight, swaying, unsteady and abruptly dropping from time to time, as she tries to get Emily safely down. She attempts to slow their descent to the best of her ability but she realizes that their landing would most likely not be very graceful.
She twists her whole body to have Emily above her, planning to absorb all the impact when they get down. Andy wraps both arms securely on Emily, careful not to squeeze her too tightly.
They hit the ground at an angle making them skid on the street, the initial landing slightly breaking the asphalt with small cracks following along their direction. Andy groans from the pain, her back and side taking the brunt of everything.
They quickly start slowing down, stopping just in front of a parked police car, Andy’s head lightly hitting the tire. She loosens her grip on Emily and lifts her head to check up on her.
Emily lies on top of her torso with her head buried on Andy’s chest. She watches Emily snap her head up, wide eyed with a mixture of emotions Andy can’t all name.
"Are you alright?"
"Are you?" Emily retorts with an almost panicked inflection, her pitch a bit higher than usual.
"Just—” Another groan escapes her lips. Andy retries and clears her throat— “just a scratch." A lopsided smile plasters her face.
She may have a concussion. Not a big concern knowing it’ll heal when he’s fully recovered from the kryptonite.
Emily gives Andy a look, now visibly perplexed and in disbelief.
Andy uses her left arm to prop herself up, assisting the woman on top of her at the same time, one hand on Emily's back. Both of them are seated now, with Emily positioned in between Andy’s legs.
They are only a few inches apart. Andy can’t determine if she’s able to sense Emily’s heart beating rapidly because of her super-hearing or due to their current position, torso’s pressed against each other, Emily’s ragged breath on her neck.
The policemen stationed nearby instantly run to their location, asking if they are okay. Emily has to politely inform the concerned individuals that they are fine because Andy does not notice them.
Andy's attention shifts to the building, There are still numerous bombs inside that she needs to extract. She carries Emily and sets her down just next to her.
"Hold this for me, will you?" Andy says as she hands the lead container to Emily. She hesitantly takes it.
As soon as it leaves her hand, Andy stands up, torso swaying to one side before she fixes her balance. She informs the police about the bombs and to potentially evacuate people from nearby buildings.
She then immediately soars, pushing past her current limit. She soaks the sun’s radiation in, feeling her cells regenerating, aware of all the inner workings in her body. All the symptoms from the exposure will likely go away with just a moment’s wait, but she does not have any time to spare.
Andy reaches the top of the building to find both men arguing. The larger man walks towards the detonator. The young guy has his gun aimed at him.
“Don’t get any closer or I’ll shoot.”
The man does not pay him any mind, continuing to walk closer. “You’re all talk. If you’re gonna shoot, you would have done it already. He taunts.
He’s only a short distance now from the detonator. The young guy stands firm, looking more resolute compared to how he was before but looking just as terrified. The gun he holds slightly shakes, index finger slowly inching towards the trigger, knuckles white from holding the grip too tightly.
Recognition washes over the man’s face, as he comprehends too late that he had miscalculated. The young guy reflexively closes his eyes as he pulls the trigger, a continuous stream of bullets zip through, rapidly roaring.
A pathetic mixture of a cry and scream comes out of the man, instinctively lowering to his knees and balling up to protect his body. He does not realize right away that none of the bullets hit him.
Andy stands tall in front of the man, looking a million times better. The smeared blood still sits on her cheek but the wound has fully disappeared. The bullets have no effect and just bounces off of her body.
The young man opens his eyes and upon seeing superwoman, stops the gunfire. He looks down towards the gun and drops it to the floor, slightly backing away. He raises his hands immediately, looking like he wants to say something but unable to find the words.
Andy speaks first. “I know you tried to do what you thought was right but you don’t need any blood on your hands clinging to you for the rest of your life.”
She then turns around to see the man still trying to reach for the detonator. Andy holds him by the cowl of his hoodie and knocks him out with one punch.
She looks back towards the young man. “He was kinda getting on my nerves.” She says with an apologetic smile.
Andy wraps up the debrief with the deputy after handing the criminals and the young man away. After finding out that he still had a month before he turned eighteen, Andy had vouched for the young man and successfully helped him avoid being tried as an adult. They exchange a few more thank yous and no problems before he excuses himself and leaves her alone.
She scans the perimeter once and instantly catches sight of Emily by the lone ambulance. She stands there, diligently letting the paramedic check her for any injuries while trying —and failing — to balance a phone on her right ear before relenting and putting it on speaker instead.
Andy overhears Emily insisting to the paramedic that she's fine and only has some mild rope burns on her arm. She also hears a tiny worried voice coming from Emily’s phone.
“Burns?! Did you catch on fire mum?” A little girl exclaims concernedly.
“No bunny, mummy was not on fire. Everything's alright, okay?” Emily assures, in a very soft and gentle tone.
It dawns on Andy that she is eavesdropping and that this is generally frowned upon. She stops focusing her super-hearing towards Emily and gives her some privacy. Though, Andy can’t help but take note of the new information that Emily has a child now.
Satisfied with the inspection, the paramedics give Emily some final instruction, an approving nod, then moves on to a different person. At the same time, Emily says a quick thank you to the EMT before she is out of earshot and finishes up her call, putting the phone away in her pocket.
Emily turns to look at the group of men being ushered away by police, expression flat and merely observing, one hand lightly holding her wrist.
Against Andy's better judgement, she starts making her way towards Emily’s direction.
It's to make sure she's okay. Andy convinces herself.
Emily seems to catch her in her periphery.
"Rest assured, they won't be bothering you anymore Em—” Andy stops herself and clears her throat— “miss.” She corrects, a small smile forming. Second time's the charm she supposes.
Emily does not immediately reply, eyes almost squinting suspiciously while holding Andy’s gaze.
Andy blinks a few times, thinks up maybe four excuses to get away but ultimately decides to hold her ground.
"You never answered my question."
Andy bites back a grimace and succeeds. "What questio—"
Emily crosses her arms. "How do you know my name?"
Andy is aware that passing it off as something Emily misheard will not work knowing how observant she is. She did not have enough time to conjure any sort of convincing lie for how she knew Emily’s name.
Like clockwork, before the pause becomes too suspicious, Andy recalls reading an article about Emily in a fashion magazine she picked up on the way to Germany. It surprised her then to find out that Emily had left Runway knowing how much she revered the place, or more accurately, Miranda priestly. Curious as she may be, Andy chooses not to mention anything about her previous employment and employer.
"I read a feature piece about you in vogue once. I'm very into fashion, you see." Andy finally says smoothly, as if her heart is not about to beat out of her chest.
Emily cocks an eyebrow and tilts her head. "Are you?"
Emily’s eyes settle on Andy’s face, slowly moving to the logo brandished just under the collarbones, then down to her golden belt before seemingly fixating on what's below it for a moment longer. A moment too long.
Andy finally follows her line of sight. The hand on her hip falls as realization hits. Her stance shifts to have both of her hands clasped in front.
Emily stiffens as it dawns on her where and how long she was looking, the tips of her ears flushing a mild pink.
"Just so we're clear, it was not my intention to look at your crotch"
"Okay"
"It wasn't." Emily’s brows knit a tight line in between.
"You're still looking." Andy says, trying not to laugh.
“Well I wouldn’t be if you weren’t wearing your red spandex outside for everybody to gawk at.”
Emily’s eyes dart up to meet Andy's then back down to the piece of fabric she’s taken offense to.
“Very interesting choice for someone who’s ‘into’ fashion, dare I say.”
Andy senses the clear judgement in Emily's tone, sending her into a fit of laughter.
20 years. Still as blunt as ever.
“I’m sorry?” she offers as her laughs die down.
Emily scoffs and does not look at Andy. She continues to inspect the other aspects of Andy’s suit— the high collar, then the cape— revealing no sort of strong opinion over them.
Lastly, her attention lands on the crimson thigh high boots. Emily does a quiet hum of approval and a nod small enough to be imperceptible to regular people. Andy can't help but feel a sense of déjà vu for some reason.
Emily looks back up to make eye contact. Andy can't help but retreat and look down. She tries her best to do so in a way that doesn't quite look like withdrawal. If it is effective, she does not know.
Andy normally is very proficient at maintaining eye contact. She has stared down politicians, men who can have her killed — or think they can have her killed — during her work as a journalist. Under the current scrutinizing gaze of Emily Charlton, she buckles.
"I really am interested in fashion, I've followed quite a bit of couture shows overseas actually." Andy says, lifting her head back up and flashing her a confident grin.
Emily does not reply, ready to continue her little game of locking eyes.
"I just don't have the opportunity to shop around for anything new, y'know with all the" —Andy rambles, sweeping her hand over herself and then to the space around her, trying to make a point that she's not even sure of herself— “secret identity and the whole making sure I am of service to the people in need.” She ends with a shrug.
“Secret identity?” Both of Emily’s eyebrows slightly raise.
Andy's smile drops and what little bravado she was outwardly showing falls through.
There have been many theories about her superhero persona, some speculating that she’s a famous Hollywood actress, others saying that she doesn't have an alter ego and just goes around as superwoman at all times. A lot of people think it would be impossible for anyone to have not recognized her by now since she doesn’t really hide her face. Though, the most popular guess is that she has a hidden identity, Andy has been careful to not confirm or reveal anything about it when interviewed.
She supposes there's still enough time to retract her statement, improvise a story or a joke about what she had just revealed. Before Andy can stutter her way into fully divulging who she is, Emily speaks.
“If you're not capable of keeping a secret as simple as this, might you consider shutting your mouth.” Emily says in a deadpan tone.
Andy's lips form a tight line, her expression showing a clear sign of distress now. The joke does not land, the air between them getting heavier.
After a few seconds of silence, Emily sighs and rolls her eyes.
“Stop your whole” —she twirls her hand towards Andy— “ anguished, wet puppy look.”
The absurdity of the last statement coming from Emily is nearly sufficient in fully disarming Andy, shoulders dropping by a fraction.
“I’ll have you know, it is beneath me to go out there and disclose all this to some random tabloid website. Your business is your business.”
Andy fully relaxes, exhaling a long breath she was holding, the atmosphere returning to a lighter feel. She assumed before that Emily would never really be the type to share whatever was accidentally revealed today but the knowledge of anyone knowing she has a true identity, apart from her parents, still made her feel anxious.
Still, Andy is grateful for Emily’s assurance. Her smile returns, dimples showing through.
“I’ll be more careful. Thank you.” Andy says earnestly.
“Do try not to reveal anymore information next time. Gods, I pray it’s actually not this easy to get details about your secret life out of you.” Emily adds.
“Next time, huh? Let's hope we meet in better circumstances then.”
“Right, I've had my fill of being a hostage, damsel in distress for a lifetime.”
The city continues to move around them, the familiar red and blue lights alternating in a rhythmic beat behind, as police hold off barricades to keep people from swarming the small contained area. A crowd has formed, some chanting, trying to get the hero's attention.
A flash goes off occasionally in Emily and Andy’s direction, brightening her cape and the red in the emblem on her chest. The gleam catches Emily's hair and turns it fiery for an instant. Andy can’t help but look fondly. She has missed seeing this specific shade of red.
Emily does not pay the buzz around them any mind and continues to look at Andy. After a moment, she slowly turns away, her gaze lingering a moment longer on Andy.
Her full attention shifts to look for her purse in the ambulance, relief making her shoulders fall a bit after immediately catching sight of the item that's probably worth 3 months of Andy's pay. Emily sifts through whatever was inside.
Andy spots the ripped hem of Emily's turtleneck shirt.
“Too bad about the shirt huh? It looks expensive.”
“The price is not really of concern.”
Andy wishes she could say that the price of something did not matter at some point in life as well but alas.
“It was given to me by… someone.” Emily stops to think. “A coworker, from ages ago. I can’t quite recall all the details.”
Andy finally understands why the shirt looked so familiar. It was part of the Chanel collection she gave to Emily twenty years ago.
“I can’t believe you kept it all this time.” The thoughts spill out before her brain could process it happening.
Emily does not suspect anything.
“Of course.” She says as if there’s no possibility of her ever having thought otherwise. “I mean it’s Chanel, who would be stupid enough to give that away.” She adds. It ends up sounding like an afterthought.
Emily seems to finally find what she’s looking for.
She spins to face Andy once more, card between her two fingers. Emily extends her hand to Andy’s direction and waits expectantly.
Andy, confused, takes the handed card.
The paper feels velvety and soft to the touch, It has a sleek, minimalist look in trianon grey, with Dior embossed in the middle in its signature font. Andy turns the card around to see Emily's full name and contact information written on the lower left of the space.
“Are you giving me your number?” Andy, who is still lost, tries to jest.
“Yes.” Emily says with a straight face.
Andy now looks like someone whose brain just short-circuited, which is not entirely inaccurate. There’s an eighty percent chance it might actually have because she is unable to come up with any sort of intelligible response.
“Oh.” The only thing that Andy manages to say.
“Before you get your red spandex in a twist, I’ll assure you now that this is all professional.”
Andy wouldn't say that she was disappointed at the clarification because she really wasn't but she also felt no relief. It only left her more confused.
“Professional?” She tilts her head.
“You were complaining about your lack of access to fashion stores—“
“I wasn't complaining.” Andy mumbles.
“—just now due to your unique predicament.” Emily finishes, paying no mind to what Andy tried to say. “This is the solution I'm offering.”
Andy looks at the business card and then goes back to looking at Emily.
“I still don't get it.”
Emily closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose. “What I'm trying to say is that you can contact me if you want to expand your wardrobe and I’ll have the store arranged so you can do it privately and that you would not be bothered by anyone.”
“By privately… you mean just the two of us?”
“Yes, unless you'd rather accidentally reveal your secret to one of my assistants next?”
“You don’t have to go through the trouble.”
“I am fully aware. This is simply to even out the odds.”
That small detail at the end of Emily’s sentence clarifies everything for Andy. This is Emily’s way of saying thank you.
Andy has noticed, back when they worked together, that Emily tends to show her gratitude in more subtle ways. It was her post-it note being replaced before she even realized it was almost out because Andy had promised she would do a good job and left nothing for Emily to clean up, giving Emily the opportunity to clock out early for once. It was her exact coffee order appearing on her desk the morning after she stayed up late with Emily to help with some paperwork because she mentioned she had plans that night. Embarrassingly, she only noticed this trait after the fourth time something similar happened.
The only outlier and direct thank you she got was when Emily was battling some form of cold or flu, a fever with a temperature of 100.4°F and only being sustained by a cube of cheese. Emily herself would probably not count it considering the circumstances. Andy does.
Despite Andy seriously considering the offer, she knows how risky it could be. The internet nowadays can be a very vicious place, with tabloid websites acting like vultures and grasping at the tiniest scraps to turn into sensational news that the netizens can eat up.
Though it is rare for them to get the opportunity to take pictures because of her speed and agility, rumors have spread when she’s not able to evade the cameras. They would have a field day with any out of context image of superwoman being alone with another person.
It would also just be a general hazard to Emily’s safety. Superwoman has made countless enemies over the years. It’s not a surprise that any of her enemies would do anything to get to her by any means they can get their hands on.
Superwoman wants to kindly reject the offer but Andy Sachs, in all honesty, wants the opposite.
“I’m not–”
"Save your excuses," Emily holds up a finger, "you're free to do whatever you want. You can be on your way and either choose to contact me or throw the card away. I couldn’t care less.”
They stare at each other for a few seconds, with Andy tapping the corner of the business card while Emily continuously rotates the ring on her index finger. After a beat, Andy secures the card inside her sleeve. Emily stops fidgeting with her ring.
“Okay. I’ll consider it.”
“I do not need the assurance.”
“I know.” Andy says with a small smile.
Andy supposes this is a good time to segue into an exit.
“I don’t wanna take up your time any longer so I’ll be taking my leave.” Andy says as she starts walking away, raising her hand to wave at Emily.
“Hang on. Aren't you forgetting something?”
Emily fishes out the box —if it is still classified as that— from her pocket, all bent and inconsistent.
Andy looks apologetic and slightly embarrassed with all the fumbling she's been doing in front of the other woman. She walks over slowly, her hand coming up to scratch a non-existent itch on the back of her neck.
“This is starting to look embarrassing.”
“We crossed that line ages ago.” Emily says, not quite smiling but still evidently amused.
Emily begins rotating the container in her hand, thumb brushing over the uneven bumps and ridges, careful not to get it caught on the jagged areas. Andy just lets her, watching curiously.
“So this... thing inside, it hurts you”.
It's said as a statement instead of a question yet Andy still answers.
“It does.”
“Hmm,” Emily hums, “quite risky handing it to a random stranger don't you think.”
“Fair point. You're not gonna hurt me though.”
“I could if I wanted to.”
“I know that you don't want to.”
Emily stops fidgeting with the container, eyes finding Andy’s once again.
“You sound so sure.”
“Because I am.”
Emily lightly shakes her head and lets out a quick breath that could almost be considered a chuckle, handing the lead container to Andy. Emily's fingers brush Andy's palm only momentarily, before the contact is lost immediately as Emily pulls her hand away. Andy's own stay in position for a beat longer, flexing and adjusting her grip, before retreating a moment after.
She starts walking backwards, keeping her eyes locked with the other woman.
“Have a good night, Emily.”
Andy does not wait for a reply, she assumes she wouldn’t get one from Emily anyway. She flies until she’s far enough away to be out of sight for the human eye. She stays long enough to see the crowds thin out and Emily’s car arrives to pick her up. Now assured, she takes off in a different direction, listening in for anyone who is in need.
She still has the offer to consider. Andy lets herself weigh the pros and cons again, cataloguing ‘alone with Emily’ in both tables.
She would have to ask about the logistics of how they would meet.
She needs a separate phone and sim card.
The world does not acknowledge that she has already made a decision. She does not as well.
Andy does not let herself regret the unreturned phone call from twenty years ago. She fears that the same would not be possible for this instance. She catalogues this in the pros section.