Ch 1
It had been six months since Andrea had left Miranda in Paris. Six months of professional bliss. Six months of emotional hell. Andrea loved her job at Mirror, she was finally doing what she came to New York to do. She could finally look at her degree hanging on her shabby apartment wall and smile knowing that she's doing that degree justice. All of that time, money, and effort that she poured into her degree, the hours at the college newspaper as the editor, it had all paid off. She was an official writer for a newspaper and professionally, she couldn't be happier. Emotionally? Not so much… Leaving Miranda was the hardest thing Andy had ever done. The woman she loved more than anyone else in the world and she'd just left her. One moment she was there and the next gone.
Andrea knocks back a shot and gestures the bartender for another, her vision swimming as she looks at the bartender who gets her another shot. How many would this make? Ten? Twelve? It didn't matter, anything to dull the ache in her heart. Her heart that had been broken into thousands of little pieces that day in Paris, at the gala. No matter how hard she tried to forget, she couldn't forget the look on Nigel's face when Miranda had stabbed him in the back. Handing over the job he'd worked his entire life for to Jacqueline Follet, not even batting a perfectly curled eyelash as she betrayed him. It was in that moment that Andrea realized that Miranda could drop her just like she did Nigel. To Nigel! Her right hand man for god knows how many years. He stuck by her through thick and thin, through triumph and tragedy, which would be every photo shoot if you asked Miranda. If Miranda could do that to Nigel, Andrea didn't even want to think what Miranda could have done to her. The lowly second assistant. Another shot burns its way down Andrea's throat and settles heavily in her belly.
The bartender cuts her off when she waves for another, or had she already had another, she didn't remember, an irritated huff escapes her lips at being cut off. She pays for her drinks and stumbles towards the door, pleased that she was at least able to dull the ache. It was never gone, but she'd take a dull ache over the painful stab of heartbreak. Why the ache you ask? It's because Andrea was head over heels in love with Miranda. And Andrea was nothing to her… nothing. Andy feels tears start to fill her eyes as she thinks about Miranda. Her stunningly beautiful face, the strong cheekbones, the flawless skin, sharp chin, regal nose, and those eyes. She could willingly drown in those eyes for all of eternity. Not to mention the myriad of things she wanted to do to Miranda's lips. Andrea groans and steadies herself against the wall, her heart rate picking up and a heat settingly between her legs just at the thought of the flawless piece of art that Miranda was. Righting herself, Andrea starts her drunken walk back to her apartment only a few blocks away when she suddenly is hit with the need to tell someone, anyone that she loves the woman she means nothing to. She pulls out her cell phone and stumbles when her vision switches from farsighted to near. After steadying herself, Andrea hums a song as she scrolls through her contacts, her eyes zeroing in on mom. Mom! Mom was always willing to listen, she's the best. Andrea hits the call button after almost dropping her phone, and in the process accidently hitting the up button and selecting Miranda's name not her mothers.
Something akin to a snarl escapes Miranda's lips as her phone rings loudly on her bedside table. "This better be a damn emergency." Miranda growls and hits the answer button on her cell. "Just what the hell-" She's promptly cut off when a distraught feminine voice wails, "I love her mom. Oh, god, I know I shouldn't but I love her." Miranda, suddenly feeling a lot more awake huffs, "Is this some sort of joke? Do you know just who the hell you're talking to?!"
"She's everything I've ever wanted, mom. Miranda." She sighs and fumbles with her keys to her apartment. "She's the most damn perfect woman on the face of the- ha! Got it… damn lock..." Miranda eyes narrow and she feels her ire growing. "Who is this?" She demands.
"Mom?" Andrea tilts her head in confusion, didn't her own mother know the sound of her voice? "It's me, Andy. Duu-uuh." Andrea? "Andrea-" Andrea cuts her off again, only to further Miranda's ire. "Well, I'm home and gods am I hammered, I just," Andrea sighs and spills her guts in a fleeting moment of sobriety. "As much as I love her, I know she could've dropped me at the drop of a hat. I mean, look what she did to Nigel!" She laughs ruefully. "And I'm nothing compared to Nigel. Just the lowly second assistant. Nothing… and that's why I left. It broke my heart to do it, to leave her all alone at Fashion Week like that, but I had to get out before my feelings grew even more. I thought time away would help." She hiccups, "but it hasn't! I'm still just as in love with her as I was six, six months ago. When will my heart stop aching mom?!" The phone slips from her hands as she wildly gestures, trying to somehow emphasize her point, and it falls on her bed. "Ah fuck." Andrea swears as she fumbles for the phone, trying to pick it back up again, disconnecting the call in her stumblings. She falls on the bed when she loses her balance and promptly passes out.
Miranda for her part, is sitting straight up on her bed in complete shock. "Andrea? Hello?" Miranda waits several seconds to see if she responds before looking down at the now black screen. "She hung up on me?! Calls me, tells me that she loves me, and hangs up?! Millennials." She huffs dismissively. "They have zero mannars." Andrea's words finally filters through Miranda's still slightly sleep addled brain and she stops breathing for a moment, her eyes widening in shock.
"She loves me?" She whispers after several minutes of silence, not believing that the phone call actually happened. "She can't… she wouldn't have just left me in Paris if she'd loved me, regardless of her silly reasoning. What happened with Nigel was just business and I know she knows that. What a grand declaration of love she made, abandoning me during the busiest week of the year!" Miranda huff/sneers and tosses the phone back on the nightstand before laying back down and trying in vain to fall asleep, Andrea's admission of love echoing in her ears. "Ridiculous" She mumbles before she finally drifts off to sleep, only an hour before her alarm is set to go off. An unknown, unfamiliar, and possibly unwilling smile tugging at the corners of her normally pursed lips.
~DWP~
I've died and gone to hell. Andrea thinks the next morning when she's finally pulled from her drunken state of unconsciousness. How much did I drink last night? Andrea wonders and assumes that it was a lot, if her throbbing head was anything to go by. She slowly pushes herself off of her bed, groaning when the motion makes her head spin. She presses her clammy, but cool hand to her forehead and slowly shuffles her way to the kitchen where she quickly fills a glass with water, gets out some aspirin, and downs it in one go. For good measure, she has another two glasses of water before heading into her bathroom where she proceeds to peel her clothes off and step under the hot spray of her shower. She stands under the hot water motionless for nearly five minutes before moving again, starting to regain some semblance of thought and reason. A soft hum echoes in the small bathroom as she washes her long brown hair, rinsing it thoroughly before climbing out and wrapping it up in a towel to dry. Feeling decidedly more human, Andrea brushes her teeth and goes to get dressed. It was Saturday, and she didn't have any deadlines to meet or projects to work on. She had a rare weekend off and she intended to make the most of it. Do her laundry, clean her apartment, and other than that, do absolutely nothing productive all weekend.
After she'd slipped into her weekend lounge clothes, Andrea picks up her phone to see if she's received any messages, a frown tugs at her lips when she notices that she apparently had a good seven minute conversation last night with someone. "Who did I call?" She murmurs as her thumbs move over the keys to bring up her call history. Andrea can feel every ounce of blood leave her face and her knees grow weak when she reads the name associated with that seven minute call. "Miranda… oh fuck." She swears and sinks to the ground when her legs will no longer support her weight. "Oh, no, no, no, no, no! Anyone but Miranda." She laments. "Goddamnit, drunk Andrea! Why the hell did you call her?!" If possible, she pales further. "More importantly, what the hell did I say to her?" She whispers and tries to desperately remember what she'd said, but it was no use. Last night was completely blacked out of her memory. Andrea lets herself fall back against her floor and lets out a loud, low, groan, starting to get a headache just thinking about the repercussions that this could have if she'd told Miranda everything. "Jesus Christ, I'm so screwed."
~DWP~
On Miranda's end, she woke up in an abnormally good mood. She refused to admit to herself that the source of her good mood was what Andrea had confessed to her last night, but she did let herself bask in the knowledge that even at 50 she still had what it took to turn heads and win hearts. However, this one was different. Most hearts that she won, she didn't want and proceed to ignore whomever was trying to give it to her till they got the idea and buggered off. Andrea on the other hand, she gave Miranda reason to pause, reason to reconsider. She'd seen Miranda at her worst that night in Paris, she'd seen the real Miranda Priestly not the done up editor in chief. Many would argue that they are one in the same, and as much as Miranda would like to admit that it was true, it just wasn't. The Miranda that the world knew was different from the Miranda that people close to her knew. Andrea had seen both, experienced the wrath and praise of the former, and had seen the defeat of the latter. And still she professed to love her. My, my, what a predicament Miranda found herself in and realized that she had no idea how to proceed.
Did she want Andrea? As a friend? As a lover? Did she want to reconnect with Andrea and see what could become of them? She took a sip of her scalding hot coffee as she sits down at the kitchen counter, her eyes glazed over as she is lost to her own train of thought. For once in her life, Miranda Priestly did not know what she wanted or what she was going to do about it. For the entirety of her life, she has known exactly what she wanted, and more or less the way to get it. Not that she would ever admit it, but Miranda did have a soft spot for Andrea. She'd been different than all of her other assistants, a good different, a breath of fresh air almost. Andrea had been a sharp contrast to Emily, who worshiped the very ground Miranda walked on. Not that she didn't revel in that kind of worship, but it was refreshing to have someone who just saw the woman. Not the fashion icon. "Andrea…" Miranda slowly whispers her name, letting the syllables of her name flow off of her tongue and lips, goosebumps erupting over the pale skin of her arms and neck as she speaks. Oh yes, Miranda definitely wanted Andrea, and she wanted her as a lover, greater still, she would move heaven and earth to get her. An almost devilish smile forms on her face as she start to plan just how she would ensnare Andrea in her web.
A/N: I've only recently discovered the DWP fandom and I've been obsession over this particular paring. This is my first time writing for this fandom and I'd like to know what you think. Please R&R.
Andy- drunk off her ass- grabs her phone to call her mom. Only… Miranda's name is right above 'Mom' in her contacts list. Miranda gets a lovely surprise at 1am when Andrea calls… and confesses (thinking that it is Andy's mom on the other line) that she reason she left Miranda in Paris was because she loved the woman who was her boss and couldn't deal with the heartache of knowing that Miranda could drop her just like she did to Nigel. Prompt by crazybecat from Tumblr