Summary: Andy and Miranda hole themselves up in Andy's apartment for the weekend and completely ignore the outside world.
A phone rings.
You've reached Andy Sachs. I can't get to the phone right now but if you leave a message, I'll call you back as soon as I can. *beep*
Andy! Hey it's Doug, duh. I got tickets to see Kelly Clarkson tonight and I was wondering if you wanted to be my gal pal for the evening. If I don't hear from you in the next 43 minutes and 17 seconds I am asking Lily. You've been warned!
Andy came up for air from Miranda's lips. The pair had practically melted against the door of Andy's apartment the second it closed behind them. Andy cashed in on the favor that Mitch, her Mirror work buddy, owed her as he covered the desk for the rest of the day. Miranda, on the other hand put her precious Runway in the hands of Nigel when Andy called that afternoon and asked her to sneak out early for their weekend together.
Miranda's stomach was a little squished from the way the brunette was leaned against it, but she wouldn't have asked her to move if her life depended on it.
"Are you going to answer your phone?" Miranda asked between kisses. By the time Andy could pull away to answer, "not a chance," a message had already been left in the voice mailbox.
A soft pair of hands shifted up Andy's torso, sneaking under the fabric of her shirt as they traveled upwards. Andy let out a little sigh of contentment to show her approval. It really had been a long week, and it had definitely been far too long since they could steal a moment away with each other. They would not leave the confines of this apartment for the next 48 hours if it was the last thing they did.
"What do you want for dinner?" Andy asked, breaking away for a moment. Miranda smoothed a finger down her cheek.
She went in for another kiss before answering, "you."
You have reached the voice mailbox for the number 212-555-1234. You may leave a message after the tone. *beep*
Miranda? It's your assistant, Jess (well, or Emily? I guess?), which you probably know from the caller I.D., um, unless you didn't save my number. I don't know if you've ever actually called me Jessica. Uh, anyway there's a huge problem with these skirts you asked for and I really think you should call me back when you can.
Miranda vaguely heard the ringing of her cell phone from the other room and decided to ignore it. She recognized the ringtone of her second assistant and knew that she would be bothered with something trivial. Instead, she took a sip from her glass of wine, and swirled her fingers in the soapy water at her fingertips.
Andrea was pressed deliciously against her back as they relaxed in the claw-foot tub in Andy's apartment. Miranda wasn't crazy about the walk-up, but it definitely had its perks: namely, the tub she was currently cozied into. Occasionally Andy would press her lips to the side of Miranda's temple and it would erase all ill thoughts she'd ever had about Andrea's place. At least for a moment or two.
"I love your skin, Miranda," Andy sighed contentedly from behind the editor. Miranda just hummed in return, too relaxed to summon a reply. Andy massaged the elegant shoulders under her hands, covering them with fragrant water.
"Let me guess, your moisturizer is made from the tears of small children," Andy says into her ear, earning a hearty chuckle in return.
Andy giggles herself before saying, "No? Hmm. How about the sweat of your minions?"
"Of course not, Andrea," Miranda replies, "that would be cruel."
"Oh yes, my mistake," Andy plays along.
"I use the blood of my enemies, of course," Miranda says haughtily, "anything else would be preposterous."
Andy cackles out a loud laugh at her lover's antics, and they soak until the water chills. When they are dried and dressed in loungewear, Miranda finds yet another message in her inbox from Nigel this time. She wonders briefly if there is an urgent problem that needs to be dealt with, but knows that if that were the case Nigel would have called back. Repeatedly.
You have reached the voice mailbox for the number 212-555-1234. You may leave a message after the tone. *beep*
Miranda, ignore whatever your assistant's name is. I can work with the skirts. It's her brain that I'm questioning. What's her name? Bess? Not the sharpest tool in the shed, that girl.
Andy calls out for Chinese takeout, despite protests from Miranda. Of course it's fattening, and greasy and downright delicious, just as Andy predicted it would be. She promises that they will find a way to work off all those extra calories, and Miranda is appeased. Andy even orders extra spring rolls for her love, and pretends not to notice when Miranda eats every last one.
"Hey! Go back, there's a Harry Potter marathon on this weekend," Andy says to Miranda as she flips channels a little to quickly for her to comprehend.
"Again? You've seen them all. More than once, in fact," Miranda quips.
"Yeah, but it's practically a written law that when there's a Harry Potter marathon weekend on TV you have to watch it," Andy replies and turns to Miranda with innocent eyes that she can never resist. Blue eyes roll in return but her resolve is clearly crumbling.
"And it's your fault that your carpets are being shampooed on the one weekend that the twins are out of town. You own all the Harry Potter movies! Your TV is bigger than my bedroom." She definitely has a point.
"Fine," Miranda relents, and Andy settles deeper into the couch. She spreads the blanket more evenly across both of their laps and rests her head on Miranda's shoulder after placing a kiss on her cheek. Miranda can be such a softy sometimes.
You've reached Andy Sachs. I can't get to the phone right now but if you leave a message, I'll call you back as soon as I can. *beep*
Sachs! Where the hell are ya? Everyone from the office is getting drinks later at PASH if you ever decide to crawl out of whatever rock you're hiding under. Text me if you're not dead.
It turns out that Harry Potter is nice, but making out on the sofa is always nicer.
You've reached Andy Sachs. I can't get to the phone right now but if you leave a message, I'll call you back as soon as I can. *beep*
Andrea Sachs this is your mother speaking! Just kidding it's Doug again. Where have you been, girl? Kelly gave the show of a lifetime and you missed out. (Hi Andy!) That's Lilly she's drunk. (No I'm not! He's drunk!) I hope you're okay! Call me back so I can make you jealous and sing about everything you missed.
"Are you sure, Andrea?" Miranda asks for what seems like the hundredth time that night. They are both pretty sweaty and have shared a few orgasms already, but Andy had one more request for the night.
"Of course Miranda," she sighs, already pretty far gone, "I promise you won't hurt me."
Miranda rocks her hips against Andy's. The appendage strapped onto her lower half slides a little deeper into the brunette. It's Miranda's first time giving instead of receiving and she wants it to be good.
"You'd tell me if I was too rough?" Miranda asks, her voice breathless. She rocks once more.
"Oh God yes!" Andy replies. Miranda takes that as her final answer and moves with a bit more gusto.
You have reached the voice mailbox for the number 212-555-1234. You may leave a message after the tone. *beep*
Miranda, I left the book on the side table with the flowers, um, and also your mail that had fallen through the slot. Just thought I would tell you in case you were wondering why it wasn't on the floor. Oh, um, it's Jessica. Again.
The only thing better than making love with the woman you adore, is falling asleep in her arms.
You've reached Andy Sachs. I can't get to the phone right now but if you leave a message, I'll call you back as soon as I can. *beep*
Since you've been gooooooone! I can't breathe for the fiiiiiirst time!
Andy awakes with the screen of her phone telling her that she has a few unchecked messages. She listens to them on the quietest possible setting as Miranda sleeps on beside her. Apparently it's not quiet enough, because after the last message plays a gravely voice asks from under the covers, "is that Kelly Clarkson I hear?"
Andy chuckles, "he wishes he was Kelly Clarkson. Doug got tickets to see her last night."
"Mmm," Miranda says sleepily. Andy knows not to put too much stock into conversations that are had before coffee.
"Are you ready to get up, pretty lady?" she asks sweetly to the pile of silver hair visible atop the sheets. Miranda burrows down into the warmth of the covers and yawns. "Five more minutes."
A half-hour later, Miranda Priestly is served breakfast in bed, complete with home brewed Starbucks brand coffee in a handmade mug.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Miranda asks, sliding up in bed in preparation to tuck into her scrambled eggs and fruit.
"Oh, no reason. I just like you." Andy says. She laughs at the narrowed blue eyes that focus sharply on her. "Also, you're loaded. And smokin' hot."
Miranda tosses back her head and lets a peal of laughter break through. "I always knew you were after my money."
"And your dashing good looks."
"Yes, yes," Miranda sighs, letting her laughter die down, "there's always that."
You have reached the voice mailbox for the number 212-555-1234. You may leave a message after the tone. *beep*
Miranda, just informing you that Testino called from Milan about the venue and it's pending your approval. Jessica, your second assistant, is a bumbling idiot by the way. I have no idea why you haven't fired her yet. You'd tell me if you suddenly moved to Bora Bora right?
A/N: A short story is better than no story at all, right?