A/N: I didn't officially sign up for the Poke-the-Dragon or the July Ficathon because honestly I cannot figure out how to use LJ. However, my dear friend and muse did sign up for one of them tomorrow but RL gets in the way so I am posting this in honor of her slot. I'd post it tomorrow, but my RL will be in the way so I'm posting it today. Anyway I hope you all enjoy this silly little Mirandy story.

It's rated T but could be considered a strong T just due to content matter and a few curse words. No actual action in this one.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything DWP related at all nor do I make any profit from this. I only own the mistakes and I'm sure there are a plethora of them.

Chapter 1

"Andrea." The name floated across the office. Just a hair above a whisper, but loud enough for the competently trained girl to hear. Miranda was not one to speak loudly. If people had to concentrate on hearing what you had to say, then that meant they were listening. Andy scurried from her desk and headed into Miranda's inner sanctum with pad and pen in hand.

"Yes Miranda?" No matter how many times she asked that question, she couldn't seem to get the small quiver out of her voice. The white haired woman across from her always made her feel a little nervous and somewhat intimidated. She was Miranda Priestly, La Priestly, the Devil in Prada, and yet to Andy she was also just Miranda; the woman who loved her kids beyond measure and who never took enough time for herself. She was the woman Andy Sachs was head over Jimmy Choo heels in love with. Andy had almost walked away from the woman across from her several weeks ago at a fountain in Paris, but when she heard the infamous ringtone of her phone it seemed to have drained the last bit of defiance out of her. Somewhere in Andy's mind she knew she needed Miranda, and that's what truly scared her the most.

"You would like an opportunity to write." It wasn't a question. Initially taken aback, Andy just stared at her boss. The editor was looking at her computer screen and it gave Andy a moment to take in the older woman. The white hair was perfectly coiffed, and the black Donna Karen silk wrap dress that dipped low in the front was enough to tease anyone's libido. Anyone's. As Andy's eyes traveled, Miranda's head turned to catch her assistant's gaze. Busted! Oh well, it wasn't the first time she had been caught staring at her boss. The woman was the epitome of sex appeal so it was only natural to want to drink in the vision before her. Andy felt the flush run across her face as she thought: Way to go captain obvious!

Miranda smirked at Andrea's blush covered cheeks knowing she had been caught. Really, the girl's eyes were not only glued to her chest, but they were telling and full of expression. Andrea's eyes were one of Miranda's most favorite things. It would never do to simply call them brown. No, Andrea's eyes were the color of warm dark chocolate just as it is being poured into a layer of croissant filo dough. Like the sweetness of the pastry, Andrea's eyes are a pure indulgence for Miranda.

She was used to people staring at her, looking at her, and analyzing her facial features. The entire fashion industry looked to her daily and her appearance was under a continuously scrutinizing global eye, but with the looks that Andrea gave her there was something else entirely. Yes, there was the unmistakable gleam of desire, but was there a hint of something more as well? She was certain a physical tryst right on this very desk would not be unwelcome. But dare she hope for more? Or should she be satisfied with a mere quickie and deal with the heartbreak later once Andrea was sated and had her curiosity quenched?

"It is a good thing I did not ask you if you wanted to interview someone since obviously you have been overcome with the inability to speak." Miranda's voice may have sounded condescending to the average person, but Andy had learned how to read the fashion editor quite well and saw the flicker of amusement in those blue ice chips directed at her.

Andy wanted to pull Miranda across the desk and wipe the smugness emanating from her face. Didn't the woman know how distracting she was? Didn't she know by now that the only reason I keep tripping in my Louboutin's is because I'm too busy staring at the sway of her perfect hips?

"Yes. I do. I mean of course. Yes." Andy groaned inwardly.

"Let us hope that your words flow better on paper than out of your mouth Andrea." Enjoying being able to tongue-tie the girl, Miranda put just an extra drawl on the already overly exaggerated pronunciation on her name. She had once overheard Andrea tell someone on the phone that there was only one person in the world allowed to call her Ahn-dray-uh. At first she was unsure if that was meant as an insult but then she had heard the young woman say, "Doug, I know you're trying to make a point but there on is only one person who can call me Andrea. It just sounds weird from anyone else because she makes it sound like poetry, like I'm special. So no one else can call me that. Not even you." and the thought of Andrea making fun of her quickly vanished.

"I have just received an email from the Sex and Health writing team. Caitlin has been fired and the department is in need of an additional writer for this month's issue." Miranda stated very matter-of-factly.

Just hearing the word 'sex' come from Miranda's mouth nearly had Andy passed out onto the floor. In her head, her boss had used the word quite often in a repertoire of fantasies that included Miranda not only saying the word, but acting it out as well. Flashes from these daydreams all came to the forefront of Andy's imagination before realizing that Miranda was waiting on some form of acknowledgement. Andy thought that if Miranda had ever uttered the word 'sex' in a question or phrase, then the answer was always yes.

"Yes!" she blurted out. Her response was laden with need and had a hint of desperation. Hopefully Miranda would simply think that she was overly excited to be writing and not currently picturing her boss with her dress hiked up and bent over the desk.

"Eager to be writing Andrea?" Miranda asked while dangling deep red eye glasses from her lips.

"Yes...of course. I mean it will be my pleasure.. to help out Runway in any form that I can."Andrea stuttered. Please buy that before I die of embarrassment.

Miranda simply rose her eyebrow as though not quite buying that last line out of Andrea's mouth but said nothing. Andy continued to sit there squirming, especially now that she was completely turned on from both the neckline on that Donna Karen dress and because of the montage of fantasies that had just ripped through her brain moments ago.

Miranda had almost choked when she heard the word 'pleasure' from Andrea. Not trusting her voice, she just simply switched her focus back to her computer screen. She mentally counted to fifteen and Andrea still had yet to leave her office. The young girl was undoubtedly awaiting further instruction, or maybe she was just caught up again in the tantalizing cut of her dress. Realizing that her assistant wasn't going to leave, Miranda finally flicked her wrist and said her trademark "That's all."

Ever since they had returned from Paris, Miranda had made a conscious effort to refrain from using those words to Andrea. When she had seen the look of disappointment flit across the large brown eyes while dismissing her from her suite with a callous "your job," it had unnerved her. So from then on she had tried to make any parting words between them less cold. But today she was completely aroused, not only because she had caught Andrea staring at her cleavage, but also because she knew exactly what type of article her assistant would be taking on.