Disclaimer: As always, I am just fooling with these characters. I do not make any money from them. Lauren Weisberger and 20th Century Fox own them.
A/N: This oneshot is just a small idea that was aching to escape. It has not been edited to my usual standards, as I really CBA.
Summary: Andy and Miranda meet unexpectedly after many years.
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Andy ran through Central Park, the warm summer breeze flowing around her. She'd been away from the City that held her heart for far too long but now she could settle back into her life.
The years had brought big changes to her. She never married, unable to have who she truly wanted. She instead, concentrated on her career, letting her relationships fall to the wayside in her quest for the next big story.
She'd seen four years out at the Mirror upon leaving Runway before moving onto freelancing. Her work had taken her all over the world, from war-torn Afghanistan to North Korea, China, Europe, South America and even a stint in Russia. No matter where her work took her she remembered her trial by fire as Miranda Priestly's assistant at Runway, using the lessons she had been taught by the mercurial editor-in-Chief, the woman she still dreamed about.
She had heard that Miranda had stepped down the year before and it was a very rare occurrence when the woman was seen schmoozing at publishing events. The sixty-three-year-old former-editor had become somewhat reclusive, leaving Page Six to quip that she was preparing herself for her eternal work of stoking the hellfires.
Andy continued to run but faltered as a familiar voice hit her ears. Coming to a standstill, she listened as she rested her arms on her thighs in an attempt to get her breath back.
"I do not understand why you insist on wheeling me around as if I am some kind of geriatric, Bobbsey. I would do very well walking." Andy sensed the smile behind the words and couldn't stop her own smile from blossoming.
"Mom, you just had an operation on your knee and I doubt you would manage in the 5-inch heels you insist on wearing." A melodious voice hit Andy and she looked up and saw the piercing blue-green eyes and shock of wild red hair of one of the Priestly twins. "And how many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?"
"Mm, no matter how old you or Caroline get Cassidy, you will always be my Bobbsey's." Miranda turned her head to look up at her daughter, a small smile playing across her lips. "I think we can settle here." Miranda gestured to a bench under some trees and sat back, her shaded eyes looking up at the sky as Cassidy sat gingerly on the damp bench. "You know, the best year for me was 2006."
"Isn't that the year Stephen left?" Cassidy angled herself towards the older woman.
"Mm, the best decision he ever made." Miranda's lips quirked. "His leaving prompted me to take more time to appreciate my family."
"And wasn't that the year your assistant disappeared. The Harry Potter girl." Cassidy laughed, knowing it infuriated her mom to hear her Andréa labelled as such. They'd worked out their mom's feelings for the woman ran deeper once the rumours reached them about her blacklisting some author for making a derogatory comment about the disappearance of Miranda Girl. "Boy, Caro's idea to get her up the stairs was epic. We thought she was going to shit a brick."
Miranda turned her head and it seemed like she looked directly at her. "It was a very well-timed prank, I suppose. But Andréa was an acceptable assistant, by far one of the best I had throughout my years at Runway, and she was an exceptional human." Miranda smiled softly. "Now, how about that promise of coffee you produced to lure me out of the house?"
"I'll run and get it." Cassidy smiled down at the older woman.
"You should get one for Andrea too." Miranda looked up, catching her eyes, a small genuine smile lighting up her face. She crooked her finger at the brunette, a gesture to come closer.
Cassidy moved away, with a small smirk at Andy. "Hey, Harry Potter girl."
"Hi, Cassidy." Andy gave her a small grin before turning to gaze at the older woman. "Good morning, Miranda."
"Even after all these years, it seems I can still sense your presence, Andréa." Miranda's eyes roamed over her, from the tips of her running shoes, over her calves and thighs covered by nylon running shorts and the DryFit vest she wore until they reached her eyes. She nodded once. "Come, join me."
Andy stepped closer, pulling the cell from the armband around her bicep. She checked her progress on her running app and saw she'd managed almost four miles. "I suppose I can sit for a while." She smiled brightly and heard Miranda's breath catch. "You look great, no burns."
Miranda laughed, a light tinkle that was like musical chimes. "No, I take care not to get singed while I'm stoking the flames."
Andy's laughter joined hers. "You really do look fantastic, Miranda. It's been a long time. How are you, really?"
Andy watched as Miranda clutched the armrests of the wheelchair she sat in and took a deep breath. "I have been better." She gestured to her leg. "I tore the cruciate and meniscus skiing in Aspen last month, I had surgery last week."
"Ouch." Andy winced trying to hide her initial reaction, knowing her eyes would reflect shock at the explanation Miranda offered.
"Quite." Miranda frowned at the Nike baseball cap on Andy's head. It shaded Andy's eyes too much for her liking. "You have been gone for quite a few years now. When did you return?" Miranda bit her lip at the admission she knew the brunette had not been in New York, she would see it as confirmation her career had been followed.
"I returned last week, I got an editorial job at the New Yorker." Andy was thrilled at the sight of the hint of pleasure in Miranda's eyes at the news. "Features Editor." Andy's smile was blinding for a moment before looking away.
She pulled the cap from her head and ran her fingers over her hair, smoothing it down in a gesture anyone who knew her understood reflected her anxiety. When she turned to face Miranda again, Andy caught the muted gasp as Miranda's eyes landed on the streak of white running through the front of her hair.
Unable to tear her eyes away, Miranda attempted to deflect her attention. "Next step, editor-in-Chief." Her eyes never left the shock of white hair and she clenched her hands, stopping herself from reaching out to touch the woman.
"I can only hope." Andy smiled softly and gestured to her hair. "My sister tells me it's very Cruella-esque. It took a while but I kinda like it."
"It is certainly distinctive, Andréa." Miranda rolled her eyes at Andy's laughter. The laughter itself was bleak. and unlike the boisterous laughter she remembered.
She sat in the place Cassidy had vacated. "I was in Columbia when this happened, a random man held an MK47 to my head for almost an hour in a hostage situation at a bank. It was a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time rather than chasing a story. The streak is not one of those overnight miracles, what folklore calls Marie Antoinette syndrome. I didn't suddenly wake up with a white streak like Rogue in X-Men." Miranda chuckled." I noticed about three weeks after the incident and over the last two years it's grown into my natural length."
Andy looked up as Cassidy returned and handed her a Starbucks cup. "I didn't think of asking what you had, and because I wasn't sure I got you the same as mom."
"Mm, a no-foam, skimmed latte with an extra shot. Perfect." Andy hummed as she sipped her drink and saw Cassidy and Miranda's matching smirks. "What?"
"It's been what, thirteen years, and you still remember mom's coffee order?" Cassidy's smile widened.
"I never forgot the three drip coffees with room for milk either." Andy leaned back and eyed the redhead, she'd grown into a beautiful young woman. "So, what do you do, Cassidy?"
"I work as a freelance photographer." Cassidy blushed. "Caro had all the smarts, she's finishing up her J.D at Stanford." Cassidy looked at Miranda. "I got a text while I waited for coffee, Brooke wants to meet at the Boathouse, are you almost ready to move on?"
Andy looked at Miranda and saw her frown. "Go," Miranda waved her hand airily in the direction of the boathouse. "Be back here, 30 minutes sharp, bring Brooke along if necessary."
"I can see you home when you've had enough, Miranda." Andy offered, unable to stop herself. Part of her wanted to extend her time with the beautiful older woman, curious to know why she gestured her over after so long. There had to be some reason for it.
"Acceptable." Miranda smiled as Cassidy strolled away confidently without a backward glance.
"She's turned into a stunningly beautiful young woman." Andy admired the straight lines and confident gait of the retreating woman.
"I did not realise that was where your proclivities lay." Miranda's tone was icy.
"Oh, no. I did not mean anything by it. Just, um..." Andy stopped herself from babbling and took a deep breath. Turning she caught Miranda's eyes. "... She's what I imagine you would have been like. And as an FYI she's a little too young for my taste. I'm not exactly a sprightly young thing, able to run around Manhattan in killer heels."
Miranda eyed her curiously. "So, you do not deny your attraction lies with women?"
Andy shrugged. "Over a period of time, I found my sexuality was not as black and white as I initially imagined." She shook her head. "It's been a long time since I had to explain."
"The years have changed you." Miranda's tone was quiet and somewhat gentle. "I should not be surprised, really."
Andy sipped her coffee, watching as Miranda did the same. "Why did you gesture me over?" Andy refused to follow the old rules about not asking Miranda questions.
"You stopped," Miranda smirked when Andy snorted. "You must have heard what I said to Cassidy?" Andy looked curious. "2006 was the best year because it is when I had you in my life. I saw you and I must admit it surprised me. But at that moment I realised how much I have missed you."
"Miranda, I..." Andy trailed off and saw the hint of something expectant in Miranda's eyes. "...wow, I don't know what to say." She admitted.
Miranda shifted in her seat, looking away. "You saw the press coverage after Stephen, how difficult he made things." She pursed her lips. "I didn't believe, back then, I was in a place to ask you to return to me."
"I would have returned," Andy admitted. "But I was also pissed at you."
"Are you still..." Miranda licked her lips. "...pissed?"
"No," Andy smirked. "I would most likely have cussed you out though. There were so many times it was only by my own sheer stubbornness that I stopped myself from doing just that." Andy chuckled as Miranda rolled her eyes. Standing up, she placed her coffee to one side and moved in front of Miranda. Kneeling down, she gazed into her clear blue eyes. "That night in Paris, I was in no position to kiss you, however much I wanted to."
"I would have kissed you back," Miranda whispered. "Although I may have pushed you away afterwards."
Andy's smile was reassuring. "No, you wouldn't, I wouldn't have let you if I had seen a single trace of anything that gave me hope. We would have grown together and made memories. We would have travelled this passage of time together."
"But your life would have been so different. Hounded by the press and left waiting for me to take the time for you. I would not have been good for you." Miranda stated sadly. Their eyes locked. "But maybe now we have the chance to do things differently. We could work towards travelling the next passage of time together."
"I'd like that," Andy stated. "Once you are back on your feet, I'll take you to dinner." Andy bit her lip. "And hopefully, if I'm lucky I'll get that kiss I wanted all those years ago."
Miranda leaned forward, wrapping the palm of her hand around Andy's jaw, her eyes focussed on Andy's lips as she pulled her closer. Brushing her lips softly against Andy's, she whispered. "I am not a patient woman, Andréa. We have wasted enough time."
"Somehow, with the passage of time, and the deadlines life imposes, surrendering became the right thing to do." Andy quotes breathlessly, observing Miranda's large smile.
"It will be the sweetest of surrenders, my darling." Miranda's whispered words filtered through her mind as lips captured hers again, in the sweetest of kisses.
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