A/N: A little songfic/ficlet for the masses. A while back I read a story where Andy was with Miranda in secret, and the twins wanted to audition for Idol, so she did and got through and made it almost to the end, despite Miranda ending their relationship because of it. The last song she sang was Hey Lady by Thriving Ivory, and I'd never heard it before, now I'm addicted to it. So to the author that wrote it (I can't remember who it is, but when I find out I'll edit this) thank you for introducing me to it.

-0-

It was done, the door was closed, the phone was in the fountain and Andy Sachs was free of Runway magazine, and Miranda bloody Priestly.

And yet, Andy walked around the corner, suddenly overcome with a feeling of breathlessness, and she pressed her hand against her ribcage, feeling the beating heart underneath, fluttering madly at the thought of what she had just done. The tears ran down her face, no doubt ruining her makeup, but she couldn't bring herself to care as she thought about abandoning Miranda, leaving her forever.

She could feel her heart breaking as she cried hysterically, her body curling into itself as the feeling of utter loneliness overwhelmed her. She had to get Miranda back, though she had no idea how to do that. How do you woo a woman – a two-and-a-bit divorced woman no less – a woman who destroyed anyone she didn't like, and a woman who was never to be touched. Andy forced herself to relax, forced herself to calm her breathing as she stood a little straighter with each passing minute.

She had to do something, something that would not be construed as a plot to destroy her, or to simply get back in her good books. Something that was not connected to the Devil in Prada in anyway. Andy wanted the woman behind the icon. She wasn't stupid though, she knew they were two sides of the same coin, but she found she loved the woman more than the icon. Bearing this in mind, she nodded decisively, hailing a cab as she realised what she had to do.

It had taken all afternoon; to find the right words, to find the perfect delivery method, to complete her work, but she made it just in time, ducking behind the couch as she heard the key in the lock. Miranda was back.

-0-

Miranda was in a daze, though you couldn't tell. Andréa had left.

Truthfully, she knew it had been her fault. If she had handled her differently, told Nigel what to expect, if she had have been another woman, perhaps Andréa would have stayed.

She sighed, leaning against the headrest behind her as she pushed her hand against the pain in her chest, feeling the thump-thump of her heart under her hand. Only her legendary resolve stopped her from breaking down. The woman had been different right from the very beginning of her tenure, when Miranda had seen beyond the terrible skirts and shoes. She had been so different in fact, that Miranda was captivated; intrigued by the way the woman couldn't be swayed. And after the make-over that Nigel had so graciously given her…

Miranda had been lost. To have such a woman at her beck and call, and what a woman she had turned out to be.

She pinched the bridge of her nose in an effort to will the tears away from her eyes. She couldn't cry over Andréa, after all, she was the one that had sent her away. She felt the car come to a stop and took a deep breath, knowing that in a moment she would be once again on display.

Her life was a ruin, the only beacons were her two children and she desperately wanted to hold them, keep them from the pain of her life. They would be disappointed about the divorce, though not for the reasons that people thought. They had no qualms in telling her that Stephen was an idiot, though she chastised them for their words. There was no love lost there, but they would be so disappointed for her, disappointed that she could lose another man.

She nodded to her driver, thanking him for his silence throughout the ride and strode through the lobby of the hotel. She had a little time before the Valentino show that evening and she had to get herself under control. El Maestro would undoubtedly be disappointed that Andréa would not be with her tonight, but she could not let herself be overcome in front of him and all their peers. She was Miranda Priestly, she did not do overcome.

She waved away the bellboy at the elevator when he asked if he could be of service, instead storming to her room and fumbling with her card for a moment before finally letting herself in. She leaned against the back of the door, suddenly feeling very human, and very alone. Her arms wrapped around her torso as she toed off her shoes.

Deciding she wanted a drink, she stumbled towards the bar, stopping as she saw her room.

"What on earth," she said out loud, looking around at the somewhat childish pieces of paper stuck to the walls, doors and windows throughout the room.

From somewhere a song began to play. It was not something Miranda had, or would ever listen to, so she read through the messages around the room as the lyrics started, and she realised that they were the words to the song. A moment of clarity hit as the voice rang out, penetrating every fibre of her being.

"Hi," Andréa said, causing her to spin around and stare.

"Andréa," she whispered like a prayer, all the while those words she had read ran through her mind in time with the words to the song.

"I left Runway today," Andréa said, making Miranda frown. She knew this, she could still feel the pain in her heart. "But I can't bring myself to leave you," she continued quietly, almost too quietly, over the song, but Miranda heard her in her soul.

As the climax of the song started, Andréa followed the words, dropping to her knee, holding out a rose.

"Please Miranda," Andréa said, her deep chocolate eyes pleading with hers and she found herself nodding against her better judgement.

"I don't want to fight," Miranda said. "I, I need you Andréa," she whispered, almost unable to believe the words were leaving her lips.

"I was waiting for the invitation, Miranda," Andréa began gently, taking her hands in hers, and making her gasp at the touch. Nobody touched Miranda Priestly, but Andréa had never been good at following the rules. "Just, don't give up on me, don't let me go again, and I won't leave you."

"Andréa –"

"Lover, please," she said, grinning as the song faded quietly.

For the first time in what felt like months, Miranda smiled. She pulled Andréa forward, slowly drawing her body to hers, caressing her lips softly, and shivering when Andréa moaned.

"If you promise to never give up on me, then I promise I will never give up on you," she said quietly as they separated for a moment.

"Deal," Andréa whispered, wrapping her arms around Miranda's waist and pulling her close again.

Miranda sighed, feeling her equilibrium returning again, as her arms were reaching up around Andréa's neck, her fingers scratching through her luscious hair while Andréa's hands crept under the hem of her shirt.

"Stay with me," Miranda whispered as Andréa nibbled on her neck. "I need you here tonight."

"Tonight and always."