I decided to move this from my One Shots post to a post of its own as it has very much ceased to be a one shot and has evolved into at least a four parter.
I found this fic when I was sorting through my old notebooks at the beginning of the year and as it appeared to be finished I thought I might as well post it. Since then it has grown and I've found it difficult to limit myself to just four parts. The second part originally stemmed from a review from mglummer suggesting that I should make it my New Years Resolution to write a sequel that was a little happier. Due to that first suggestion and all of the lovely and encouraging words and suggestions I have received since I would like to dedicate the whole of this fic to mglummer, thank you, honestly, for being so lovely and encouraging and poking my plot bunnies to life with each of your messages!
The third and fourth installments are completed but anyone who follows me with any regularity knows how much of an absolute effort I find typing anything, I do promise to try very, very hard though, to get them to you as soon as possible, and who know, with enough encouragement I might even be able to give you more!
Disclaimer: I do not own The Devil Wears Prada, Miranda Priestly or Andrea Sachs, I simply enjoy mushing them together and seeing what happens and promise to return them, mostly unharmed, every time!
Warning: Discussions of cancer, treatment and recovery.
"Why don't you join them?" Miranda suggested, although she didn't move her head from its place resting on Andrea's shoulder. If she were honest with herself, she didn't want the other woman to go anywhere but she knew that her wife was silently longing to join the rest of the family on the beach and she couldn't begrudge her that as much as she wanted to be selfish and keep her for herself.
"You sure?" Andrea asked quietly, pressing a kiss to the silk scarf that was wrapped tightly around the older woman's head, "I can stay here, I don't mind."
"No, go on." Miranda pushed herself upright and tugged the blanket more tightly around herself despite the fact she knew it would do little to help the bone deep chill she felt almost constantly.
"Shout if you need anything." The brunette pressed a gentle kiss to her mouth and smiled. "I love you." Miranda watched her go, chuckling when she turned and blew another kiss with a grin before joining the girls in the surf, sweeping Jessica off her feet and swinging her round, drawing a squeal from the little girl. Miranda wanted so much to be able to join them but she felt so weak, so cold, that the thought of moving made her want to sleep.
Treatment had been tough, tougher than she had been prepared for despite the numerous books, blogs and articles she had read in an attempt to prepare herself for what was to come, and she was feeling the lasting effects keenly. This holiday was supposed to be a celebration of sorts, her treatment was finished, the doctors had told them that the cancer was in remission, but she still felt wretched and was struggling to find any enjoyment in the time with her family. She had never been good at being ill, always preferring to be on the move, to be busy, to be in amongst the action, but the bone deep weariness she felt constantly meant that she was no longer able to get involved and it infuriated her. Her energy cam in waves, it was unfortunate however that those waves tended to peak in the middle of the night when everyone was sleeping and dip in the middle of the day when she should have been able to spend time with her family.
Twisting in her chair she pulled her moleskin notebook which had been a constant companion through everything, from its place hidden between the cushions and let it fall open at the next blank page. When she had come to terms with her diagnosis she had also come to terms with her mortality and she had realised that there were things she needed to do, things she needed to make sure people knew if the worst happened. There was a lot she wanted to say to Andrea, things that she knew she would never be able to truly articulate if she tried to say them out loud and so she had started writing. Even with her all clear she would continue to write because now more than ever she was more aware than she ever had been that she would be the one to inevitably leave Andrea and there was still so much she needed to say.
Looking out over the sand she smiled at the sight of her wife running through the waves after their eldest grandchildren, Caroline and Cassidy sitting a little farther back keeping an eye on the younger two who were building sandcastles. Andrea had barely changed over the last twelve years, she still insisted on running at least three miles a day and it had paid off, maintaining the figure that Miranda was still ashamed that she had once referred to as fat. Her hair, now shot through with a small amount of grey was still a beautiful and rich chocolate brown and while some wrinkles now framed her eyes Miranda knew that they were simply evidence of all of the happiness they had shared. Her eyes still watching the scene she began to pen her next instalment.
Andrea,
You used to ask me what I was scared of and I don't think I ever gave you a straight answer. I always wanted to see me as the strong one and that meant not showing any fear. I just wish that that strength, the fearlessness, had ever been true. I've always been scared Andrea, my whole life, but never so much as I am when it comes to you, since the moment I began to realise the extent of my feelings for you I've been terrified.
Since that year in Paris, the year we don't talk about, my biggest fear has been losing you again. My heart almost stopped that day and even when I opened the door to my suite to find you exhausted but resolute the fear continued to be very, very real.
I long ago set aside the fear that you would grow bored of me or realise what you were missing elsewhere and find someone else who could offer you more than I. You are the only person who has ever said their wedding vows to me and I actually felt they meant them but there have been many more fears to replace the one that you might leave me.
The older I get, and especially now, the more terrified I get that I will be the one to leave you, of course that was always inevitable but since the diagnosis it has become very, very real. I thought I had come to terms with all of this years ago, but faced with the truth of my mortality, of leaving you and the girls and our grandchildren has brought me to my knees. I'm terrified that we will run out of time to do and say all of the things we are supposed to, all the things we have planned.
I'm terrified that when I'm gone you'll find someone else and move on, I'm equally terrified that you wont. All I want for you Andrea, all I've ever wanted, is for you to have the same happiness that you have spent the best years of your life giving me
"Grama Randa?" she looked up from the page and smile down at Jessica who was looking up at her expectantly.
"Yes my darling," tucking the notebook back into its hiding place she helped the little girl up onto her lap, hating that she didn't have the strength to lift her, "What are you doing back up here?"
"I'm sleepy," the girl mumbled, snuggling her way under the blanket, "Can I stay here with you?"
"Of course you can sweetheart," Miranda tucked the strawberry blonde head under her chin and pulled the blanket tighter round them both.
"You ok Grama?" the little girl asked, snuggling into the warmth and popping her thumb into her mouth just like Cassidy did when she was that age.
"I am, why don't you close your eyes for a little while? I'll wake you up when everyone comes back."
"Miranda." The older woman stirred slightly and winced as her back protested to the position she had forced it into, "Miranda sweetheart, wake up." She blinked her eyes open, coming blearily eye to eye with her wife, "Hey there sleepyhead, time to get up." Behind the brunette she could see that the weather had taken a turn for the worst and she pushed herself up, pleased that she actually felt a little better. Accepting Andrea's hand she allowed herself to be pulled up and into a strong embrace.
"Caro and Cass are watching a movie with the kids, did you want to join them?" Andrea asked as they wandered back into the house, pulling the door closed behind them just as the first large rain drops began to fall.
"Why don't we take advantage of the quiet and take a bath? As much as I love them, it certainly isn't as peaceful when you end up sharing with one or more of our darling grandchildren."
"I wont argue with that." Andrea chuckled, pressing a kiss to the older woman's temple as she led them through the house, snagging a bottle of wine and two glasses as they passed the kitchen, "Might as well make the most of it."
Once locked in their master bath Andrea set about filling the tub and switching on the ipod speakers before she turned to face her wife. With a gentle smile she reached up and untied the Hermes scarf wrapped around her head, her heart breaking when Miranda averted her eyes in shame. Of all of the visible symptoms of the cancer and the treatment losing her hair had been by far the hardest part for Miranda as it felt as if she was losing a very tangible part of her identity. She refused to leave the townhouse without her wig, no matter how hot and uncomfortable it could be to wear some days and even at home she rarely allowed the family to see her in at least a headscarf. Andrea though, always biased when it came to her wife, thought she was beautiful regardless of what was on the top of her head.
"Look at me sweetheart." She said, gently cupping the older woman's cheek, the tips of her fingers brushing over the baby soft strawberry blonde hair that was beginning to grow back. When Miranda eventually made eye contact she was fighting back tears.
"I'm sorry Andrea."
"Hey, no apologising." Andrea's voice was firm but gentle as she pulled the other woman closer, her hand cradling her head to her, "You are beautiful and strong and I love you."
"I've questioned your taste from the very beginning darling," Andrea was pleased to hear a small amount of levity in the words even as she felt dampness on her cheek where Miranda's touched her own, "And I find increasingly that I do not wish you to change it."
"Good," Andrea pulled back slightly, pleased to see a twinkle in her wife's eyes that was too often missing in the wake of her illness, "Because you've been unsuccessful this far, I don't rate your chances." Leaning back she turned off the taps. Miranda allowed her wife to undress her, removing the many layers which were designed not only to keep her warm but also mask exactly how much weight she had lost during her treatment and Andrea ensured to run warming hands over every inch of exposed, chilled skin. As soon as all of her clothes were removed Andrea nudged her into the tub and poured her a glass of wine, settling herself on the vanity across from the bath and taking a drink from her own.
"Join me?" Miranda asked shyly, it had been so long since she had allowed herself to feel the full, naked, length of her wife against her and she found that right in that moment there was nothing she wanted more. Andrea didn't need to be told twice and it wasn't until Miranda reached out and squeezed a fumbling hand and whispered, "Take your time darling." That she stopped and took a breath. Squeezing the hand over hers she leant down and kissed her wife before beginning again, much slower this time.
"Scoot forward," she said when she was undressed and she had moved her wine to the side of the tub. Slipping in behind Miranda she wrapped her arms around the other woman's stomach and pulled her back into her, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. "This is nice."
"Mmm." Miranda purred, resting her head back against the younger woman's shoulder and smiling, "It is." She'd been so ashamed and uncomfortable in her skin after the surgery and the treatment that she had hidden herself away, avoided as much as she could being fully undressed in front of her wife, never mind her wife actually touching her. Andrea had been incredibly patient and understanding, making sure that Miranda knew that she loved her, that she was there as soon as she was ready and how good it felt in that moment made her wish she hadn't been so ridiculous.
"How are you feeling?" Andrea asked, stroking her hands over her wife's stomach, pleased that she felt slightly more substantial in her arms than she had recently. The rate at which the weight had dropped of Miranda once her treatment started had been the most terrifying thing for Andrea. While Miranda had always been petit she had always been toned and strong and as the strength left her Andrea was terrified that the fight would leave her too. She should have known better, this was Miranda Priestly she was dealing with.
"Content." Miranda hummed, twisting so she could press her cheek to the other woman's chest, her fingers leaving wet trails across tanned skin, "I can't thank you enough for staying by my side through all of this."
"You don't need to thank me," Andrea brushed her hand over Miranda's cheek and kissed her lightly, "When I married you I said in sickness and in health and I meant it. I'm not going anywhere unless I'm going there with you. Now relax before someone comes banging on the door with their rubber ducks and submarines!"