A/N 1: This is a story that will be told in 12 parts, one for each month, over the course of a year. The first one is really short, I'm sorry!
April
It's quiet in the office, especially for a weekday. Andy supposes it might have a little to do with the fact that Emily has been sent down the hall to the accessories department on a quest from Miranda. She was told not to come back until she has exactly what Miranda is looking for. Andy wonders why Miranda sent Emily on such a quest, when Andy is certain she could find what Miranda is looking for in half the time. Her boss isn't has hard to read as she thinks she is, especially if you know what to look for. The pursed lips are the most famous, but there's also a tightened jaw, gently squinting eyes, and a delicate finger resting on a lip. Andy Sachs has become somewhat if an expert in reading Miranda Priestly.
Still, she is a little glad Emily is away from the desk. The rain outside and the subsequent gloomy day has kept most people indoors and quiet. It's unseasonably chilly, the perfect day to curl up with a book and a blanket. Andy suspects that in other offices around Manhattan, employees have gone home early this Friday afternoon or even worked from home the entire day. Unlike most Runway employees, Andy would never dream of such a thing. Time spent away from Runway is time spent away from Miranda. And she can't afford to lose any precious moments.
It's kind of ridiculous, actually. Andy spends more of her waking moments thinking about Miranda than what is proper. She feels more committed to her than she did to her last boyfriend. Part of her knows that it can't end well – Miranda is out of her league, out of her pay grade, and seemingly heterosexual. But still, there's that little part inside of Andy that has no choice but to keep hope alive, she isn't even near ready to let go of her dreams of Miranda.
There are certainly dreams. Daydreams and others that take place while she is asleep. Andy dreams of taking Miranda's hand as they cross a street, cooking her dinner, spending time with her daughters, making love to her for hours and hours. Half the time she feels crazy, and the other half of the time she spends trying to reign in her heartache.
What's crazier still is that she wonders if Miranda is the chilly ice queen that people make her out to be. Of course there was the tumultuous period where it seemed like Miranda lived only to insult Andy and degrade her work performance. But then all of a sudden Miranda realized that there was a person underneath all those foul clothes and unplucked eyebrows, and a smart one at that. Andy has learned and grown under Miranda's watchful eye, and been one of few to decode the Dragon. Sometimes Miranda is even pleasant to her second assistant, if not nice.
In the Runway office on this particular afternoon, the phone hasn't rang for a good hour, and Andy is a little restless. She gets up to make a cup of tea, mostly for something to do. Before she heads to the little kitchenette off the side of her desk, she decides to ask her boss if she would like one too. She is fairly certain that Miranda won't mind the interruption. Recently, the dragon's fire has become a tiny candle flame when directed at Andy. It's more of a comforting heat rather than a scorching fire.
Miranda is sitting quietly at her desk, a statue surrounded by pristine glass. She's ditched her suit jacket, draped it across the back of her chair, and the stark white of her dress shirt plays up nicely with her coif of hair. At the sound of Andy's footsteps she looks up, and Andy tries not to get distracted by the dark blue of her eyes or by the small smile she is sure is part of her imagination.
"I was going to make a cup of tea," Andy says quietly, afraid to disturb the comfortable shroud of rainy silence surrounding them.
"Mmm," Miranda contemplates, "that would be nice." Her eyes trail up her assistant's body, starting with her Choo pumps and ending with the chestnut hair framing her face. Andy smiles her wide-toothy grin despite the blush she is sure to be sporting.
"Okay," says Andy, even though she didn't intend for her words to sound so breathless.
"Okay," Miranda repeats. Andy is sure Miranda didn't mean to sound that way either.
Andy turns on her heel and walks back to the kitchen. She takes a chance and sways her hips a little extra when she walks. If she isn't crazy, and in fact does feel Miranda's eyes on her ass, she wants to at least put on a good show.
Tea is made with microwaved hot water and a smile. The kitchen is clean due it its rare use by Runway employees. Not many people would be caught dead heating up leftovers to eat at their desk. Andy takes extra care stirring a teaspoonful of honey into each cup of earl grey.
When Andy makes her way back to Miranda's office, her boss has moved from her chair to peering out the raindropped window. Her left hand plays with the beaded necklace at her throat, while her right wraps gently around herself. Andy imagines it's a little chilly by the window, but Miranda looks perfectly content to stare out of it, watching the passing cars and foot traffic below. Everyone is hunched under umbrellas or moving swiftly through the falling water. All of them, tiny as ants. Andy couldn't feel more far away from them all if she tried. Right here, in Miranda's office, standing next to a woman who is just so lovely, it's hard to feel anything other than her presence.
Without a word, Andy hands a mug of steaming tea to Miranda. Andy took extra care to let her fingers caress Miranda's in the exchange. She might be playing with fire, but when she's this close to Miranda it's hard to let the fear of being burned overshadow her desire. She watches as her boss lets the warmth from the mug seep into her fingers and the steam curl gently around their faces. Miranda hasn't taken her eyes off the window and Andy hasn't taken her eyes off Miranda.
Miranda takes a tentative sip, and Andy loses her breath a little bit. She doesn't know why she is still standing here, watching her boss watch the city through her window. She should have gone back to her desk minutes ago.
Miranda lets out a little hum of pleasure as the liquid passes her lips. "That's good," she says quietly.
For an assistant so unused to praise, this might be too much for Andy's poor little heart to handle. She looks down and clears her throat to hide the blush that she is sure once again tinges her cheeks. When Andy takes a chance, looking back up into the eyes of her statuesque boss once again, she is caught off guard by the desire she finds within them. Oh no, this is not good. If Miranda keeps looking at her that way she doesn't know what she'll do, but she's sure it will most certainly not be appropriate for the office.
Andy takes a sip from her own forgotten mug of tea. It's too hot but she doesn't mind the distraction. "
It is good," she replies to Miranda's own sentiment.
A pale sculpted eyebrow raises, almost in challenge. Andy's toes curl in her shoes.
The heated moment passes, and Andy turns away to look out the window herself. She watches the people and puddles below but can't help but reflect on how this moment with Miranda feels like the start of something. Miranda occasionally glances her way as if sizing her up. Andy tries to stand as casually tall as she can, as if to say "I'm up for the challenge." And she is. Especially if Miranda is the reward.
A flurry of activity bustles into Miranda's outer office, and she and Andy snap out of their silent conversation. Emily can be heard cursing over tangled bags of Cartier watches and Hermes scarves. For all Emily does for Miranda she remains blissfully oblivious to the interactions between her boss and the second assistant. It's probably for the best. Miranda's going through a divorce and mending a friendship and trying to be the best mother to her girls. The last thing she needs are suspicious eyes constantly wandering in her direction.
Andy takes the mostly empty mug from Miranda and takes it back to the kitchen to wash. Truthfully, she needs a moment away from her boss to piece together all of her thoughts.
Back at her desk, Andy's day goes on. People filter in for the run through, Emily runs off for more accessories, Miranda keeps casting contemplative glances in Andy's direction while Andy tries not to squirm in her seat. Whatever this thing is with Miranda, she hopes it starts soon. Andy's not sure of how much more waiting she can take.
A/N 2: I'm exploring not writing in second person. We'll see how this goes, yeah?
A/N 3: The next part should be up soon.
A/N 4: As always a thank you from the bottom of my heart to anyone who took the time to read.