Achilles' Heel

Andy Sachs had yet to find any Achilles' heel in Miranda Priestly. The older woman seemed to have no such thing. She was always in perfect control of herself, her actions and her words were carefully calculated to show only what she wanted to show – which usually was contempt, annoyance and impatience. Her elegance and appearances were always impeccable, she didn't merely have dignity, she was dignity in every sense of the word. Andy had worked for her for little over a year now, and was certain there was nothing in the world that could ruin Miranda's poise.

Until now.

Heading towards a run through, Miranda suddenly stopped in her tracks and froze. Andy nearly walked right into her, a faux-pas that would have rendered her a harsh comment and possible losing of the job, but Miranda hardly seemed to notice her presence at all. She sniffed loudly in the air.

"Tell me, Andrea, that I do not smell freesias".

Her voice sounded as low and calm as ever, but there was a hint of genuine fear in her blue eyes.

"Um, no, I… I don't think…" Andy began. She could only feel the scent of Miranda's perfume. Miranda brought a delicate hand up to her nose and pinched it while her breathing grew faster and shallower.

What the hell is she doing? Andy thought, but she got the answer rather quick. Miranda's hitching stopped, and she took one deep, sharp inhale and then did something utterly unladylike, un-Runway-worthy, un-Miranda.

She sneezed.

It was almost completely silent, stifled so well only a slight sound escaped, while her shoulders shuddered for a split second. From watching her boss's flaring nostrils, fluttering eyelids and parting lips, Andy was sure the older woman was going to sneeze again. She frantically searched her Prada handbag for some designer Kleenex to offer, all the while wondering what the correct protocol was in a situation like this – was she supposed to bless Miranda, or just pretend she didn't notice?

Andy found the tissues and handed them to Miranda, who was now caught up in a violent sneezing fit that could no longer be restrained despite her efforts. Her slender body doubled by the force, her nose streaming as were her eyes. Her mascara was running down her face and her entire makeup was ruined.

"Oh my God, Miranda, you're allergic to freesias aren't you?" Andy said, suddenly understanding Miranda's rants about not wanting to have freesias anywhere near her.

Miranda had managed to catch her breath a little and tried to restore some of her menacing glory as she replied;

"No Andrea, of course not. I only perform this pointless act of human weakness for…" she sniffled wetly "sheer amusement", she managed to finish before succumbing to another sneeze. "This is unacceptable. Cancel this appointment and get me home, if you think you can manage".

"Yes Miranda".

"AH-EECHOO!"

"Bless you".

Miranda's watery, reddening, but still piercing eyes stared into hers.

"What?"

"Nothing, Miranda".