'SHMILYM' was written on her car window again. Roy even noticed it.

It happened every morning this week.

It was also was seen by Emily and her two o' clock appointment, on a paper coffee cup in marker of curly penmanship delivered by a security guard named Danny.

Miranda had to ask them tonight, what it meant.

A yule log decorated with marzipan holly leaves was made to order by Natalie from Glorious Foods, along with a bottle of Krug Brut Blanc de Noirs Champagne Clos d'Ambonnay, 2000 from Miranda's wine broker, each were ordered by herself, not by Emily, who just knew it, Miranda was seeing someone this Christmas.

Overhearing Miranda's two o' clock appointment's conversation, Emily was always discreet at trying not to listen in on her white haired boss's conversations about anything personal.

Emily couldn't help it, today was slow.

Most staff were on holiday.

"Miranda just join us, and stay the weekend. I can guarantee lots of snow by the weather forecast, mulled wine, a few manly hedge fund bankers in ugly sweaters who would love to partake in your bacis and kiffles, and delectable rum cake and malasadas."

"I don't make delectable rum cake or malasadas, Libby."

"Well, Clara in the city and Iberia, my country housekeepers do."

"Libby, I can't make it, this Christmas. I have other plans." Miranda replied softly.

Libby King didn't quite believe her, the divorce from Stephen was only two months ago, and Miranda hadn't been spotted with anyone new and any hunky in Miranda's life she'd know about.

She wasn't seen out with any of Hale's colleagues.

Page Six hadn't even made a list of who she might date. That list always made Miranda wince, she did not measure anyone she loved by how big their portfolios were.

"Plans?" Libby repeated out in disbelief.

"Yes. Plans." Pushing her reading glasses back on her nose, "Libby I've met someone." Pressing her pink lips together as she cut a long sheet of red wrapping paper out in a straight line.

"So tell me about him?" Enjoying putting her friend right on the spot immensely, her offer of a weekend at her place in Connecticut was being turned down too quickly in her opinion.

Not quite believing her, that Miranda had plans and was really seeing anyone, it was probably just a flimsy excuse not to start dating again.

Stephen had really hurt her. Libby had planned on Miranda staying at her country place this Christmas weekend, she already had her dinner table arranged and had enjoyed planning an innocent pairing up with someone wanting to meet Miranda, his name was Justin, he was tall, handsome and nothing like Stephen but now Miranda's plans were what, spend a lonely Christmas Eve having a plate of roast chicken and watch The Holiday while snuggling with Patricia.

"Him?" Miranda questioned Libby over her glasses.

"Miranda yes him, your rebound. Tell me, is it Brent or Marco?"

"Libby, I am not seeing Brent!"

"Fine, Marco is more of a have a fling with."

"Libby, I would never have sex with Marco." Marco was everything any divorcee would want but not this white haired divorcee.

"Never is a strong word, Miranda. Fine, so he's not Marco. Just share, is he cute? Do I know him? Does he fill out a Viyella?"

Quirking a small smile at Libby. "No, but they do wear cerulean blue well."

"So what are you giving him?" Spying the full shopping bags on Miranda's small couch.

Miranda was wrapping each of her gifts up herself. He had to be pretty special to her.

"Does he golf?" Libby enquired. Miranda shook her head adamantly.

"Did you get him a tool set? Hale loves power tools."

Miranda could just picture Emily in a Home Depot.

Miranda knew that drills and power tools were not what they'd want to open.

"Hale loves GIVI helmets, so I got him the set. Does he want something electric, shiny with lots of buttons?"

"No."

Miranda scrunched her nose up as she folded the sheet of wrapping paper over the gift neatly. She was not giving them an Italian bike helmet collection or an Ipod.

They didn't mean anything special from her.

"Gloves then." Miranda thought it was too soon to start dressing her new person in her life.

"Boxers." Given a strange look by Miranda.

"Briefs, organic cotton. Does he go au natural?" Libby grinned naughtily.

Libby craned a peek at the contents of the bags. "Mira, a new shaving kit is always something guys need. That and socks."

A razor and shaving cream with socks was not really conveying her feelings to who Libby thought was a typical male.

Libby listened intently about Miranda's rebound as she held out a piece of scotch tape for Mira, learning that he was a sci fi and history time travelling geek, by a few book titles bought by Mir, reading one, at least he was smart.

Probably wore Aran sweaters and had a sexy stubble and quoted Keats in the rain. Miranda was so lucky.

Hale now only called a great night with her was, staying in, playing Uno and eating Korean takeout.

Miranda shared that he was a good kisser, and was desperate to travel more, and especially outside of the US but had only been just for a few days to Paris but for work not pleasure and he sounded absolutely perfect for her friend.

"They're younger." Miranda shared shyly.

Younger. Virile. Libby thought that was great, she was impressed, all goney, Stephen was replaced with younger, fitter hotter rebound.

Noticing it on Miranda's coffee cup.

"This is cute." Fingering the paper cup communique.

Libby was as stumped as Miranda over it, also having no idea what it meant. 'SHMILYM.' She'd have to drill her son on 'SHMILYM', since he only communicated with emoji's and Pokémon.

"How did you both get together?" Libby was very curious now.

Miranda stilled at this question of Libby's, it happened last week quite suddenly and quite unexpected.

"Car & Cassi were at Greg's parents last weekend and we sort of ran into each other."

"What's his name?"

"Andy." Miranda shared as she was concentrating on tying a bow.

"Like your last assistant?"

Miranda nodded fully, curling the ribbon with scissors. "Yes, but I never call her Andy. I prefer Andrea."

Libby blinked at her friend, wait did Miranda just say her?

Emily almost dropped her folders she was pretending to organize, in shock. Miranda was dating Andy!?

As in Andy bloody Andrea Sachs. Her, the style concussed cow was with Miranda.

Nigel over drinks on Boxing Day, would need to be told this news gently. Sitting down.

Emily had to almost smirk a little at the news, she was right. She knew it. There was something there between them. She told her therapist about this synergy between them she saw develop.

Plus Miranda always let Andrea ride in the elevator with her was Emily supposed, subtle flirting.

Of course not eviscerating Andy's journalist career to ashes and letting her go, unscathed, Emily thought was all very Casablanca-ish –only without the Nazis and tormented refugees

"The call me Andy, who hates you?" Libby blurted out, holding a piece of tape out.

Miranda mouth twitched into a smile on Libby in confirmation, taking it.

"Yes the call me Andy who I discovered does not hate me, Andrea and I reconnected last Saturday, she took my bag and brought out the worst in me."

Andy balanced her shopping bags that had been jostled on the subway, as she turned the key in her apartment door, slipping off her winter coat and boots to just pad around in socks.

She had a whole two weeks off. Finally. Time to break out the reindeer socks and enjoy her subscription to Film Struck, settling down her groceries.

Pj's and Hallmark Christmas movie marathon and gorging on chocolate was in store.

Nate was gone. Doug and Lily wouldn't speak to her still.

Andy shrugged, she'd just have Christmas by herself.

Rummaging through her packages, stopping on one, no way, what in hell was she doing with Miranda Priestly's order?

Realizing the last boutique must've thought she still worked for Miranda.

Placing it on her sofa.

Andy wasn't going to look in it. That lasted around ten minutes for Andy. Pulling it out with a blush at what it was in it, scanning the receipt, being a little nosy. Andy mouthed out. Nine hundred bucks for one bra and a thong.

Andy paced. She should call her. Yup she'd just call her. And say "Hi Miranda, I have your panties."

Stopping her long trembling digits on pressing a number she still had in her phone.

Andy ran her hand frustrated through her long chestnut hair, at what to do, she'd Uber it to Miranda's door.

That or get a bike courier. Andy decided against both.

Grabbing it and her keys.

Andy would go deliver this herself, which meant they'd be face to face.

Why did she now have to know Miranda's bra size and uhm …now all she could think about was Miranda's breasts, that and she wore nine hundred dollar black thongs?

Lights were on, Miranda was home. Great. Andy squared her shoulders, she could do this.

Pressing the doorbell again. Seeing Miranda's outline coming to get her door.

Meeting icy blue eyes encased in surprise at her, here.

"Hi. Miranda." Andy croaked out in a greeting. Seeing that Miranda was dressed for going out to a function. Andy didn't know her diary now like she use to, but she looked incredibly sophisticated and really beautiful well Andy was just in faded jeans she'd had since her first year in college.

Miranda's pale fingers gripped the door, why was Andrea here tonight?

"Hello again, Andrea." Her look was making Andrea nervously swallow.

"It's a nice night. Not too cold. But snow is forecasted and coming." Andy babbled on.

As Miranda just stared at the brunette in her doorway, making Andy feel like a complete idiot.

"Why are you here?" Miranda demanded.

Andy just shook the bag mutely at her.

In all her times near the white haired beauty at Runway, Andy had never seen Miranda Priestly blush.

Miranda took it, brushing Andy's palm, her mouth thinning with pure embarrassment as she felt her cheeks burning hot.

Deciding to not acknowledge the bag of lingerie.

"So you're at the Mirror, Congratulations, I'm honestly very happy for you! Now that you have a life of "artistic" poverty ahead of you. Do enjoy its many prole charms. Goodbye."

Andy blinked now wait a minute. She brought her that bag of break the GDP, bra & thong, out of sheer season goodwill.

"So Miranda, tell me, did you make it up to Nigel yet?"

Miranda almost froze in mid door closing. Her eyes were cold on Andy's. Those words cut her to her core, which made her limpid blue eyes, hard and bitter.

Not wanting to face Andrea's judgement on her about Paris. No thanks, she thought to herself, not from perky little Ohioans. Andrea had this way of making her feel small about what she had to do to Nigel.

Putting Andrea down about her new job, she knew she was in the wrong to say that right to Andrea's face, but she didn't want to back down. And she wouldn't. Not with her last assistant.

What she'd done in Paris to Nigel was no longer Andréa's business. Andrea had abandoned Runway. Which hurt her, no, Andrea had greatly disappointed her. That was giving Andrea too much power.

"Miranda, I really wanted to apologize for leaving like I did." Andy mumbled out.

Miranda held the bag tightly in her grip. "Apologize? Oh I see, of course, you want to say how sorry you were about almost ruining fashion week for me. Now you decide to show up?

It's about a few months overdue. Andréa. What should I expect from a person like you, who just runs away when it suits her? You just…left." Miranda accused.

"Miranda, yes I left you but please just let me explain my reasons…"

"No. Andrea. I can't do this now. Please just leave." She was going to be late now. All because of Andrea.

Shutting her door on Andy who was left there, staring at the townhouse door.

Every part of Andy's matter said don't do it. She got out Miranda's key, she'd never turned this in with her security card. Using it and stepping inside Miranda's home.

Andy took a careful step and went slowly upstairs.

Miranda was not wearing that now. Big brown judging absconding eyes were on her mind and would be all evening now.

Andrea always brought out the worst in her. Slipping on a pair of heels. Andrea turned her cool composure into melted disaster.

She smoothed her black dress, fixing her lipstick in her bedroom mirror. Andrea always unnerved her. Not knowing why that bothered her so much. She fakes a smile in the reflection.

Honestly why had she accepted this, going out to dinner tonight?

Nancy & Guy's before the holidays chaos descend dinner party were full of couples. She'd be the only divorcee there.

Nancy hinted that one of Guy's male single friends was coming to it.

His name was Bryan. It was a set up.

Miranda loathed being paired up.

"Bryan, right? I mean, not Bryan Right. Or maybe you are Bryan Right. Either way, you're the right Bryan for me." Miranda looked horrified with herself.

Pinching her nose bridge. "Oh my god." She resets herself. "Hello Bryan, I am Miranda." Miranda winced at her rigid posture. "And I am a robot."

Miranda cricked her neck, she began to do some breathing exercises – inhale, exhale, inhale, and exhale.

Popping a mint from her dresser, in her mouth, and leans seductively forward. "Oooohh, that is so interesting, really? Well. I did not know that, Bryan. Oh that is too fascinating – you spent seventeen days without bathing while camping. "

Ewe. Nancy had mentioned this, she also said he was well bred and impeccably groomed, had shaggy brows, Nancy could have been describing a Westminster Kennel champion.

She began nearly choking on her mint, clearing her throat, binning it, she hated this, dating again and dinner parties. With the holidays soon, she'd be pitied as the just her with no more plus Stephen.

Spraying some perfume on, smoothing her white hair in place.

"Okay. You can do this. Just put yourself out there, see what might happen with Bryan."

Miranda zips her purse. Dreading this dinner party and meeting Bryan, he was the head of M & A at Guy's investment firm.

Standing straight, determined. Taking a deep breath as Patricia lounged on top of her bed, watching her.

"I wish Cassi and Car were here. I could stay in and make Spaghetti Bol and watch Pixar."

"Put yourself out there. Take chances. Patricia. Off."

The St. Bernard obeyed her, but began giving out a cute whine of protest noise that made Miranda pat her large lovable dog.

"Wish me luck." Miranda whispered into her fur.

Repeating out more advice to herself. "Get stronger thighs. Be more deviant. Learn Italian. Cook more!"

Miranda was resolute. "Understand the Israeli Palestinian conflict better."

Turning right into brown eyes. "When you do, explain it to me, will you?"

Patricia was some guard dog. Bounding up to her, Miranda saw her dog really liked Andrea, wagging her tail at her. Not even one growl issued.

Hissing at Andy. "How did you get in?" Andrea was trespassing. She was calling the police.

Andy showed the key between her fingers. "I never gave these back. You know if you don't want to be robotic with Bryan Right, just skip it, Miranda. I also like Pixar and Spaghetti Bol too."

"I will not be skipping a dinner party, Andrea!"

Miranda never would do a 'french leave', to Nancy and Guy, "Robotic, Spaghetti Bol…wait you were listening to me." Miranda waspishly realized.

Andy just grinned at her in response. Patricia was rolling over to expose her belly to Andy. "Yeah. By all means be deviant and get stronger thighs." Andy snorted but sobered at Miranda's icy look at her.

Miranda blanched at her last assistant. Andréa had heard her Miranthras.

"You little shit…

Andy reaches out and gently claps her hand over her mouth. And holds it there. It's unexpectedly tender and sexy.

"I know I bring out the worst in you, ok." Andy's face was really close to hers.

Miranda's blue eyes wide on hers.

"Miranda, yes I left you. I am so sorry about that. Believe me, I am. I couldn't stay. I just couldn't." Andy shared, still covering Miranda's mouth.

Blue eyes holding hers silently.

"I couldn't be near you every day and just be the fetcher."

"The Miranda girl." Andy huffed out. "When I wanted to be more to you. What, I want most of all for you to be happy. You deserve to be happy. And for what it's worth, I know you're not really that bad a person."

They'd locked eyes. Miranda's heart was beating hard in her chest.

Miranda's slick rouged mouth brushed Andy's inside palm.

"Not at all, with what you did for me."

Andy just gave a small uncertain smile, tender but tentative. "It would be easier for me, if there was some concrete reason why I should stop caring about you."

Elegant brows drew together at that said.

"But I don't want to stop caring about you Miranda. I can't do that. I belong only to you. I know this isn't a mutual thing at all. We're like chemical physical kryptonite. Can't you see how much I want you? Yes, you Miranda." Andy lips firmed and her dark expressive eyes reflected love in them.

"I've fallen for you."

Andrea wanted her. Belonged to her. Fallen for her. Startled by her words to her.

Andrea was close to her right now. Really, quite close. Had her mouth always looked so kissable and tempting?

Andy tenderly reached her other hand up to touch her white hair, as Miranda's chest constricted.

Uncovering Miranda's mouth just staring at her, her fingers stroking her face.

Finding her voice suddenly. "Andrea, stop," Andy almost leans into kiss her –then stops herself at her words to stop.

Andy dropped her other hand away and looked down at the carpet. Miranda saw that the brunette who always had made her so angry was now fragile in her presence.

"Andy, I… look at me please, won't you?" her eyes softened on her. Andy still didn't look up.

Miranda's clutch buzzed. Getting it out and answering the call, wishing Andrea would just look at her. "Yes Nancy. I know I'm a bit late…Oh Bryan's there."

Andy slumped. Making to go, placing the key down on Miranda's bed.

"Actually I won't be, I can't make it. Sorry I just found I have other plans. Yes. What should you tell Bryan, tell him, that I'm learning to…" her lips forming a sexy smile. "Take chances and be deviant."

Clasping her phone off as Miranda only felt it on her mouth, the warmth of her kiss, slowly meeting her lips, Miranda's fingers stroked the nape of Andy's neck, kissing her back.

Andy was hunched on her knees, Patricia had already slobbered her twice, her long fingers were rolling newspapers up and placing them into it, fresh cut cedar logs she piled up, a few little kisses were pressed to her nape, nuzzled against the back of her neck and hair.

Miranda's lips smoothed the back of her neck with another kiss,

"Hey, babe." Andy turned as flicked and lit it, the fireplace, she got up and brushed off her faded jeans and green crewneck sweater and wiped her face with the back of her hand, getting dirt smudged on her cheekbone.

"Andrea, you are not an extra in Mary Poppins."

Surveying her brunette closely. "Are those for me?" Brown eyes sparkling that Miranda had a hard time resisting lately.

Andrea had the monopoly on puppy dog eyes.

Plucking at one of the bags like Caroline and Cassidy, with a body language of presents with her name on it.

"Maybe." Miranda set them down under the tree as Andy thoughtfully took her other bags for her, admiring the boxed yule log.

An Ipod with speakers was on and playing 'Andy's Ho Ho Ho music list loud as Andy pulled her close.

"Mira, let's dance to this?" Miranda refused. She was not dancing to Wham's 'Last Christmas.'

"Perhaps, later. Sweeps."

"Fine, later it is, I'm holding you to a dance with me. Priestly." Andy conceded by the look given. "I'll grab a shower."

Miranda went upstairs to tell Andy where towels were, they hadn't slept together yet.

Almost that night they did when they first kissed but she stopped them, not ready.

Andy had left her weekend bag out on the bed, her things were spewed all over on it. Earbuds strewn and her phone was off.

Plucking up each discarded piece of clothing, on her bedroom floor, staring at reindeer socks crumpled in the open doorway as her mouth dried at Andy in the walk in shower.

In a strained voice, just staring at Andy naked and wet. "I left heated towels out."

Turning the wrong lever to cold. "Th-hanks." Andy chattered, quirking a wet smile through the shower glass. The cold water made her nipples pebble.

Andrea had less than 9 percent body fat, how had she ever called her fat.

Miranda slunk back, she was ogling Andrea and she was almost fifty, divorced, mother of two almost hitting puberty twins with a C-section scar and she owned Hermes purses older than Andrea.

"Yes Mom, it is snowing here." Refreshed as she pulled on an Aran sweater, drying her hair, Andy cradled the phone under her ear. Getting her gifts out for Miranda, smiling they were perfect for her.

She'd taken her time selecting each of them. One was a roll of film with the condition for use of the film, they must be in every picture.

Padding downstairs in candy cane socks.

"No I'm not spending Christmas with Doug. Or at Lily's. No, Mom, I am not lying on the sofa in a sea of Ferrero Rocher wrappers in my Northwestern sweatshirt till Boxing Day."

Miranda was really trying not to listening in to Andy and her Mom but she really couldn't help it.

Would Andrea tell her Mom about her?

"I've met someone new. No. Mom. I'm not putting them on. No she's not like Nate."

Andy and so did Miranda heard her Mom exclaim out loudly on the line. "She!"

"Mom yes, she, she's wonderful, she's so beautiful and warmer then I realized and I'm still amazed she's actually with me and she's giving me the eye to help her do dishes, so, I'll call you on New Year's." Ending the call quickly.

The dishes didn't need be done.

Miranda hadn't set the table with Wedgewood still deciding on Spode, as she selected a bottle of wine as Andy hung up fast on her Mom.

"Why didn't you want to put me on?" Miranda casually asked as she poured out the red liquid into each crystal glass, handing one out to Andrea.

Andy took it, cradling the glass, "No. Miranda trust me, you don't want my Mom on the phone with you. You'll be on till Boxing Day. When I do tell her it's you, expect many long calls taking up your days at Runway. I've warned you now to prepare for Mom."

Miranda didn't think that was a bad thing, was it?

Setting down her wine, stroking her face. "Mira, I'm telling her it's you at New Year's." Pulling her close, wrapping her arm around her, producing a wrapped gift held out to her.

Miranda took it, "Come on open it." Andy urged her, excited.

Basking in the present, Miranda did that.

Pulling at it. "An old shirt." It was a well-worn lumpy sports jersey.

"An old shirt? Gordie Howe wore that. That's Gordie Howe's game sweater. That – I've had that old shirt, 14 years. Gordie Howe. I'll get you something else." Andy complained.

"No. I like it." Miranda said.

It obviously meant a lot to Andrea. This number 9, baseball jersey. Fingering it with thinning lips.

"You hate it."

"No. I don't." Miranda lied.

It was just not what she expected. She'd hoped for something more special. Miranda pressed her lips together, Andrea not telling her Mom it was her, she was seeing. Calling her just 'she.' Not putting her on the phone with her.

Why didn't she? Was Andrea not serious about them?

Pinching her nose bridge, she was starting this again, what Stephen always had out with her, it was happening with Andrea too, she was going to mess this whole thing up.

Swallowing thickly and she really wanted it to work out.

But Andrea with her less than 9 percent body fat and pert nipples and not saying even her name to her mother, and this stupid gift that she did hate, and the words 'SHMILY', scrawled on car windows to greet her every morning this week, showed her how they were too different in everything.

Even their music taste as she muted Alvin and the Chipmunks.

"Where were you Christmas, 93, Andrea?"

Andy looked at her, confused by this question.

"I was one, Miranda." Andy shared. Why did Christmas in 1993 even matter to Miranda. They were in the here and now. Together.

"Yes, exactly. You were one. I was working at Runway when you were in diapers. Andrea I don't think we-this is going to work out." Her eyes focusing over Andy's shoulder at the tree they'd trimmed yesterday together.

"If this is about the jersey, I've got more gifts for you." Andy looked worried now.

"This is not about the old shirt, I don't even like sports. Why would you give me, something like that?"

"I knew it!" Andy's mouth hardened. "I gave that old shirt to you, because it meant something to me. I wanted you to have it. Tell me this, Mir, how come we haven't had sex yet?"

Miranda paled.

"Andrea we've just started this."

"Why haven't we exactly fucked yet?" Hurt about Miranda not liking her gift and lashing out at her.

"Is that all you want with me?" Her blue eyes hurt.

"Yes."

"Uhm… no, Miranda why are you like this tonight? Are you angry with me over this?" Holding the shirt up.

"Oh, I'm angry, absolutely with you." Not just about the gift, it was not telling her mother it was her, she was with. And calling if they made love, it was that to her not fucking. Mostly having it out over that silly immature 'SHMILYM' left on her window, and on her coffee cup.

"Andrea don't write on my window again."

Andy stilled at that declaration. Hurt eyes pierced hers. "Don't worry Miranda I won't mar your Mercedes again with my words."

"If you don't want me to stay tonight, fine, I'll just go, but say so, Miranda, just give me some idea of what you want, which would be really appreciated. Just once."

"Oh I'll tell you what I want. Right now, starting with 'leave Andrea." Going upstairs quickly.

"I'm fine. Perfect."

"You don't sound fine. Mira."

Patricia head was in her lap. Kleenex all around her. Glaring at Andy's screensaver of her in reindeer antlers.

"Andy gave you, whose sports shirt? Sweetie, you have to give a list next year. Else their just lost and end up buying you a blender or a jewellery at Macy's."

Catching Hale's eye, covering the phone. "Not you honey."

Libby couldn't say, Men, being that Andy wore a bra but was by what Miranda told her, just as insensitive as any guy around.

Hale was next to her, listening in as he was deciding on a board game. They hadn't made it to Litchfield with the heavy snowstorm.

Wiping her lids, blowing her nose. "She demanded why we haven't had sex yet." Mouthing to Hale, that Miranda was dating girls now.

Sex was different, no size ego stroking. It involved rose petals and body waxes.

Libby gently consoled on the line to Mir. "That is such a guy- sorry, girl, thinking of just sex. I can send a car. Donatella's just got here and she'll stay for hours. Hale. I don't think anybody wants to play Family Feud. I saw you eat that Mitch. Wait a sec, Miranda. I'm putting you on speaker."

"No. Libby. Don't."

Clara greeted Ms. Miranda along with a big "Hi." From Mitch who energetically greeted his godmother on the line, "My friend, Derek still thinks you're hot and to let you know he'll be nineteen in six years and tell him Andy's address and he'll sort him out."

Making her quirk a smile, Derek this summer had developed a bit of a crush on her.

"Mrs. P, I've got some mistletoe, want to try it out when you get here?

Through fresh tears, Miranda declined. "No. I don't think so Derek. Mitch tell your Mom, I'll see her in the New Year." Sniffling more.

"Wait, my Mom wanted me to tell you what, SHMILY means."

That didn't matter now. Andrea had left. It was over.

Mitch smiled through his braces. "See how much I love you."

"W-what?" Miranda clutched the phone.

"SHMILY means see how much I love you." Mitch shared this.

It did. "Mitch, thank you, I have to go, tell Derek my heart is spoken for. It's all Andy's."

Derek groaned in the background. "You've shattered my heart Ms. Priestly for life."

Miranda heard it playing softly, Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas by Kenny G in surround sound, stepping downstairs, and seeing that Andy had lowered the lights to only on the tree.

Calling out for her.

Andy silhouette was just made out, watching the snow falling through the french doors with the fireplace embering with her legs tucked up.

"I'm sorry. I'm a fool. I've ruined this. Ruined tonight." Miranda's wet eyes were brushed by long fingers.

"Please dance with me and see how much I love you. Always you. " Pressing her face to Andy's, with kisses along her neck and cheek and jaw, slowly moving closer to Andy's lips. Slipping up from the sofa, to meet her pelvis to hers as both moved to the soft song around them.

Rubbing up against her skin, Andy lips began tracing down her neck, holding her like she was her world as they danced.

Snow falling heavier, clasped to her. Her lips brushed her earlobe. "Do you want to open the rest of your gifts Miranda? I promise there not sports jerseys." Andy's eyes glinted in the firelight.

"No. I have to give you mine."

Stopping their slow dance and starting by pouring a glass of wine, taking a few sips to get the taste of it in her mouth, dipping her finger in the wine, she began to trace Andy's lips and mouth with her wine-soaked finger and lick the wine off slowly and gently, taking her time kissing Andy erotically.

Andy broke apart, swallowing as she saw in the firelight, what Miranda was wearing, she was in just a Filson leather jacket.

"Vintage." Miranda shared, holding her eyes coyly. "It does come with this." Opening it for her to see.

Andy brown eyes surveyed what was presented beneath it.

"Nice lining." Andy pointed out seemingly unmoved by her.

"Black lace?" Just looking at her.

"And a bow. Andrea."

Teasing her as Miranda gave a come and get me look in her blue eyes as the jacket was slipped off her milky shoulders, that Andy pressed her open mouth to and kissed along her bare skin, the jacket not needed anymore and slid her down onto the carpet, trying out being deviant on a snowy Christmas Eve with Miranda beneath her wearing nothing but the thousand dollar lingerie set that started this between them.