Title: Surrender and Certainty
Fandom: the Devil Wears Prada
Pairing: Miranda/Andy
Rating: M
Summary: AU - Andy must lie to Miranda to do her job and bring down an elaborate crime ring involving Irv Ravitz. Circumstances will force Andy back into Miranda's professional and personal life whether the editor wants it or not. Will she be able to trust the brunette and let her in to her heart?
Disclaimers: Not mine, obviously. Just taking them out of the box for entertainment and will return them when finished.
A/N: It's been a while since I've written anything with real life getting in the way. This is my first DWP fic although I've been reading as many as I can get my hands on recently. Please R&R, reviews are like cake (or girl scout cookies if you're into that)!

Chapter One

Andy stood watching from the darkened corner of the room while the show came to a close. Her eyes were trained on the woman sitting in the front row with one leg crossed over her knee and hands settled in her lap. Her hair was done up as it always was in the perfect iconic coif. Most people thought her hair had gone entirely white but Andy knew that if you took a closer look there was just a hint of strawberry blonde still mixed in with the rest of it. There was no doubt a scowl forming at the corner of her mouth as her lips became a thin line due to the show being entirely subpar for the designer. The chair on the editor's immediate left remained empty; normally it would be where Andy would have sat jotting down notes as the woman whispered in her ear with a hand resting on her arm. She was sure that the editor was unaware she had that particular habit. A small shiver ran through her at the thought of Miranda's mouth being so close to her ear and her hot breath sending a very pleasant sensation to her core.

She sighed closing her eyes trying to rid herself of the images in her head of Miranda licking the shell of her ear and whispering how much she wanted her. It was this particular fantasy that played over and over in her head even during her waking moments. God, she wanted the woman so badly it hurt. It was part of the reason she had to walk away now. Last night had been when she made the decision to leave Paris tonight. It pained her but it was necessary. The woman had come to mean so much more to her than she had even realized until she saw the pain she was in the previous night.

- Last Night -

Andy sighed as she stood in the doorway to Miranda's suite; there was no pretending any longer. She was in deep. Looking at this woman, this strong mercurial woman, in this state made her want to fix everything. She knew at that moment she had done the one thing she had tried to avoid at all costs and had been doing a good enough job up till then (denying it anyway). But now that the walls were down and she saw the woman in such a vulnerable state, she knew without a single shred of doubt that she was in love. She had broken the cardinal rule of not getting personally attached in an undercover assignment.

"Oh, there you are," Miranda's voice was harsher than normal from crying. She cleared her throat. "We need to go over the seating, uh…" she waved her glasses around, "chart. For the luncheon."

"Oh," Andy was mildly disappointed that the woman wouldn't confide in her. "Okay, sure thing," Andy said as she dug through her messenger bag.

"By all means, move at a glacial pace. You know how that thrills me."

Andy handed her the mock up chart and waited to take notes. "Let's move Donatella to my table, Stephen isn't coming."

"He's not… so I won't need to fetch him from the Airport?"

"Well, if you speak to him and he decides to rethink the divorce; then, yes, fetch away. You're very fetching, so go fetch." Andy bristled slightly but ignored the barb. Miranda was in pain and more than likely felt as if she had failed her children once again as another father figure walked away from her. It was all Andy could do to not go to her on the settee and try to comfort her; she had wanted so desperately to take her pain away. She knew it would be unwelcome, however, and instead helped with the rearranging of the seating chart for the luncheon the next day, all the while she watched the editor in her peripheral vision as she stared off into space.

Andy stopped writing when Miranda stopped speaking. She still looked like she was miles away. "And then, when we get back to New York, we need to contact, uh, Leslie to see what she can do to minimize the press on all this." The brunette did not reply but waited for further instruction. "Another divorce, splashed across Page Six. I can just imagine what they're going to write about me. The Dragon Lady, career-obsessed. Snow Queen drives away another Mr. Priestly. The Devil in Prada wrecks another marriage. Rupert Murdoch should cut me a check for all the papers I sell for him…" the editor paused. "I don't really care what anybody writes about me. But my girls my girls, I just… It's so unfair to the girls; another disappointment, another letdown, another father figure gone…" she chuckled disparagingly.

"I'm so sorry, Miranda," Andy finally said unable to hold in her sympathy even though she knew it would be unwanted. "If you want me to cancel your evening, I can," she offered.

"Don't be ridiculous. Why would we do that?"

Andy sighed. "Is there anything else I can do?"

"Your job," Miranda said with a small amount of venom in her voice. Andy knew that it wasn't necessarily directed at her, the editor was lashing out because she felt like a failure, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

"Miranda…"

"I do not want nor do I need your pity." The editor's eyes turned cold. "Get. Out."

Andy balked. Surely her expression was that of the utmost sincerity and concern? "I do not pity you. Admire, yes. Respect, definitely. But pity you?" she shook her head. "Never. I am merely concerned," she replied crossing her arms over her chest.

"Why?" Miranda demanded with slight intrigue. She quickly became irritated with Andy's lack of an answer. "Well, do enlighten me."

The brunette sighed and ran a hand through her long chestnut locks. "Because, I care," she finally answered.

Miranda scoffed and threw her glasses on the coffee table. "And why would care about some "ice queen" like me?"

Andy froze. She wasn't sure she should divulge that information. She wasn't supposed to break cover, telling Miranda the truth would require she tell her the whole truth and nothing but including her real age, name, and profession. The woman would likely be livid with her and feel betrayed. "Because I do, do you really need me to give you a reason? Is it so hard for you to believe that someone cares for you and just you? Not just simply for your money, power, or influence?"

"Do you take me for a fool, Alexandréa?" the editor glared. "All anyone ever wants from me is what I can offer them to further their career or political standing. You expect me to believe you want nothing from me? Why should you be any different?" Miranda had stood up during her rant, her robe falling slightly open and exposing the soft alabaster skin of her neck, shoulder, and a small portion of her chest. She had wanted to desperately tell the older woman the truth but her brain to mouth connection seemed to stop working at the sudden exposure of skin. The editor caught on rather quickly at Andy's reaction. "Oh!" Miranda exclaimed sarcastically. "I see," she shook her head with a sneer forming at the corner of her mouth. "You want me for my body." It wasn't a question. "I am not blind," Andy stood there completely dumbfounded. Of course she had picked up on the way Andy watched her every move and had instantly frozen at the briefest glimpse of skin. "Everyone wants something, Alexandréa."

The satisfactory sneer that formed on her lips set Andy off. "There is just no winning with you." Miranda had seen right through her and shredded her where she stood with a tongue lashing based off a mere observation in the last few seconds. She felt her shoulders slump in defeat and she turned to leave the suite. She would not let Miranda speak to her this way when all she did was care about the woman.

"Don't you dare walk away from me!" the editor yelled pointing an accusing finger her way. Obviously, she was pissed that Andy had made her feel any sort of guilt.

Andy turned back to her, chocolate eyes near charcoal. "Isn't that what you ultimately want?" She accused the editor. "It's so much easier for you to push and push than to admit you might have some sort of feelings that make you human or appear to be weak." Miranda stood in front of her speechless. Andy was sure it was the first time in a long time. She felt tears pooling in her eyes, she should leave while she still had some of her dignity left and before Miranda stripped her bare only to cut her down with the deep lashes of her words. "I love you," she confessed. "That's why I came here tonight. Because seeing you in pain is unbearable. Because I wanted to make sure you were alright. I know you don't believe that anyone could love you for who you are but I've seen you at your worst and your best. I've seen you with the girls. I've seen you when you push everyone around you to be better than they are. You are demanding, rude, and downright cruel sometimes; you infuriate me to no end. But you are also amazing, dedicated, and passionate. I see you, Miranda, not the Dragon Lady or Snow Queen, just you. I want nothing more from you than your heart, which I know you cannot give me," with her final words uttered she left a speechless Miranda standing behind and shut the door.

-Present -

Andy shook her head at the memory of their interaction last night willing the disheartening scenes away from her mind. She didn't want to keep reliving them but had a feeling she would. The brunette was leaving soon but had to have one last look at the beautiful complicated woman who had stolen her heart without her knowing it. She sighed and pushed off the wall behind her as the lights came up and the music ceased. She would need to take her exit before the mercurial woman spotted her, which wouldn't take her ny time at all if Andy stuck around for much longer. It was easier this way, as much as Andy wanted to explain and confess everything she had kept from Miranda, the editor would likely not forgive her. Yes, she sighed, it was better to walk away without saying goodbye. She wouldn't have to face the other woman and defend her words from the night before because there was no way in hell the editor would believe a word of it after Andy told her the truth.

She returned to her complimentary room and gathered her belongings. She would be on a flight back to New York within the hour and in her own apartment about eight hours after that. Then, she had the weekend to prepare herself for the takedown scheduled for Monday morning; that is until a knock sounded at her door. Andy sighed tempted to just let whoever was there keep knocking until they left but decided against it. After the fifth round of serious knocking she opened the door and deflated at the sight of Nigel looking more harried than usual. "What the hell were you thinking?" he asked pushing past her and into her room.

"Nigel, please, do come in…" she grumbled.

"You left her in the middle of the busiest week of the year."

"I had to," Andy sighed. This wasn't supposed to happen. Now she'd have to tell at least Nigel and lord knows no one could keep a secret from Miranda. Even Andy had to be careful how she worded every statement and control each reaction to not give herself away.

"Rubbish! You had to…" he shook his head. "What is the matter with you? She was finally letting someone in; she trusted you."

"Nigel, you don't understand," Andy replied sinking into one of the lounge chairs.

"Explain it to me then. Here you are in a hotel suite paid for but not by you or Runway. What is going on? I had to bribe the front desk to even give me your room number. Thankfully it was listed under Andy or I never would have found you."

Andy rubbed her face while siting slightly forward. "I'm an FBI agent," she said fully expecting him to think she was crazy. When she glanced at him her suspicion was confirmed. His mouth was hanging open in disbelief. She rose from the chair and walked to her purse where her badge was. She dug around for it and then threw it on his lap along with her personal ID.

The art director looked it over and for a while remained silent. He looked up at her and then back down to the proof that she was in fact not lying. "Is it Miranda? Are you investigating her?"

Andy shook her head. "We eliminated her as a suspect fairly early; my first week as her assistant actually. We're after Ravitz. He's been involved in money laundering through the magazine and is under investigation of human trafficking as well," the brunette explained feeling a weight leave her shoulders. "Do not repeat a word of this, Nigel. It would cost me my career."

"I'm shocked and yet not, which I know makes little sense. My lips are sealed. But," he scratched his head. "Correct me if I am wrong, but this is not why you left."

Andy shook her head. Of course he would figure it out. "No, it's not," she ran a hand through her long chestnut hair. "Miranda is."

"Talk to me, Six," he said standing. "I know you; you would have never walked out like that. What happened?" Andy recounted last night's events to him with unshed tears shinning in her eyes. "Oh honey, I'm so sorry," he hugged her. "You have to know she does feel something and is just scared. You have to fight for her."

"I do know that, Nigel. The problem is what will she do when she finds out I've lied to her this whole time and I'm not who I said I was? What if she just tosses me to the side?"

"I honestly don't know, but neither do you, unless you try. You cannot start a relationship on a foundation of lies. You'll have to tell her."

She nodded knowing he was right. "She's not the only one who is scared. The way she treated me last night," Andy shook her head. "I can't handle that again, not right now."

"Six, she is always going to be the Dragon Lady with a sharp wit and even quicker tongue. The only thing you need to ask yourself is if Miranda, the woman, is worth it. So, is she?"

Andy contemplated his question long after he left. She was unfortunately due at the airport and needed to leave but promised to stay in touch giving him her personal cell phone number. She sat in the cab waiting for traffic to part when she saw the familiar car she had rode in with the woman all week. Andy observed her as she gracefully emerged from the car, hair still just as perfect. The editor was a sight in her red Prada pumps, tan Donna Karen slacks, white Michael Kors blouse, and black Versace trench coat. Then again, the woman was always a sight, even without make-up and tear stained cheeks. The editor in question stopped and looked around no doubt feeling Andy's eyes on her. Miranda scanned her surroundings until finally her eyes landed on the brunette's. Her reactions did little to assuage the quilt gnawing at Andy for leaving this way. She was confused but recognition flashed in her eyes. The editor knew she was in the cab and Andy looked away. She could have at least said goodbye, given her two weeks, tried to explain.

Andy felt a twinge of pain shoot through her chest as the cab pulled away from the curb and into traffic. She turned around in her seat as they passed to take one last look at the woman she would likely never see again.