Mama's Boy
Rating: K
Pairing: Miranda/Andy
A/N 1: This has been written as a response to theladyholl's prompt for the 4TH ANNUAL POKE THE DRAGON, WAKE THE MUSE COMMENT FIC-A-THON: Grumpy Miranda because the baby only calms down/stops kicking when Andy's hands are on her & Andy has been on assignment for the last week.
A/N 2: Could be a standalone piece but goes better with my fic Memories in March. Can be read as an interlude. Could not stick to the word limit of course.
A/N 3: It started as something else and became something completely different. Anyhow, really hope it pokes your muse TLH because then we get an update of TFF so that I can read it and be in bliss!
A/N 4: Un-betaed, so all mistakes are mine and all the shit about copyright and bleh. Happy reading!
5th January 2008
1:07 a.m.
Hotel Bedroom
Baghdad, Iraq
'Hello? Miranda?' a sleepy Andy Sachs mumbles into the phone while she switches on the bedside lamp and squints to look at her wrist watch.
For a second a wave of terror courses through her body thinking something is wrong with her six month pregnant wife but she soon realizes it's probably just about 6 in the evening in Manhattan and there is no reason for Miranda to be not calling her.
'Must be nice, isn't it? Getting a full night's rest. I am not at all sorry to wake you up.' Miranda says into the phone through words dipped and marinated in envy.
Oops, shit Andy, get up and sit ramrod straight on the bed.
'Umm, uh-uh-yeah, it's okay.' Her mind is still fuzzy from sleep and the loose ends from the day's work regarding the US plans to keep Iraq under its control, so that's all she manages to say, for now.
'I have decided that your son is going to be as stubborn as you are. God knows whatever else of yours he is going to inherit; Taekwondo skills might be one of them.'
'Huh-O, oh?!' and slowly realization creeps into Andy's mind and inspite of having to deal with a grumpy Miranda she catches herself smiling. It's about their son of course. Then again, when is it not about him these days?
Miranda says she doesn't want to decide and talk too much about the future but she seems to mention the baby about thousand times a day in passing- 'he will call you Mama and me Mom.'; 'I will not allow you'll to shorten his name'; 'I've asked dear Giorgio to design a mini tuxedo for his christening, you don't think it's too much?! Of course it isn't!'; 'we are not going to do formula'; 'he's going to play polo and learn French' etcetera etcetera and Andy had taken all these 'suggestions' (read orders) with a pinch of salt from her hormone crazed delirious pregnant wife.
Her heart clenches with empathy and reverence when she hears Miranda huff and emit a small 'Oof' and Andy knows she's probably just sat down on the sofa in the den and taken off those godforsaken 5 inch heels which lead to her feet getting swollen up 10 times more than usual. Only her Miranda can manage being Editor-in-chief and continue chopping heads off of people and be this pregnant and manage them both, somehow.
'Pray tell me Andrea what pact have you made with this son of yours? He seems to be preparing for some marathon. He hasn't given me a minute's rest since you left! Oh, there he goes again.'
Andy knows Miranda loves this better than their son showing no activity at all, she remembers all the early mornings when Miranda wakes her up in a panic and puts her hands on her growing belly and murmurs 'He isn't moving' and then Andy just massages her palms over the smooth bump and miraculously feels the first kick of the day.
'Oh, I'm—I'm sorry.' Andy really does feel bad for her wife. Miranda needs her rest, more so now than ever and she is slightly miffed at their son for keeping 'Mom' awake 24 into 7.
'Is that all you can offer. None of that aw-shucks Ohio bred Andrea-ness 'I'm so sorry sweetie, let me have a conference with the apple of my eye and blow long distance raspberries and do those 100 odd things I do to keep him calm'.' Miranda mimicks
And Andy is in splits and she already knows half of Miranda's grumpiness is a show and secretly she's thrilled to have this conversation with Andy.
'Oh my God Miranda, you should do me more often, pun so intended darling.' And she's laughing again while visualizing Miranda smirking and stroking her bump.
'Yes yes, you don't do a lot of laughing when I do you though, now do you?'
'I like where this conversation is going darling. Tell me...what are you wearing' and Andy is already visualizing Miranda in her favourite Byzantium coloured pencil skirt and that cream chiffon V-neck blouse but there is that huge emerald pendant detracting from the swell of her full breasts and she has this tremendous urge to tear off her necklace, and fuck her until-
'Oh please Andrea, I am in no mood, not when I haven't slept in a week. Your punishment for conspiring with our son and keeping me awake.'
Of-fucking-course.
'I, I didn't plan this with him. How can you say that? Why do you have to punish me. What are you wearing?'
'A polythene bag. And how can I not say that. You might not have realized, but I have, he only stops playing up if you ask him to do so and moves around if you ask him to do it. Clearly he listens only to YOU. So, cut short your work thing and come help me sleep or God forbid Runway will soon lose three fourths of its employees.'
Hormones.
Andy almost feels sorry for her wife, so she sincerely says 'Miranda, you know I can't. It's just 2 more days sweetheart and then I'm gonna sit down and give him a good stern talk and set him straight. For now, maybe you could use all that baby talk you do with him to calm him down.' Andy smirks and Miranda emits a squeaking sound. Busted.
Andy had often times heard Miranda talk to the baby when she thought she was alone. She would tell him about the most mundane things-like who she fired, who had been incompetent, Caroline and Cassidy's grades, Andy's newest assignment, this new scarf she bought. Every time she saw Miranda talk to their child Andy's heart filled with such inexplicable joy and mirth that she thought her heart might explode and leap out of its cage.
'I—very well. It seems like you can't help me and your stubborn son won't as well, I'll have to wait for your mercy for two more days. May you not be able to sleep tonight. Bad-night.'
'Yep, I love you too. I'll be back before you know it.'
And then the line disconnects. And after everything she knows Miranda is not really truly angry. She couldn't be, not with Andy and not with this child. Never with their son. Not at all.
7th January 2008
6.07 p.m.
Drawing Room
Manhattan Townhouse
The front door closes and Andy jumps up from her place on the sofa and makes her way towards the foyer.
As soon as she sees the head of shocking white, turned towards the closet taking off her coat she feels something akin to relief flood her. And true happiness.
Miranda turns and Andy is amazed to see how much bigger she looks in only a week's time. Their eyes meet and Andy forgets how to breathe because Miranda's eyes suddenly start sparkling with mirth, her face lights like she's swallowed a light bulb and her mouth turns up in a smile. She looks radiant.
'You're home.' She says and rests a hand on her belly, 'high time already.'
Andy walks towards her hastily and kisses her chastely on her lips. She would, if she could have Miranda, then and there. Miranda has other plans though as she takes Andy's hands and places them on her belly.
Happiness floods her as she feels the first kick; she looks up at Miranda's face with an amused expression who in turn doesn't look amused at all.
'Calm him down.'
And then Andy works her magic and massages Miranda's naked belly under her blouse and murmurs gibberish.
Now Miranda looks amused, their son calms down. Of course.
'He might have calmed down, I've certainly have not.' She says against Miranda's ears and goes in to kiss her. Miranda blushes and turns her face.
But Andy needs that kiss, just one more, so she holds Miranda's chin to turn her face and gets what is hers.
Miranda makes those usual squeaky noises which makes Andy's legs turn into jelly beans and whispers 'Like mother, like son. Stubborn.' Then a pause 'Welcome home!'
Miranda sleeps that night, peacefully. Partially because their son listens to Mama but mostly because she has Andy by her side again.