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"Hi, my name is Andy Sachs."

"What are you doing here?"

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

"Details of you incompetence do not interest me."

"This...stuff?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Andrea, everybody wants this. Everybody wants to be us."

Andy Sachs woke up from her nightmare at exactly 12:05am. Looking out her window, she could tell that it had been pouring just seconds before her eyes opened, because fresh water droplets fell from the metal bars surrounding her balcony, and landed on the streets far below. It had been eight months since Paris, meaning that it had been eight months working at the New York Times, which meant no Miranda.

However, tonight, the silvery-white haired woman had decided to ruin the sleep of her ex-employee by barging in her usually good dreams. Andy often dreamt of singing in an endless meadow, or winning an Emmy Award for being best actress in a movie. But today, her dream had started out as a nice Starbucks date with a handsome gentleman. His hair was brown, his eyes were blue. It was perfect...that is until Miranda came barging into Starbucks pointing a finger in Andy's direction screaming about how late her coffee was. Andy had stood up to explain that she no longer worked for Miranda, but it had turned out that she had been talking to the gentleman Andy was having coffee with. He was Miranda's new second assistant. What a small world.

Her dream then went to a thousand heads of Miranda spitting out insults and rude lectures. Then she had woken up.

To be honest, if Andy could go back eight months in time, she wouldn't have walked away from Miranda like that. Andy could clearly see Miranda now, after lots and lots of time thinking about it. When Miranda had told Andy "I see a great deal of myself in you.", she hadn't meant that Andy was like her. She meant that she was like Andy. Miranda had always closed that part off.

It was during all this time, Andy figured out Miranda. She knew that Miranda knew people viewed her as a cut-throat bitch, why wouldn't that bother Miranda? She never showed it, but it was that day walking into the hotel room and seeing her boss like that and most importantly; the day she took the James Holt job she had firstly given to Nigel, and took that away from him by giving it to Jacqueline. All so she could protect her job at Runway. It was then that Andy could actually see that Miranda fully comprehends that what she has done to Nigel. That moment when all the attention turned from Miranda to Jacqueline, that immediate moment; her fake smiled faded. Miranda knew exactly what people thought of her.

All this thinking of Miranda at 12 in the morning made Andy realize that she did miss her old boss. She wanted to see Miranda, sit down and have lunch with Miranda. But obviously, Miranda hated her and that was enough to keep Andy away.

During her time at Runway, Andy had developed feelings for Miranda. She wouldn't call them feelings but there had definitely been a change. It was probably because Andy had discovered the truth about Miranda, and that made her care for her more. Andy would do anything for Miranda, because truth is, Andy had been her only friend.

Two days later, on a Wednesday afternoon, Andy found herself walking towards Miranda's townhouse. She had been given a day off from the paper and decided to pay a visit to the place she'd enter oh-so late at night to give Miranda the book and put away the dry cleaning. Of course, Miranda wouldn't be at home at 1pm on a Wednesday, she'd be at Runway or out having lunch with some famous designer.

Andy rounded the corner and saw the townhouse, sitting tall on the right side of the street. She approached the steps and took a deep breath. This would be the first time walking up these steps without the Runway book or dry cleaning in hand. She reached the top of the stairs, touched the door handle and sat down on the top stair and looked out at the street.

Today was a sunny, warm day and New York traffic was busy as always, But by Miranda's townhouse, it was quiet. Th roads here were never busy, mostly because it was a private road, but all the same; it was nice.

About ten minutes had passed and that's when a silver car with tinted windows pulled up in front of the house. Andy stared at the car, her heart thumping against her rib cage. This was about to be the most awkward situation of her life.

Miranda Priestly stepped out of the car, her usual brown sunglasses over her eyes. Andy knew she was staring at her through those shades. The woman walked forward, reached the bottom of the step and just stared up at Andy.

"Um, hi Miranda," Andy began "I'm sorry for blocking your stairs, they really are nice stairs- um-" Andy stopped her babbling immediately, for she knew Miranda was losing her patience. "I really missed coming here and wanted to pay a visit."

Miranda came to the top of the stairs and opened the front door.

"Are you going to come in or continue sitting on my stairs like a bum?" Miranda asked Andy and motioned her inside.

"I- oh- okay." Andy stood up, wiped her feet and entered the townhouse. Miranda had removed her sunglasses and was staring at Andy. The woman's face showed her emotion, no thrill nor dislike that Andy was in her house; but her eyes glistened with happiness.

"What brings you here?" Miranda asked, leading them to her kitchen. Andy took a seat at one of the bar stools as Miranda grabbed two cups from the cupboard and filled them with ice water.

"I had a day off today." Andy began "And decided to come visit the townhouse because I missed it a lot. It's just so beautiful."

"So you miss my house but not me." Miranda said. "Fabulous."

"No, I've missed you too I guess." Andy said, wanting to slap her forehead. This was very awkward carrying a conversation with Miranda. "I thought about you a couple days ago actually."

Miranda, who stood on the other side of the counter, had begun reading the paper and sipping on her water.

"Um, my job at the New York Times is going well. I've been writing about-"

"I know." Miranda said, keeping her eyes on the paper. "I read your stuff."

"Oh." Andy blushed, then smirked. "My stuff?"

Miranda's eyes peeled from the paper and looked at Andy through her glasses, a hint of laughter showing through her blue eyes.

"Ahn-dre-ah, it really is a pleasure to see you. But I honestly only came home to pick up something before heading back to Runway. Roy is outside waiting."

"Oh, yes, of course. I'll um-"

"But I would like to see you again soon. How about lunch on Friday?"

Andy gave her ex-boss a weak smile "My schedule isn't flexible like yours, Miranda. I work."

Miranda gave a humming sound of disapproval. "Dinner?"

"I usually eat canned soup..." Andy smiled.

Miranda stared at her blankly, before realizing the humor. "Dinner on Friday it is then."

The two women walked out together and Miranda got in her silver car once again. Andy waved, unsure if Miranda waved her even smiled, but why did it matter? Today had been far better than she had expected it to and Miranda hadn't been a total bitch. Though she didn't admit it, Andy knew that Miranda had missed her far too much for her own good.