A/N: Hi! Welcome to Alternate Endings joint fic by and Raquelminas. This is a post season fic. Its also a semi crossover with the Devil Wears Prada. Also after episode 3.05 the relationship changed, so they really didn't hate each other, but they didn't get together either, they were just really good friends. This is like chapter 1/ prologue. We don't own the characters ABC did, and we don't own the movie characters either. We only own our imaginations, our laptops, and the characters you may have never heard of. Rating is subject to change, depends on how we feel. Right Jaz. Right Rae. So without further ado. Here is our first joint fic that we hope you all like (aka feel free to leave a review) here it is…. ALTERNATE ENDINGS.
Chapter 1
White. It was all she saw as she looked down at the spreads in front on her. The white Dior paired with the wrapped lace Valentino stiletto. White crocodile Louis Vuitton bags, White Michael Kors furs, white Dolce and Gabbana suits. White. White like Daniel Meade. She bit back a laugh dragging her fingers around the edges of the proofs. The pictures were spotless, the makeup on the models, perfect and natural. She smiled to herself, he had done a good job.
About a month previous the whole MODE company had begun drastically preparing to make what was supposed to be there biggest issue ever. The 100th anniversary issue. The spreads had to be flawless, the models picture-perfect, the advertisers had to be on board. Everything had to be impeccable. Now looking at the spreads she smiled to herself. His segment of the black and white section was better than she had imagined. She began to pick up her phone just as her door opened.
Marc.
"The finished photos are through and the employees are having a field day. What should I do? Yell at them, threaten to have them all killed?"
She took in a breath not shifting her gaze from the photos, "No."
"Willie, no one's working!" He answered sticking his curly haired head further in the office. "They think it's time to party cause the issues almost finished. There's no chaos!" He walked further into the office as she still didn't respond. "What's gotten into you? Are you smiling?"
He followed her down casted gaze, spotting the spreads below, his jaw dropping.
"Are those Daniel's?"
"No Marc," She said, latching the folder in which they came in before he could grab them.
"Willie yes they are. There all white and we both know you did the all black section of the black and white shoot…" He said not moving backwards, "What are you doing with those?"
"It's none of your business Marc." She tried to fix him with one of her signature ice glares but he saw straight through it.
"That's the second time this week you've smiled?" He said a grin appearing on his face, "Is there something on your mind?"
Her eyes flickered staring through the glass as a figure approached her office.
"No Marc, now get out." She commanded, putting more strength in her voice then she felt. He immediately began to back up towards the door, that goofy grin still on his face.
"And tell those employees that they shall find a massive cut in their pay check and or kiss their jobs good bye if they don't cut it out!"
Marc smiled turning, bumping into the figure walking through the door as he did so.
The two men shared an awkward moment before Marc cleared his throat his smile growing bigger as he continued walking through the door to his desk. The other man continued in.
She felt her smile grow bigger as Daniel let out a shaky breath.
"Uh so I assume you've seen the photos?"
Wiping the grin off her face, she nodded.
At her non-emotion he stepped into the office, shutting the door behind him.
"And?"
Wilhelmina slowly stood up, smoothing her light orange dress, before walking around the desk with the folder.
"There not bad," She said holding the folder out for him to grab. "There honestly better than I had expected you to produce. On your own no less."
She watched as the look of unease washed off his face as a smile began to form. He reminded her of a child on Christmas seeing Santa's gifts under the tree. Of course before they realized that Santa Clause wasn't real.
He grabbed the folder, still smiling. It took all the strength in her being not to let herself smile at his reaction.
"And what about mine?" She asked, folding her arms in front of her.
He pulled out a folder. "There not bad," he said, mimicking her tone, "But they could use some touching up."
"What!" she asked, shocked at his cockiness.
She glared at him trying to understand what gave him the right to criticize her photos.
He didn't look up avoiding her gaze.
"Daniel look at me," She said annoyed.
He didn't, still keeping his head hung over the photos.
"Look at me."
Just then he moved his head slightly and she saw the smirk on his face.
"You jerk," She said punching him in the shoulder of his grey sharp cut suit as he began to laugh.
"You should have seen your face," He said imitating her reaction while laughing.
"Well I hardly think that's funny."
"No?" He said looking at her. "Well I think it's hilarious." He set down the folders on her chaise moving across the room. "A toast."
"A toast? A toast to what?" She asked. She watched as her cabinet opened and he returned with an unopened bottle, beginning to twist the top of. She began to walk over to the credenza.
It opened with a loud pop sending little bits of foam over the top.
"To us," he said beginning to pour the drinks, handing her one.
"Us?" she asked.
"And the pre-success of the 100th anniversary issue."
"Ah," she said under her breath, tilting her head, raising her glass as he did. She tipped it back taking a drink.
"Andres Hernandez called and said the shoot for the current Editors- in-Chief is ready!"
She sighed, whipping her head around towards the spot at her doorway where Marc had just entered.
"We had better get over there," She said placing her half-empty drink back down on the table.
"Right," Daniel said, nodding.
She looked up spotting his eyes, sharing the briefest of moments before brushing past him towards the door.
She sat in the dark of her office. It was late as she opened her computer screen. The photo shoot had taken longer than expected. Daniel had agreed to let her pick the photo dedicated to the 'Daniel Meade and Wilhelmina Slater era'. She clicked the power button on her laptop turning it on.
The photos from the shoot appeared. Each one of them with a grey background. She scrolled through the options finding the one she liked. She clicked on it. It was a photo of her and Daniel, arms crossed, standing back to back. She was about to send it off to print as her computer froze.
A new screen popped up. It was all words, a mass email titled: 'OMG!'
Bettys taking that job in LONDON!
She blinked not understanding. What job? London? What Betty are they talking about? They were surely not talking about Betty Suarez, she thought to herself. She checked who the sender was. Marc.
"Marc!" She yelled.
Immediately she heard the familiar sound of scuttling footsteps from outside her office. She looked up but the person standing at her door wasn't Marc.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
"Um Marc already went home," The blonde girl answered, "I was just… cleaning his desk for him."
That was the second time in less than two months that she had to hear Marc had gone home earlier and that Amanda had come back to work for him.
"Well you can go," Wilhelmina said watching the blonde girl turn. "No, wait." The girl turned back a worried look on her face. "Do you have any idea what this means," she said gesturing at the screen.
The girl ran around the office, her heels clicking on the floor lightly with each step she took making the layered long gold and pearl necklaces she wore bounce.
"Ah, Betty was offered a job in London as an editor and she's taking it," She said.
"What? Betty, an editor?"
"Well yeah," she said, "I mean she's already a fashion editor here."
Wilhelmina nodded still surprised by the news.
"Well thank you…" She looked at the girl for a minute not remembering her name, "You can go."
She watched as the girl scampered off out of the room.
She exited the screen, not allowing herself to think about it now. The picture of her and Daniel popped up again. She looked at it for a moment liking what she saw. Them, working together, no scheming just complete honesty and respect. Well respect on his behalf towards her but she had to admit she was learning how to respect him more.
Instantly a flashback of a moment they had spent in the Starbucks down the street came to her memory. She had been in to order her daily coffee, a task she normally had Marc do. However, that day she had been early, and in a somewhat jubilant mood, so she had decided to get her own. After sitting down to enjoy it before calling her town car to transport her the next two blocks to Meade she watched as a hurried Daniel Mead ran into the small coffee shop. Racing by he nearly knocked into her.
"Sorry! I'm so sorry," He had yelled while continuing to race by.
She had sat there completely aware that he hadn't even glanced at her while passing. Something had gotten into him and she couldn't help but wonder what. She watched as he rapidly gave the man behind the counter a long order, tapping his foot while the man began to prepare the drinks. After about a minute Daniel began to pace back and forth, nearly reaching her table. The next time he did she stuck her foot out in front of him. He nearly walked right over it before realizing the move and looking up.
"Wilhelmina?"
"Why the rush?" She had asked, taking in his disheveled appearance and contorted face.
He seemed to be fighting an inner battle of whether or not he should tell her the reason behind why he was so distraught. Deciding to he spoke up, "The Givenchy people are coming this morning and there is no coffee sitting and waiting for them."
She shifted in her seat, "Is that the only reason you're down here?"
Under her gaze he looked down, "And the file with our plans for the meeting have gone missing."
"Ah," She had replied, taking a sip of her still piping hot coffee. "So you made up an excuse to leave while Betty's searching for them."
He shuffled his feet, "Wait. That meeting was supposed to start," he checked the clock on the wall, "Six minutes ago. Why are you here?"
She finished her sip, setting her coffee down before looking up at him.
"Because I took the meeting yesterday."
The concern on his face instantly turned from worry to confusion.
"What? Why the hell would you do that? Wilhelmina I thought you said we were in this together." His voice began to rise.
"We are stupid. I took that meeting because I knew you had a busy day tomorrow with the Ghesquiere reps and I knew you would need today to plan or else you'll be all shaky and nervous and we both know that the French see that as a sign of weakness."
She could tell he had tried to hold back a smile when he cleared his throat before thanking her.
They had spent that whole r`est of the morning together preparing for the meeting. The next day he had asked her out to lunch after they had landed the deal and they had been planning lunch meetings daily since then.
Snapping out of it, she clicked the send button on the screen, sending the photo to print. Clicking out of everything she began to shut it down to leave for the night as her cell phone rang. She answered.
"Hey it's me Daniel."
"Daniel it's 10:30. What do you want?" She answered not letting the smile that began to form on her face translate through her voice. She liked knowing that they were working together as respective partners. For however long it lasted that was.
"We need to talk."
When she arrived home she poured herself a large glass of wine, and downed it. Cursing under her breathe the day Daniel Meade was born. Why did she let him of all people get to her? She shouldn't care, she doesn't care, and that's what she keeps telling herself. Yet the conversation that happened only twenty minutes before stated otherwise.
"We need to talk."
"Sure. What is it?"
"I thought I should let you know first, that I, well, I think I need a change."
"Oh god, please tell me you aren't following in your brothers footsteps and want to be a woman cause that's too much for me to bear."
He chuckled. "No, no, no. Not that kind of change."
"Well then, what is it?"
There was a silence on the phone before he answered, "I'm going to London."
"What?"
"I know it's sudden and unexpected, but I need a change. I need a fresh start."
"Now? Daniel we have an 100th anniversary issue to put out in just 3 days and you're telling me now that you're going off to London for some self-revelation bullshit?"
"I knew you wouldn't understand. And, quite frankly, I thought you would be happy. It means you're sole editor. It's what you wanted."
"Of course it is you fool, but not right now. God Daniel I didn't think you were that stupid."She said, her voice growing louder.
"Hey I'm a grown man who can make decisions on his own. You're not my mother, you're not my girlfriend, you are a co-worker who I've spent a great deal of my life hating. At least I gave you fair warning."
"Oh yes, all hail the great Daniel for granting me this one thing," She huffed, making mocking gestures over the phone, quickly regaining from the momentary shock of hearing him say the word 'girlfriend' in a sentence referring to her. "This is the most selfish thing you can do."
"I learnt from the best. And I'm doing it." He said. "Bye Wilhelmina."
And with that there was a clicking sound. She stared at the phone before slamming it down on the hook.
She replayed the conversation over and over in her head. She didn't understand why she was so upset, she damn sure shouldn't be. This is what she wanted; she finally had MODE all to herself. Then why was she still unsatisfied?
Daniel tried to sleep on it; he hadn't been expecting that reaction. He was expecting cries of joy, the calling of movers to remove his things, firing people, anything but a 'why'? He lay awake in bed, letting the events of the day wash over him. When he found out Betty took a job in London he was hurt, she was the one person he could always count on, she was his best friend. He tried to ignore her but couldn't. He thought on it and when she explained her reasoning he had some sort of epiphany, 'if Betty was able to start over, take life into her own hands, why couldn't he?' Because she doesn't have a magazine to run, his conscious kept telling him. Ultimately it was his decision and it's what he wanted to do, people would just have to deal. And by people, he meant Wilhelmina Slater.
The next day Daniel had made the news public, sending out a press release to all media outlets. She was pacing in her office watching Suzki on the t.v. go on and on about Daniel's decision before picking up the remote and throwing it on the white chaise in frustration.
"That fucking asshole!" She vented to herself, she looked up to see Marc on the threshold of her office.
"Sorry, did I get the wrong flowers?" He said, a large bouquet of vibrant assorted flowers in his hands.
"Flowers? Why would I want flowers?"
"Congratulation flowers silly!" He said, throwing his hands in the air, "You're Editor-in-Chief of MODE. All on your own this time, no pasty face in your way."
Disregarding his excitement she went to sit behind her desk, holding her head in her hands.
"This is payback."
"I'm confused," He said, bring his hands down from where he had lifted them, "You're supposed to jump for joy, fire people, redecorate… You're not doing that."
"Of course I'm not Marc. As happy as I would love to be, I don't appreciate someone bailing out on me. This issue is the most important of all, and he," She gestured at the muted television," gets up and leaves it all to me. Typical of him, just when I think maybe we can get along for the sake of MODE, maybe this partnership could work, he pulls some shit like this."
Typical Daniel Meade, bailing out when it gets too hard leaving me to clean up the mess," She muttered mostly to herself.
Marc stood in the center of the room, not sure what to do, say, or honestly think.
"Do you still want the flowers?" He put on a confused smile.
"Get out." She deadpanned.
"First call for Continental Airlines flight number 563 from New York City to London. Boarding all first class and business seats now."
Daniel looked at his ticket and got up. He looked around the JFK airport, watching people scurrying about to get to their destinations, children running to find parents, and sighed. He was really leaving, giving it all up. As much as he hated to admit it, he was pretty damn scared.
He made his way to the gate and handed his ticket over before looking back one last time, leaving all that he knew behind, for the chance to start over.