Thank you so much for all the feedback; it's all been so lovely and sweet... you're all very amazing!


2.

One thing that Andy hadn't banked on was Miranda catching her, or carrying her up the stairs and depositing her down onto a bed. Apparently Miranda really was capable of anything; even carrying her smart fat assistant whilst wearing five inch heels. Huh. Who would have thought it?

"You need to tell me what's happened, Andrea," Miranda said with a sense of urgency that was unlike anything Andy had ever heard from her before. "I need to know if you've sustained a head injury, or any other injuries that are going to require urgent medical attention."

"N... no," Andy stammered, already feeling better now that she was lying down. The warmth of the townhouse had finally begun to have an effect on her and she was no longer shivering from the cold. Her body still shook, but Andy was sure that was from fear more than anything else. "I just... I just felt dizzy for a moment. But I haven't hurt my head or anything else."

"It's just your face that has been injured?" Miranda enquired, double checking Andy's declaration. "And your knees?"

Andy wondered how Miranda knew her knees were hurt before she remembered that she was wearing a short Chanel Skirt, and her knees were clearly visible. "Yes," she pronounced, and then upon feeling a shooting pain in her torso she remembered that further damage had been done. "My ribs too."

Miranda nodded as she sat facing Andy on the bed. "I shall call my doctor and whilst we wait for her to arrive, you can tell me what has happened. There's no point calling an ambulance; it'll take forever to get here and I'd much rather seek the opinion of a professional that I trust to do the best for you in the first instance. If there's no urgency as you have said then my doctor is perfectly capable of assessing your needs."

Knowing there was no point in arguing with the Editor as what Miranda wanted; Miranda got, Andy returned the nod. She barely listened as Miranda whipped out her BlackBerry and spoke to whom Andy assumed was her doctor. All she could focus on was the fact that Miranda was sitting so closely to her, looking concerned and worried. For her.

Staring up at the silver haired woman, Andy felt a rush of gratitude for what Miranda had done. Even if she banished Andy from Runway and blacklisted her from publishing because she had bore witness to Miranda's affectionate side, this was worth it all. Just to have the silver haired woman care at this very moment in time because something horrible had happened to her, Andy; a mere, pathetic assistant. She still didn't quite understand Miranda's motives for treating her in this manner as it just didn't make any sense, but she would have enough time to debate what was going on in Miranda's head later on when she didn't feel so damn awful.

"We have half an hour before Dr. Stone arrives," Miranda informed Andy as she ended the phone call. "She said that it's imperative that you stay alert and conscious; no going to sleep until she's made certain that you don't have a concussion."

"I didn't hit my head though," Andy reminded her.

"Do you know that for definite?" Miranda asked, the closest to a snappy tone she'd used since she discovered that there was something very wrong with her second assistant. "I am not prepared to take that risk, Andrea." She cleared her throat. "I'm just going to get you a glass of water. Wait here." She said it as though Andy had the intention to jump up and sprint off, far far away from the townhouse.

Feeling small, but also kind of awed at the fact that Miranda seemingly cared enough about her not to want to take the teensiest of risks, Andy shut up and watched Miranda leave to get her drink. There was no way that she wanted to piss Miranda off, not when she was being so human. It was something that she never thought she would see, but now that she had been granted the privilege of bearing witness to an entirely different side to Miranda, Andy was not prepared to do anything to speed up her inevitable morphing back into the boss from hell.

In what seemed like no time at all Miranda returned, holding a glass of water and some antiseptic wipes. Andy watched, fascinated, as the silver haired woman placed down the glass and ripped open two of the antiseptic wipes.

"I'm just going to wipe the blood off your face," Miranda stated in such a tone that made it clear the subject was not up for debate. "Your facial wound doesn't look deep enough to need stitches, thankfully. Obviously Dr. Stone will have to check, but I'm certain that I'm right."

Andy didn't really focus on what Miranda was saying; she was more surprised that the Editor hadn't passed the wipes over for her to clean her own face. Nevertheless, she accepted Miranda's decision and stayed perfectly still as she cleaned Andy's face for her. She avoided eye contact, keeping her eyes tightly shut for fear of Miranda seeing the desire within them reflecting back at her. It was rather unfortunate that despite being in a large amount of pain Andy still experienced waves of lust for Miranda as she didn't so much as wipe but made more of a stroking motion back and forth. Andy desperately held in a whimper, not wanting to inadvertently reveal her attraction to the older woman.

"I'll just clean your knees and that'll be it," Miranda murmured, and Andy thanked her lucky stars that she had yet to notice the effect she was having on Andy. Trying to stay perfectly still, Andy watched as Miranda moved onto her lower body, her eyes travelling downwards.

By this point Andy was biting her lip, half through pain and half through an intense hunger to throw herself into Miranda's arms. "Ok," she said in a strangled voice, trying to look anywhere but at Miranda.

Fortunately, Miranda was too focused on cleaning Andy's wounds. "There," she said when she had finished, and Andy immediately felt relief at not having to fight to hold back a moan any longer. She breathed a sigh of relief, watching as Miranda discarded the wipes into the bin just across the room and then handed the glass of water to her. "You should take a few sips at least."

Doing as she was told and obeying Miranda's orders; Andy sipped dutifully. She did so with care as her hands shook, something which she found she couldn't control. It wasn't as though she was cold; it was perfectly warm in the bedroom (Master Bedroom? Guest Bedroom? Andy couldn't even begin to think about the answer to that in detail) and so it must be some sort of mild shock that she was in. Evidently Miranda had also noticed this as she watched Andy's hand, worried that Andy was going to spill the entire glass all over her million and something thread count, most probably.

"You are shaking," she stated slowly.

"Don't worry; I won't spill it," Andy promised, deciding that the best thing she could do would be to place the glass down on the bedside table to the left of her. It reminded her of one frantic afternoon just two weeks ago at Runway when Miranda had made an unannounced arrival at the office an hour earlier than expected from a trip to Milan. She and Emily had zoomed around like chipmunks on crack trying to make sure that everything was in order and nothing was out of place. They succeeded in tidying things away, setting out all requested publications on her desk and making sure that Miranda had her Starbucks waiting, but it was just as Miranda waltzed through her office door that Andy was pouring her chilled San Pellegrino water into a glass. Panicking at the sight of the Editor, Andy slipped and sent the glass flying off the desk and the water all over all the newspapers laid out ready for Miranda on the desk. Frantically, she'd attempted to do some serious damage control, apologising over and over again as she did so.

She was sure she was going to be booted out of the Elias-Clark building permanently, but instead Miranda had instructed Emily to get her new copies of everything ruined by the spilt water and had waited silently for Andy to finish cleaning up. Once she had done so, she had made eye contact with Miranda, only to have the older woman roll her eyes at her. She assumed that Miranda would want her to leave and so she began to, still keeping her eyes trained on Miranda. As she got closer, she saw what she could only describe as a hint of amusement in the older woman's eyes, but by the time she blinked it was gone. At the time she'd thought it strange and that she'd probably just been seeing things, but judging by the expression Miranda was currently wearing; she had been right. She assumed, anyway.

Whether she had been right or not it had been yet another example of Miranda's version of kindness towards her. Andy was sure that had it been Emily who had been so clumsy Miranda would not have been so tolerant. She didn't have an inkling of why this was, she merely chose to accept it because everyone knew that Miranda did as Miranda pleased. If she was nicer to Andy than she was to anyone else; who was Andy to question it?

"I wouldn't put it past you," Miranda quipped, with reference to the previous incident, making it clear she had been thinking along the same lines as Andy. Weird.

Andy stared. "Did you just make a joke, Miranda?"

Miranda gave her infamous eye-roll once more, just as she had the last time. "Contrary to popular belief, I am capable of saying humorous things."

Andy smiled. Miranda said humorous things on a regular basis, it was just that usually it was at someone else's expense, her words taking on a cruel form. But that... that had been almost as though she was making a joke to share with Andy rather than ridiculing her. As if that wasn't strange enough on its' own, Andy was starting to feel more relaxed just by being in Miranda's presence. It was surprising really considering that at first being around the Editor put her on edge, but she no longer felt the same fear that Miranda used to instigate in her. Andy's hands hadn't stopped trembling, but that wasn't something Miranda was responsible for or that Andy could control right now.

"However, spilt water is not my concern right now. I merely wish to know..." Miranda paused. "Why are you frightened?"

"I'm not frightened," Andy said quickly. The last thing she wanted was for Miranda to think she was a weak, silly little girl. She had already made enough of a fool of herself this evening; she didn't need to make this situation any worse. If she did then Miranda might rethink her position at Runway, and get rid of Andy as her assistant. Andy didn't think she would survive if that happened.

Raising an eyebrow, Miranda gave her an expression that plainly stated that nothing Andy said would make her believable. Andy was sure that if she yelled the words at the top of her voice with a grin on her face Miranda still wouldn't choose to take her words at face value, and would request some sort of proof.

Andy tried anyway. "Really, I'm fine."

"Don't lie," Miranda chastised, but in a gentle tone that was clearly not meant to distress Andy. "You are safe here and there is no need for you to feel alarm or panic. Now, please. Will you tell me what has happened?"

"Why do you care?" Andy replied with a question of her own. She didn't care that there was no one in the world allowed to ask Miranda questions; she needed to know. Even if Miranda refused to give her an answer, at least she had given it a go and attempted to figure out what the hell was going on in this alternate Miranda universe.

Surprisingly, Miranda gave her an answer. "I am... worried."

"Worried?" Andy repeated. "Why?"

Miranda sighed. She looked as though she really didn't want to be having this conversation and was trying ever so hard not to say something cutting to Andy. Though why she was even attempting to be nice in the first place, let alone why she was putting so much effort into it was Andy's main concern.

Eventually, Miranda replied slowly, "Because I care for you, Andrea."

Andy's jaw dropped, and she was pretty sure that she was doing an impression of a gormless idiot right now. "You do?"

"Yes," Miranda said impatiently.

"Oh."

Well, what was there to say to that? Thank you? I care about you too? Kiss me? Andy was pretty certain that Miranda would roll her eyes at the first phrase, look disturbed at the second, and possibly slap her if she said the third.

In spite of the fact that Miranda was right, Andy didn't want to admit that yes, she was scared. There was a wave of terror roaring quietly inside, and Andy knew that the moment she acknowledged it this would become unbearable and she would have a full-on panic attack or breakdown entirely. It wasn't that she couldn't handle what had happened, it was more that the madman was still out there, still roaming the streets. He might be looking for her, or he may have moved onto someone else, or... no. No, he couldn't be, could he? What if he was right outside the townhouse at exactly this moment? Miranda. Or inside, and the girls... Oh God. No.

"Where are the twins?" Andy asked, beginning to panic. "Are they sleeping?"

"They are at their father's for the weekend," Miranda informed her, frowning. It was obvious that she didn't see where this line of enquiry was going, but apparently she had chosen to indulge Andy. "Why? What's wrong?"

Although relief flooded Andy's veins at hearing the twins were safe, there was still a threat to Miranda. If he was inside the house then it was likely to still be Andy who would be the target, not Miranda. There was nothing for it, Andy would simply have to leave so he'd follow her, if only to keep Miranda safe. She had taken such a stupid risk by coming here; she should have called Roy to pick up the Book and deliver it and then coaxed the madman to follow her by walking the streets alone.

"Miranda, I have to go," she said urgently. Andy swung her legs over the side of the bed, ignoring the pain in her legs. "I'm putting you in danger; I can't be here."

"What on earth are you talking about?" Miranda asked, placing her arm forward as a barrier to prevent Andy from getting up. "Explain yourself."

"There's no time!" Andy was verging on hysterical now. She couldn't let him hurt Miranda. If anything ever happened to her then Andy didn't think she would be able to forgive herself. How was she supposed to live knowing that she was responsible for putting Miranda into the madman's hands? "I have to go, I have to!"

"Go where?" Miranda pressed on with her questioning, evidently confused by Andy's behaviour. "Andrea, you're not making any sense. Please; just stop for a moment."

"He's going to hurt you, Miranda, and I can't let that happen," Andy insisted. She didn't have time to explain everything to Miranda, and she could only pray that the Editor would go along with what she said and trust her.

"There's no one here," Miranda said firmly, ignoring Andy's protests. "You're in shock and you need to calm down."

"No," Andy shook her head vehemently. She sobbed, the tears starting to fall once again. "You don't understand... I just don't want you in danger." Why wouldn't Miranda listen? She was doing this for her own good, to protect her. All in all she was making sure that she fulfilled her duties as a good assistant; what was so wrong with that?

"Help me to understand," Miranda requested, placing a hand on Andy's leg, and gently pulling her back into a half-seated, half-laying position on the bed. "Breathe slowly, calm down, and talk to me."

Realising that she had no choice and the only way she was going to get Miranda to pay attention to her would be to explain what had happened, Andy spoke quickly. "I got the subway because Roy was busy and I was already late... and a man followed me. He tried to... well I don't really know what he was going to do, but he hurt me. I got away but I didn't want him to see me come here, so I ran fast and waited in the street to see if he'd get me... but he didn't. And I knew you had to have the Book so I delivered it, but then I got blood on it, and I couldn't leave quickly in case he had seen me come in and then got in after me," she rambled. "So you see why I have to go. I can't put you in danger," she repeated, her words disjointed as she struggled to make sense.

Miranda visibly paled, and for a moment, Andy thought she was going to cry. She had never looked so... so un-Miranda-like before. "I'm sorry," Andy told her, hiccupping through her tears. "So... so sorry."

Breathing out slowly, Miranda looked as though she was trying to compose herself. There seemed to be an array of different emotions passing over her face, but for the life of her Andy couldn't put her finger on what any one of them was for they were far too brief. She didn't know what Miranda was thinking at the best of times, and here, now, in this situation there wasn't a chance in hell that she would suddenly understand the older woman and the way that her mind worked. Trembling, Andy bowed her head and waited, preparing herself for the tirade of abuse that was sure to spill from Miranda's lips at the damage she had caused the Book.

"Don't you dare," Miranda began, her lips quivering. "Don't you apologise for something that in no way, shape, or form is your fault." She let out a breath. "And for the record, I don't care about the damn Book, Andrea. Not when you're here in front of me like... like this."

Andy sobbed harder, not even bothering to attempt not to cry anymore. Miranda wasn't angry at her? Why, when she was so angry at herself? If she had been paying more attention to her surroundings then maybe she would have seen the danger before it encircled her, trapping her like a caged animal. She had behaved pathetically, and even now she felt weak, gutless and plain fucking terrified, still crying and hating herself just a little more every time she felt another tear roll down one of her cheeks.

"I don't want the madman to come back," Andy whispered fearfully, clutching her head in her hands.

"The madman?" Miranda repeated Andy's words. "What...?"

"That's what he is," Andy interjected, wiping away her tears. "A madman." She finally looked up at Miranda.

The emotion in Miranda's eyes could only be described at compassion. "We are safe here, Andrea. The only way that... that animal could possibly have gotten in would be the front door. The alarms would have tripped had he broken a window, and as I recall you double locked the front door. So you see, there is nothing to worry about for now," Miranda explained, still resting her hand on Andy's leg. Andy wasn't sure whether she was more shocked at Miranda's sudden willingness to explain or her casual touch upon Andy.

"If it makes you feel better, I will alarm the entire house," Miranda continued. She let go of Andy and walked over to a small discreet panel on the wall next to the inside of the closed bedroom door that Andy had not noticed previously. Pressing a few buttons, there was a beep of recognition and then silence. "Now, not only are all entrances and windows alarmed, but the inside of the house too. Were there someone moving around in the upstairs or downstairs hallway, the alarm would sound and the police would attend. As you can see, or rather, hear, there is silence. So we are safe. Ok?" She walked back towards Andy and taking a seat next to her, Miranda took one step further and held Andy's hands, placing them in her own lap.

Andy nodded her understanding, at once beginning to feel calmer. He wasn't here. She would know if he was, and it was ok. She had gotten away, escaped. There was nothing for her to panic about because things were going to be alright now. Miranda was here, and she was taking care of her, and she was the one who was going to protect Andy. She had said so, after all. And everyone knew that Miranda's word was good enough to satisfy anyone.

As Miranda gazed at her with what looked like compassion in her bright, blazing blue eyes, Andy whispered, "Thank you."

Miranda waved off her gratitude, looking embarrassed by Andy's appreciation. It was almost as though the older woman wasn't used to people saying it to her in such a kind, genuine way, Andy considered, but she wasn't going to take back her thanks or apologise now; she meant what she'd said.

Stirring Andy from her thoughts, Miranda said slowly, "I need to ask you something."

Andy nodded, watching Miranda, waiting.

"Did he... did he..." Miranda paused, seemingly struggling to find the words she wanted to say. "Hurt you in any other way?" She finished.

"What do you mean?" Andy asked, unsure of what Miranda was insinuating.

Miranda stared at her, and then appearing to bite the bullet to just ask what she wanted, she said, "Did he violate you?"

Oh right, Andy thought. She wants to know if he raped me. "No," she answered quickly.

Looking relieved, Miranda exhaled. "So he didn't touch you inappropriately?"

Andy looked down into her lap, unable to meet Miranda's eyes as she spoke her next sentence. "He put his hand inside my shirt and grabbed my chest," she paused, composing herself before she humiliated herself by vomiting on Miranda.

A flash of anger passed through Miranda's eyes but she stayed silent, allowing Andy the time she needed before she was able to continue.

When she felt like she could speak without becoming hysterical, Andy said shakily, "He implied he was going to take it further, but he didn't get a chance to because I got away." She didn't add that she should have tried harder to get away before he got near her; it was redundant. There was nothing she could do but accept that she'd made a giant mistake and move on from it.

"It wasn't your fault," Miranda stated resolutely as though reading her thoughts. "You didn't ask for this to happen." She looked at Andy with kindness in her eyes. For a fleeting moment Andy debated kissing the older woman, but then she realised how stupid that sounded, even in her own head. Kissing Miranda was a ticket to getting herself kicked out onto the street.

Instead, Andy said what she was thinking now that Miranda had touched upon the subject of blame, and insisted, "I should have fought harder. I was an idiot."

"The only idiotic thing you did was to wait out in the street to see if he was going to come for you," Miranda admonished, her face having adopted a stern expression once more. "You should have run straight here."

"I didn't want him to hurt you or the twins," Andy croaked out, more soothed than she had been a few minutes ago not only thanks to Miranda's alarm system brainwave, but because the silver haired woman was now stroking the palms of Andy's hands with her thumbs, over and over again.

"I would not have let him," Miranda spat suddenly, viciously in her reply. She stopped moving her thumbs and grasped Andy's hands tightly. "The moment I set eyes on him I assure you that I would have killed him with my bare hands for what he has done to you."

"It bothers you that much?" Andy said, amazed. "I didn't think it would be that much of an issue for you."

Miranda shook her head fervently. "You are wrong, Andrea. I abhor violence and anyone who receives the treatment you have tonight deserves to know what it feels like when the tables are turned. In that situation I believe it's justifiable to fight back."

An explanation? Miranda was offering an explanation? Andy felt like she'd entered some kind of other world. In fact, if it wasn't for the fact that her body hurt so much then Andy would be sure that this wasn't real and that it was just a vivid and hellish nightmare.

"You will never take the subway again," Miranda announced, her voice so deadly seriously that it jerked Andy out of her thoughts once more. "Ever."

"I have to," Andy protested. "I can't afford to get taxi's everywhere no matter how much I wish I could." Although she appreciated Miranda's concern, the Editor simply wasn't living in the real world. Andy had very little disposable income as it was, and constant taxi rides everywhere to avoid using the subway would be way too expensive. She wasn't particularly relishing the idea of going into another subway station anytime soon, but what choice did she have?

"Then you will be granted a travel allowance by Runway for when our cars are not available," Miranda told her.

"Miranda, I can't just charge Runway every time I get a taxi and I'm not working," Andy said, exasperated. "There's no justification."

"There is every justification!" Miranda said angrily, raising her voice in an out of character move. "I need you in order to do my job and there is absolutely no way on earth that if anything happened to you I would be able to do that." She cleared her throat. "And it goes without saying that if by some unfortunate event something as horrendous as this were to happen to you again within this vicinity, you do not hesitate to come here. Do you understand?"

Andy nodded, dumbstruck. "Yes, I understand."

"Good," Miranda responded, and Andy knew at once there was no point in arguing. Miranda's mind was made up, and the discussion was over. Andy supposed she should just be grateful and look forward to not having to use the subway for the foreseeable future, at least as long as she was employed at Runway.

At the moment she couldn't bring herself to wonder exactly what Miranda's motives were for taking care of her like this. It was completely unlike the older woman to do anything without it being a benefit to her, although Andy failed to see what she achieved by looking after her like this. She was sure that she was missing something, but however hard she tried Andy couldn't work out what that something was.. She supposed it didn't really matter; there was no way she'd be able to figure it out now anyway, especially considering the amount of pain she was in. Therefore, she chose to do the sensible thing for once and wait and see if any possible reasons came to light.

At some stage when this was all over, Andy would discover Miranda's motives. She would make sure of it.