Disclaimer: Fox and Paramount own the rights to the movie and tv-show respectively. I only play with them for fun, and no copyright infringement is ever intended.
Fandoms: The Devil Wears Prada
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Andy/Miranda
Prompt: Feb 4, 2012 by mxrolkr on the DWP community on LiveJournal. "Once is an occurrence, Twice is a pattern, Three times...is a problem."
Summary: Touching someone once is indeed an occurrence, or should be. Andy is in the car with Miranda and unlikely things happen. Touching someone a second time, is a pattern, yes? How can you blame such a thing on a fork? Touching someone a third time, can be a problem, if it's the last time. But what if it is really the first. Does this saying start all over again?
A/N: This story is in three parts and it's ready to go up, I just need to make sure it's as proofread as I can manage. Part 3 should be up tomorrow (Feb 9)
Touch
A MirAndy A/U fan fiction
By Gun Brooke
Twice… is a pattern…
"Andrea." Miranda stopped by her desk. "What on earth are you wearing?"
"I'm sorry. I haven't had time to change yet. I came directly here from the hospital." Andy looked carefully at her boss. Miranda had started out sounding scandalized, but now a flicker of concern ghosted over her features.
"Hospital. Are you all right?"
"Uhm. Me? Oh, yeah, sure." Andy blinked at the question. When had Miranda ever asked any of her assistants anything like that? "I'm okay, thank you. It's my friend Doug. He had emergency surgery last night."
"Oh. I trust the young man is all right?" Miranda was rapping her impeccable nails on the top of Andy's computer screen as she spoke.
"He was awake enough to be adamant I should change before going into work." Andy smiled. "I told him I'd ask Nigel for something from the closet. If that's all right with you?"
"Of course it is. We can't have you looking like you're hired to paint the place. Massimo is coming with his investors after lunch."
"Unless you have something I need to do right away, I'll just pop over to the closet—"
"I'll go with you." Miranda turned around and headed for the door.
Stunned, Andy pushed away from her desk and hurried after her. She saw Emily do her best beached guppy impression, which she hardly could blame her for.
The closet seemed as endless as usual. Normally, Andy would ask one of the fashionistas there, or preferably Nigel, but now she was under Miranda's scrutiny, which meant the closet was abandoned.
"Now. Let's see. You're a four these days."
"I—"
"No, no. That wasn't a question. Let's see." Miranda walked up and down each rack, a slight frown on her forehead. She sometimes pulled out a hanger, but then put it back, shaking her head. "I know we had some Armani slacks…" she muttered.
Andy walked two steps behind hers, watching Miranda with fascination. She really couldn't care less what Miranda would ultimately decide on. In fact, Andy cared much more about what Miranda wore. The light grey pencil skirt hugged her perfectly rounded hips and ass, and the dark blue wrap-around blouse left her cleavage only partly obscured, but still on the right side of appropriate. Her black Louboutins made her legs look amazing. Then there was the way Miranda talked to herself, muttering, humming, and the faces she made, little grimaces that were subtle, but spoke volumes. Like right now, when she pulled out a lilac blouse and it was clearly not her forte. She did all but roll her eyes over the hanger toward Andy.
Eventually Miranda had picked two pairs of slacks, both Armani, and three tops from different designers. "Here. Try these on."
"Okay. Thanks." Andy took the hangers and walked to the dressing room area. Miranda strolled behind her and gracefully sat down on one of the armchairs, clearly intent on waiting.
Shaking her head in bewilderment, Andy stepped inside and took off her jeans and t-shirt. She realized one of her dilemmas as soon as she tried the first top. It wasn't see-through, but it was too thin to wear without a bra. Escorting Doug to the ER had not entailed thinking about lingerie, or even a sports bra. It had been a 'call paramedics and pray his appendix wouldn't rupture" kind of situation.
"Miranda. I think I need another top. More sturdy, kind of?" Andy made a face behind the curtain, waiting for a scathing remark.
"Why?" Miranda asked and then a slender hand pushed the fabric between them away.
Andy had removed the top and stood there in just the Armani slacks that actually fit her like they were custom made. "Oh." Andy fought not to cover herself like a bashful Victorian maiden. "As you can tell. No bra today." She couldn't stop herself from blushing though.
"I see." Miranda gripped the curtain hard and ran her tongue along her lips. Her cheeks became faintly pink. "34 C?"
"Yes." Andy wanted to shrink back and not have Miranda peruse the body she once had deemed as fat. Most of the models Runway worked with were A or AA when it came to cup sizes, and Andy hadn't been that small since middle-school.
Miranda left and then came back with a set of La Perla lingerie. The light-blue lace was so sheer, Andy wondered if it would actually do her any good.
"Change everything and wear the whole set." Miranda spoke curtly. "Hurry back when you're done. Either of those tops will be a good choice. She nodded and then left.
Andy ended up choosing a top a few shakes darker than the lingerie. Returning to the office with her jeans and t-shirt in a Runway bag, she only shrugged when Emily glared at her.
"I'm off to run errands for Miranda." Emily put on her coat. "You were gone so long so now I'm late."
"Well, I'm here now." Andy was too preoccupied thinking about what just happened in the Closet, to worry about ticking Emily off.
The phone kept ringing like mad until it was time for lunch. Miranda had asked Emily to order food from Wollensky's and now a young man was standing just outside the door, looking nervous. Clearly not a first time delivery for this guy. Andy smiled warmly as she tipped him from the petty cash. She brought the bag into the kitchen and opened the boxes. Staring at the two large steaks, she blinked. Was someone joining Miranda for lunch, or was she just super hungry?
"One is for you," Miranda said from behind, making Andy jump and nearly bite her tongue. "Oh, my. You scare easily, don't you? Don't look at me like that, Andrea. You have to eat, don't you? I can't imagine that you got something worth eating for breakfast while waiting for updates on your friend?"
"Uhm, no. Thank you." Andy was ready to feel for antennas beneath the silver-white hair. Surely a body snatcher was at large at Runway? Not commenting any further, Andy put together two plats of steaks and steamed vegetables, sprinkled some chopped herbs on top and carried Miranda's tray into her office. As she walked back to retrieve her own, she had just placed the try on her desk when she heard Miranda say, "Have your lunch in here, Andrea."
Andy wondered if she was meant to bring her notebook. Knowing hos Miranda hated delays, she put it on the tray together with a pen, just in case.
"Good. I've cleared a spot for you." Miranda had actually waited for Andy, and that she'd moved things off her desk so they could share, was mind-blowing.
They ate in silence for a few minutes and Andy decided this was the best steak she'd had since she left Cincinnati. Miranda at half of hers and then pushed the plate aside. Immediately, Andy put her knife and fork down too. "Want me to bring you a Starbucks?"
"No. Well, later, but I want you to finish your meal."
"Oh. Thanks." Andy knew her eyes must be like saucers by now. And 'Miranda's' antenna's should be showing. This was getting stranger by the minute.
"The office can be quite tranquil when everybody else is out to lunch, don't you agree?" Miranda played with her necklace, this time not the pricy heirloom that got trapped in her bra a while back. Still the memory made Andy press her thighs together. She knew she'd never forget the moment when her fingers touched and pressed against Miranda Priestly's breast. How was it that this moment stood out clearer to her, than her hottest sessions with Nate, her former boyfriend?
"Yes, it's nice to rest your ears as well as your mind."
"So true. You would think that walking on marble should be easy once you've gotten used to it. I swear half the office staff thinks they're models on the catwalk stuck in the nineties when stomping was in."
Andy couldn't help but laugh. The image Miranda conjured up was irresistible. She could easily picture the clackers as model-wannabees and especially a couple of them who hated her with a passion merely for having frequent access to Miranda. Andy's laughter faded when she saw Miranda's rapt attention.
"You really have the most amazing smile." Miranda looked thoughtful as she raised the slider on its long chain and rubbed it against her lips.
"Thank you?" Andy could hardly breathe. Miranda liked her smile?
"I normally scoff at the expression 'she lights up the entire room' when it comes to smiling, but in your case…I think you're the exception to that. You do."
Andy blinked. She did what? Light up a room? Really? She wanted to ask for a clarification, preferably in writing since she had stopped trusting her ears around Miranda, but of course she didn't. "You should smile more often."
"Excuse me?" Miranda seemed pulled out of deep thoughts.
"Smile. More often." Oh, God. Andy winced. What was she thinking?
"I would find that detrimental to my objectives at work." Miranda tilted her head, tapping her index finger against her lower lip. "But when it's just us, I will attempt it. Fair enough?"
"S-sure." Andrea knew she was breathing faster than usual. What had started out as being out of breath was quickly heading for hyper-ventilating.
Miranda incinerated what was left of Andy's mind by leaning forward and taking Andy's hand across the table. "I can tell that you're confused, Andrea. I know I normally don't pick out your clothes or ask you to share your lunch hour with me."
"My fifteen minutes, you mean." Andy gave a crooked smile.
"Yes." Miranda acknowledged her words by dipping her head once. "I wish I could give you a simple, all-encompassing reason, but I can't. I rarely do things at the spur of the moment, but today I did. Twice."
"I don't mind. I mean, I appreciate it. Whether you meant for it to happen or not, I still felt kind of special." Andy wasn't sure where the honesty came from, but she could tell that Miranda was focusing on her every word. "I would never assume—oh, shoot."
Andy's fork had decided to live a life of its own and jumped across the desk and down on the floor next to Miranda. Andy gasped and rose, rounding the desk. Bending down, she tried to spot the missing fork, and then she saw something glimmer just in front of Miranda's Louboutins.
"Oh, there it is. If you just back up a bit, yes, like so." Andy reached in to get the fork, and that's when it happened. Miranda shifted and moved her right foot just as Andy extended her arms. This mean she accidentally slid her hand up along the inside of Miranda's calf, knee and thigh, clearly right where her stockings ended and velvet skin began. Mortified, but unable to change her trajectory as she lost her balance and fell forward. Flailing, Andy grabbed for the armrests of Miranda's chair, but they were too high up. Instead she found herself hanging onto Miranda's knees while trying to regain her balance.
Miranda placed her hands on top of Andy's and held them in place. "Are you all right?" She raised an eyebrow. "Or are you just intent on looking for more expensive jewelry. I can assure you, I have no jewelry under my skirt."
"Oh, God, Miranda. I'm so sorry. I really am. I didn't mean to—" Andy tried to get up, to remove her hands from Miranda's knees, and the whole time trying not to think about the brief sensation of feeling how soft Miranda's thighs were. To her astonishment, Miranda kept Andy's hands in place, not taking her eyes off her. She didn't seem angry, if anything she looked just a tad amused. Eventually she removed her hands and Andy could pick up the fork and get off the floor.
As it turned out, she barely made it out into the kitchen before Emily returned. As the other assistant hung clothes on the rack and stashed different items underneath, Andy rinsed off the plates and put them in the dishwasher. When she was done, she grabbed her coat and poked her head in to Miranda's office just as Massimo Corteleone and his crew entered. "I'll be back with your Starbucks, Miranda. Mr. Corteleone, would you or any of your party like some Starbucks as well?"
"How thoughtful of you," Massimo said, beaming. "She's a pearl, this young woman, Miranda. "He winked at Andy. I'll have a latte, please." He ran his eyes over her as the other three listed their coffee preference. Andy maintained her best non-committal expression, but nearly faltered when she suddenly saw the fury in Miranda's voice. The strange thing was, it wasn't directed at Andy, but at Massimo who only now realized that he had done something to anger the Devil. Andy was at a total loss as to why, and hurrying out the door toward Starbucks, she had a feeling so was Massimo.
