By the time Miranda was in view of the car nothing more was heard except for the steady whistling of the winds through the gnarled, low lying coastal trees. Andréa had yet to see her so she paused, taking in a scene of such abject dejection that her heart climbed into her throat, urging her arms to surround the girl with comfort. But Miranda was made of stronger stuff than her heart, at least when her head convinced her of that fact, and she remained rooted, fighting the urge to gather the soaked and shivering woman into her, and awaited either an acknowledgement of her presence or a lessening of her own intense emotions before she made a fool of herself.

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Andréa shivered as she leaned palms down on the hood of the Land Cruiser, frustrated tears mingling with the rainwater and sea spray that soaked every inch of her. When she'd gotten to the car and it had failed to start she had felt the first strains of panic as she knew a little of what made cars work and the sound that was coming from the engine compartment when she turned the key boded nothing but trouble. Hoping against hope that she was wrong, that it was a loose wire somewhere and not a bad starter, she rolled up her sleeves, popped the hood and began eliminating possibilities. She had been fine until the rain started, it was then that a feeling of desperation had descended upon her and her actions grew jerkier with images crashing one upon the other, each more graphic and horrific than the other, as to what it would mean to be trapped on this island with a major hurricane slamming directly into them.

Defeated she had finally screamed her frustration and let the hood of the SUV slam with a loud crash. She stood in her soaked designer clothes, vaguely aware that she was trembling but unable to move. She knew she had to go back and give Miranda the bad news.

Oh god.

This was so not bad news. Bad news was, "Hey, I'm sorry but Patricia's dog walker was delayed by an hour and it was Cara's day off so the one hundred and twenty pound mountain of fur laid down a two pound pile of poo smack dab in the middle of your fifty-thousand dollar Persian rug". So no, this was not bad news; this was catastrophe of the potentially fatal variety.

Head still down and suddenly exhausted not to mention cold she let herself cry for several more moments, knowing that she had to pull it together and not show vulnerability in front of Miranda. At least the rain will hide my tears she comforted herself even as she knew that when she cried it was always obvious even once the tears were dried.

She had just managed to convince herself that she could handle everything, that this was really happening, that somehow she needed to keep herself together and that to accomplish all she would actually need to move. She gathered her flagging energy and was just about to push her now sluggish body back from the car when a warm hand settled on her forearm.

"GAAAhhhh! Oh my god!" Andy jumped and pulled away, arms flailing outwards, her modest grip on composure shredding like tissue paper. Wild eyed with hair and clothes plastered to her body she regressed beyond even those early days when she first started at Runway; transported back to those days in junior year of high school when she had to cope with too much reality and chose not to. She remained present enough to understand that a message of some import still needed to be delivered but the calm assessment of the situation that she intended lost something in the translation.

"Miranda! I'm sorry! Damn! I'm so sorry. Uhm, starter; it's the uhm starter, it's fucked; I can't fix it; I can't! I'm so sorry I can't fix it!"

Miranda had finally given in, albeit not entirely, to her first inclination and reached out to offer what little comfort she could afford; concern for the young woman overriding her fear of losing face. As she took stock of the younger woman who was now standing several feet away with head down and arms wrapped around herself in a protective gesture she discovered that it was indeed possible for Andréa to shiver even more probably due no doubt from both the stress and the complete soaking she had endured.

Andy stiffened and berated her stupidity and lack of control although it all did seem rather far away right now. She knew that a reprimand was inevitable; how could there not be one? She'd messed up; they were stuck, she just knew it. Just like she knew that she was well and truly fucked and gods but she was cold. Her chattering teeth and manic introspection caused her to miss something outside. Huh? She knew she had to pay attention, Miranda was speaking and whenever Miranda spoke it was important. Ah yes, she was waiting for her infamous anger to assault her. But wait a minute, what?!

Andy worried now that her disconnect from reality was even more severe than she'd thought; but then she remembered that she wasn't that Andréa anymore and this wasn't that Miranda. They were different now; the difference being lost to her at the moment; however a part of her held onto it. Even so, when there was no harsh rebuke, instead only a quiet and steady non-blaming it sparked a new round of confusion. Maybe I am fucking crazy again.

"Andréa, please, it's not your fault".

Miranda watched in morbid fascination and with a great deal of confusion as the one adult with whom she felt the greatest connection appeared to completely lose it. When she rounded the curve in the drive to be greeted by such profanity she was instinctually affronted and her automatic reflex to attack nearly was given reign. Fortunately that other part of her being, the one that was herself in relation to Andréa, was able to silence the tirade before it fully took form. The relief she experienced by that was quickly subsumed by an all-encompassing concern for Andréa's well-being; surely this level of major freak out was not normal, even for Andréa in her early days as her assistant.

Her intelligent mind assessed the signs and concluded that if Andréa wasn't already in a very real, physiological shock that she was rapidly careening towards it. The realization snapped her from her own disassociation with current events and spurred her to action.

"Come; we'll go back to the house and figure something out." She dropped the raincoat over Andréa's shoulders, not like it will do much good now, and started to drag the now silent woman away from the SUV but stopped before they turned towards the house.

"Andréa." She waited a moment for acknowledgement and when there was none turned Andréa towards her and tilted her chin up so their eyes could meet. It took a moment for those ever so expressive eyes to focus back to the current physical plane, however briefly and she asked, "Is there anything of importance in the vehicle?"

It took a few seconds and then there was a slight head shake but no answer was forthcoming so Miranda squeezed the hand even as she pinched back another wave of annoyance. Yes she was concerned but damn it all to bloody hell, she was probably two steps close to losing it herself and dealing with this vulnerable woman was pushing her closer by the second.

As Andréa's slight head shake was inconclusive she left her standing in the middle of the drive for a moment and quickly searched the seats and floor for anything of value, pulling Andréa's laptop from the backseat and a rolling cooler with Pellegrino and fruit from the rear compartment. She then ducked into the open driver's side and removed the keys from the ignition before settling the laptop bag's strap diagonally across her body under the raincoat and grabbed the pull handle of the cooler. Grateful that the rain and wind had calmed just a bit she reached out with her free hand and grasped an ice cold hand, cradling it in her own as she tugged the entire load, including her lost assistant, back towards shelter.

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Miranda dragged her suitcases back into the main room and moved for her cell phone. She was torn, Andréa was still in a fairly fragile state and needed attention as she continued to stand in the middle of the room and stare but she knew as well that time was critical now; they had to find a way off of the island immediately. Opting to do what she could to manage both she dialed Nigel as she moved to a guest bathroom and grabbed several towels. She had returned to Andréa and was draping them over her as she realized the call had went to voicemail. Cursing several times she barely tolerated the wait for the beep as she left a terse "Call me" before laying one of the towels on the leather sofa and then directing the still shivering woman to sit.

"Andréa." Miranda was hoping that with repetitive inquiries and touch that she could help forge a path back to reality for the still unresponsive woman. As she gently moved her hands along the bare skin of tanned forearms, their coldness indicated that perhaps the priority was not to make contact with the outside world but to get her warm.

She draped several towels over Andréa's body, and the rubbing on her arms and shoulders increased in pressure in hopes of getting the circulation back all the while murmuring that it wasn't her fault and that they were going to be fine, hopeful that the slight waver in her voice went unnoticed as she was not altogether convinced that they would be.

The ringing of her cell phone interrupted her efforts but she answered quickly, settling next to the shivering woman.

"Nigel. Where are you?"

"We're on northbound 60, south of route 20; it's slow going but we're moving. Serena is driving while I'm navigating while the bus with the models and couture is following; it's a good thing we got out of there when we all did as the weather reports say it's gotten a lot larger and is now aimed at the island. How far behind us are you and Andy?"

"The car wouldn't start; we're still on the island." She really was amazed at how her conditioning as the Ice Queen allowed her to maintain an even tone.

"What?! Miranda…" Nigel of course never could resist allowing his emotions to roll out unchecked.

"Yes, Nigel, I am well aware that this is a less than ideal situation, but at least everyone else from our party is now safely away."

"What are you going to do? There were signs posted that the bridge would probably be closing by 4:00; sooner if it got too rough, and Miranda I cannot tell you just how rough it was even when we made the crossing." He sighed dramatically, "It's a good thing that Serena was driving because I was half cowering beneath the dashboard."

Miranda looked at the clock on her phone with a sinking feeling; 3:40. A tersely murmured, "Fuck" slipped out before she could censor her brain to mouth connection. So much for the Ice Queen she internally sneered.

Nigel's eyebrows climbed high up his brow at the expletive but made no comment on its rarity; if ever there was a time for the always controlled professional face to slip, this was it.

"Okay then..." Miranda paused for a moment and reviewed their options. "I'm going to call emergency services and find out exactly what our options are and then I will call you back."

Nigel snorted, despite the gravity of the situation, as the phone disconnected abruptly in typical dragon form.

Miranda looked over at Andréa and noted that she wasn't shaking as badly and that her color was improving somewhat; she would deal with getting her back on track after this next call.

"9-1-1, what is your emergency?"

"We are stuck in a house on the western end of St. George Island; our car would not start and despite our best efforts, it isn't going anywhere." The iron control of both her language and delivery had returned. "We need to know if there is anyone available to assist us with evacuating; or…" Her voice lost some of its vigor and she completed the last thought with a hint of resignation, "…if that is even an option at this point."

The 911 operator paused; this was not a good situation as the western end of the island was the most vulnerable to the storm surge, past hurricanes having wiped entire blocks of houses away leaving nothing behind. However she didn't want this person to panic so worked to steady her voice.

"Ma'am unfortunately the bridge to the mainland closed twenty minutes ago."

Miranda closed her eyes and let out a slight gasp; of course the bridge closed, had even intuited that it would be so; she swallowed against the sudden acid taste in her mouth and pushed forward, it was time to gather as much information as possible. "Can you tell me what we may expect? There are two of us here and we are unfamiliar with hurricanes; we've only been on this island for three days."

The operator fiddled with a ballpoint pen as she reached for something positive to say; there were very few structures on the island that would survive a direct hit and even the emergency personnel had evacuated, being the last to cross to the mainland as they closed the bridge behind them. "Ma'am I wish I could give you better news but you are in a very vulnerable spot on the island and all emergency personnel have left for the mainland. Where are you in relation to the beachfront and what type of house are you in?"

"We are approximately a hundred meters from the ocean and are in the domed house that is purportedly hurricane proof."

At this the operator perked up, perhaps there was hope for them after all. "Ma'am…"

"Miranda please."

"Well alright, Miranda." The slight lift in the operator's tone seemed to strengthen her soft southern accent, "this may not seem like it but this may just be your lucky day. If you have to be anywhere on that island when this storm comes in I'd say you're in the best possible spot."

Some of the tension that had threaded its way through every muscle in Miranda's body relaxed, finally, something right. "What can we expect? Is there anything we need to do to prepare? How long may we expect to be here, when will the storm make landfall?" Miranda snapped her jaw shut at her uncharacteristic ramble; when she glanced over at Andréa she nearly laughed at the incredulous look upon her face but instead opted to reach over and give her hand a squeeze. Noting that Andréa's body temperature had warmed somewhat she rolled her eyes and then put the operator on speaker; there was no need now to shield the woman next to her as she seemed to have regained some of her sharpness.

"Whoa, one thing at a time Miranda! I don't have all the answers but I can give you the house owner's cell phone number and they'll be able to give you a good idea of what to expect. In the meantime I would say make sure that any electronic device you have is at full battery power and that even if there is bottled water stored that you fill however many bathtubs are in the house with cold water as you may be stuck there for a while. Also, whatever you do, don't leave that house until you are absolutely certain that the storm has passed. Oh, and even then, be careful! The sand becomes like quicksand when the water gets up there, you need to remember to not take anything around you for granted."

The woman gave them the number for the owners and then hung up after a cheery "Good luck!"

The two women just sat there for a moment in silence, each absorbing the enormity of the situation although Andy, having not had the awareness nor access to the first half of the conversation had questions. She cleared her throat and looked sheepishly at Miranda. "I'm really sorry for going off the deep end there Miranda."

Miranda snorted which caused a replay of Andy's earlier look of disbelief at the uncharacteristic behavior. Andy straightened up a bit and asked quietly with the barest hint of humor; "Okay, who are you and where did my dragon lady go?!"

As soon as it left her mouth she winced and stood up quickly, towels dropping from her body like leaves from an autumn tree. Christ Andy, what is wrong with you? "Uh, well, uh I think I'm still not well; I mean I'm sorry Miranda!" Her voice strengthened and her face, only moments before a deathly pale, now blazed with warmth.

The desiccated "Really" that Miranda shot back at her did little to assuage Andy's distress.

"I mean, obviously, you're not mine…" She frowned and chewed her lip. "I mean really you're not…" She glanced up at the steady gaze and pressed her hand to her forehead; "Gods just shoot me now" she mumbled unintelligibly but then met the unrelenting skewering and pushed forward. "Whatever, that's not important right now, we're stuck here right? There's no leaving and there's a Cat 4 hurricane hurtling straight for us; is that the story?"

Miranda swallowed her disbelief at Andréa's words, "my dragon lady" tumbling repetitively drowning out Andréa's continued attempts at a coherent retraction. She kept as tight of a rein to her helter-skelter emotions as best she could and continued to watch in her own suspended state of shock as Andréa jerkily attempted to gain control of her mouth. It took several seconds of silence for Miranda to realize that Andréa had completed her frantic pacing and was looking at her expectantly. Oh, bollocks, what did she just say? She reviewed the prior seconds' memory and understood that Andréa may have asked her a question. "I'm sorry Andréa, would you repeat that last part?"

The hand flew up again but instead of slapping her forehead, Andy rubbed at her furrowed brow with a thumb and forefinger, pinching the bridge of her nose. Miranda was daydreaming?!

Andy decided it was just better to focus on the 'simple' part and at the end of a deep breath, exhaled her response. "Yeah, we can't leave, right?"

Miranda released her own prolonged, frustrated sigh both because of her actions and her preoccupation but still managed within that single breath to convey that Andréa was correct.

Now that Andy was no longer covered she realized just how cold she was and a new round of shivers rippled through her body. "Uh, I've gotta change; these clothes…"

"Yes, yes do…" Miranda's voice trailed off. What is wrong with me?!

"Will you wait until I come back to call the owners?"

But Miranda was lost deep in thought again and merely tilted her head, which Andy took as a yes as she made her way back upstairs to her room and her neatly packed bags. If this is how we are after only a couple of hours, how the hell are we going to be able to spend who knows how long in each other's company?

Miranda continued to sit for several minutes, staring blankly at nothing as she wondered just what had gotten into her. She was so relieved that Andréa had come back to her, the woman's disconnection from the world around her setting off a firecracker of worry, on top of the already raging inferno of fretting caused by being stuck on a beach with a hurricane aiming for them.

She wished she didn't care so much; wished that she was on the mainland; wished that there was no hurricane. Now everything was different; the necessity of enduring this trial would call upon them to interact in a way far beyond their carefully balanced professional charade and Miranda wasn't sure if she was going to be able to handle it.