Andy stood at the door, looking at the key in her hand. It felt strange to let herself into Miranda's house when she wasn't there for work, and yet, the more she looked down at the little silver key the more she thought maybe Miranda would want her to let herself in, so she wouldn't be disturbed.

"I believe the answer is 42."

Andy jumped, literally off the ground and landed with her heels just slightly off the top step.

"Crap," she groaned as she felt herself toppling backwards.

"Andréa!"

She was floating. Andy was sure of it, because she scrunched up her eyes, expecting the impact, except it hadn't happened yet. She cracked open her eyes to find Miranda's hand gripping tightly onto her coat sleeve.

"Andréa, I don't have all night."

Blushing violently, Andy got her feet back under control and stood, blushing even more as she saw the little smirk turning up the corners of Miranda's mouth.

"I thought you'd finally learnt to live in heels."

"You can't expect a girl to not fall at your feet every time you appear in front of them."

It was only after Miranda took her coat, did she realise how that sounded. She shook her head as she followed Miranda into the downstairs sitting room.

She sat down in what she had come to think of as 'her' chair. They always occupied the same space no matter what they were doing. Andy would perch on the end of the sofa, and Miranda would have the arm chair. Andy had no qualms about settling into the comfortable lounge, and was soon smiling as Miranda handed her a mug of tea.

"The girls are just finishing up their other homework and then they'll join us. By the way, don't think I didn't know what you were doing earlier," Miranda said as she too sat down.

Andy suddenly felt very sick. She had no idea what she had been doing today, so how could Miranda know.

"The tea," she quipped and Andy let out another breath.

"Oh, yeah. You looked like you could use it. What did you mean before, about the answer?" she asked, trying to divert attention away from her clammy palms and her beating heart.

"The answer to the question of the universe," she said off hand. "What is wrong with you today?" Miranda said, getting up and joining Andy on the sofa. "You've been off since we returned from Zac's. Are you ill? Did he say something to you? Something untoward? You need to tell me Andréa, I'll sort it out."

"No, no, nothing happened, just a long day I guess," Andy said with a sigh. Despite whatever this 'thing' was that they were doing, Andy couldn't help but think of those three small children, probably still hanging about in a hospital after learning that their parents had died. "I just, it doesn't matter." Andy shook her head and busied herself with her laptop bag. "Do you know what the girls are doing their assignments on?"

"I have no idea, what is the matter?"

"Nothing," she tried again. "I totally would never have picked you for a Douglas Adams fan."

"Andréa, do not brush me off. I would like you to tell me as there is obviously something going on in that head of yours."

"Well, I can't, can I?" Andy snapped, closing her eyes the minute she said anything.

"Why not?" Miranda asked, looking genuinely perplexed. "Is it something with work? Would you like me to fire Nigel for talking about personal affairs while you are trying to work?"

"God, will you just stop?" Andy spat, getting up and putting a little space between them. "It's nothing to do with work, or Zac, or anything alright?"

"You are angry at me," Miranda said, tilting her head to the side, like she did when she was trying to determine which of Patrick's shots were the more useful. "Why are you angry at me?"

"I told you, I don't want to talk about it!"

As luck would have it, two whirlwinds entered the sitting room at the very next moment, saving Andy from having to explain herself. Miranda frowned over the top of the twin's heads, but said nothing further, quietly excusing herself from the room while the girls, and Andy, worked.

"Hey Andy?" Caroline asked as they put the finishing touches on their assignments.

"Hey Caroline?" Andy replied in fashion, making the twin grin.

"Are you and Mom like, friends?"

Andy sighed.

"Yeah I guess. I mean, I'm one of your Mom's friends."

"She doesn't have any," Cassidy said, frowning as she rewrote a paragraph. "You're her only one. And she talks about you all the time."

"Well, it's better to have one awesome friend than ten not so awesome ones, right?"

"I guess. I have Katie and Cass has Michael," Caroline nodded. "You have Mom and Mom has you."

"Something like that," Andy muttered as Miranda breezed back in.

"Girls, it's nearly dinnertime. Go up and wash your hands and Andréa and I will meet you in the kitchen."

"Yes Mom," they said in stereo, escaping from the room and leaving Miranda and Andy staring awkwardly at anything but each other.

"Would you still like to stay for dinner?" Miranda asked quietly.

"I already told the girls I would," Andy said with a shrug. "If it's still alright with you?"

"I invited you in the first place Andréa," Miranda huffed.

"Yes, and now things are not as they were."

"Are they not?" Miranda called over her shoulder, leaving Andy alone in the sitting room. How was she ever supposed to win against the most impossible woman on the planet.

-0-

Dinner was tense, but the twins carried it marvellously. Between their entertaining anecdotes about their classmates and Miranda's occasional droll comment about a parent or teacher, they managed to get away with not talking to each other until everyone had taken their plates to the dishwasher.

Cara had gone home before dinner, so Andy loaded the last few things and wiped down the counters.

"Right, up to bed, brush your teeth and I'll be up soon to tuck you in," Miranda said, kissing both of her girls on the head.

"We don't need you to Mom," Caroline whined, making Miranda's face fall a little.

"Yeah, we're not babies anymore," Cassidy agreed, before catching Miranda's face and seeing Andy's subtle shake of the head. "Oh, but um, maybe just this once."

"What? Why -ow!"

Andy grinned into her laptop bag when Cassidy kicked Caroline in the shins, but nodded proudly as she caught on and proclaimed one more night wouldn't hurt them.

"Thank you," Miranda said, once they'd disappeared. "I cannot tell them I want to keep them as children all their lives, but you understood."

"I remember wishing even when I was older than they are now that I could have a hug from someone before bed, but I had never had touchy-feely parents, and besides which, it was 'way uncool'," Andy grinned but then her face fell. "Thanks for dinner but I best be going now and leave you to your evening. I'll be back with The Book later."

"I would actually like you to stay a little longer. I have something I would like to discuss with you."

Knowing it was fruitless to argue, Andy sat back down, bouncing her leg up and down while she waited.

"I know why you are angry at me," Miranda said as she took her normal seat, "and it is not at all fair."

Andy rolled her eyes.

"Life isn't fair, and you can't guarantee you know why I'm angry at you," she paused. "If it is that I'm angry at you. I don't know that I am."

"You are, and it is because I refuse to open my home to those children, is it not? I will not put myself out for the ex-husband and the floozy he ran off with, not even for three children."

"Look, it's nothing to do with me -" Andy started, before being waved off by Miranda's hand.

"No no, I was not asking you to comment. That is why you are angry with me, and I think it is highly unfair of you to blame me for not taking them."

"How old are they?" Andy asked, wondering if Miranda could hear how stuck up she sounded.

"Oh, I have no idea. They can only be five or six if she got pregnant as soon as the divorce was finalised."

"Yeah well, do you remember when the girls were six Miranda? Younger than six? Do you remember what it was like; remember soothing their nightmares and holding them as they cried?"

"Stop it," Miranda spatas she got up and started to pace.

"No," Andy refused. "Do you remember how small a six year old is Miranda, how easily they fit in your arms? Except for their legs of course; usually they're all gangly and long and even though they're a 'big girl', they still love your cuddles."

"STOP!" Miranda shouted, startling herself just as much as Andy at the volume. She took a few deep breaths, before turning to look at Andy. "I apologise for raising my voice but they are Alec's children, and I refuse to get involved."

"Do you know what it's like to live in a foster home?" Andy asked quietly, looking up at Miranda and waiting for her to meet her eyes before continuing. "Do you know what it's like living in an orphanage?"

"No, but then neither do you," Miranda sneered.

"And how would you know that?" Andy said, getting up and slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Did you ever ask me? Did you ever ask me why I was so sorry that I couldn't get you a flight out of Miami in the middle of a hurricane to watch your children? I knew how important that was for you, because I know how important it would have been for me and for my parents to have seen me in a school play. Do you know what I was doing that night? I was meeting my father. My real father, a man I see, at best, once every year. The man who didn't even know I existed until I was fifteen when he tracked down my deadbeat mother again, finding her drugged up to her eyeballs at some dive motel. The woman who gave me up when I was three." Andy had gained some speed and refused to take in Miranda's shocked expression.

"Did you think the only awful thing that ever happened to me was falling out of a tree house when I was six? I know what it's like to be abandoned Miranda. And you, you here in your million dollar house, with your thousand dollar purses and shoes tell me you 'simply can't' take in three children because it would ruin your perfect life?" Andy shook her head. "I thought I knew you, I thought this thing we were doing was giving me an insight into the real you, but there you go, making me realise that you're just another over-privileged woman who's too busy painting her nails than to take in one little girl."

"Mom?"

"Andréa, wait!" Miranda said, ignoring Cassidy's shocked face that appeared at the top of the staircase and instead attempted to grab Andy before she could get out of the door..

Andy, however, didn't stop and raced out of the front door before anyone could say anything else, breathing deeply as she hid around the corner.

"Stupid idiot." She stood against the cold bricks, ignoring how they would snag on her top, gently knocking her head against the wall. "Stupid!"

"Andréa?"

She spun around, gaping at Miranda who had pulled on what looked like a pair of Ugg boots and a very comfortable, but very unfashionable over-sized sweat jacket.

"Miranda?"

"Come back inside please," she asked quietly.

Andy had not quite worked out how to say no to Miranda yet, even with all their blurring lines, so she simply picked up her bag and walked back to the townhouse, ignoring Miranda completely. It was only when she'd taken her shoes off again that she turned around to see Miranda looking very small, standing awkwardly by her own front door.

"I think we should talk," Miranda said gently, waiting for a moment before Andy nodded.

"Possibly," Andy shrugged.

"For real this time, not as a favour to me, and not to stop me from thinking about making a speech. Talk Andréa."

Andy just nodded, and led the way to the sitting room, stopping as Miranda placed her hand on Andy's arm.

"Upstairs," she said purposefully.

"I -"

"Just go upstairs Andréa," Miranda said, moving away to set the alarm before following in Andy's footsteps.