Thank you guys! Here is the happy ending to the story. (In case of confusion- this installment is a happy ending to the first chapter's ending, not chapter 2.) Inspired by Blank Page by Sia :) Max Harrison is Lauren Weisberger's!

What the hell. Andy thinks as she looks at the outrageous bouquet of flowers on her work desk. Some of her co-workers had already flocked around her desk, making no attempt to hide their interest at the display. I swear...if it's Miranda... Andrea pushes back the intense hurt in her chest and shrugs off her laptop bag from her shoulder, letting it fall on her desk chair.

"Alright," Andy says, waving her arms as if she were waving away a fly. "Shoo."

There are some grumbles, but most of her colleagues can tell by her red eyes and darkened face that Andy Sachs is in no mood to be trifled with today. Once people are out of her space, the brunette inspects the bouquet closer and shifts the flowers around to find a small white card. On it, written in elegant script, are the words: I'm sorry. M. It takes a good five minutes for Andy to get her anger under control before she calmly stands up, picks the large glass vase up, and walks out the back door. Her co-workers hear a loud crash followed by the sound of glass shattering, muffled shouting and swearing, and then Andy returns in the same condition she left in, albeit her flushed face. She walks back to her desk ignoring the curious looks, pulls out her laptop, and plugs it into the charger. She then sits down and pulls out her iPod. Shoving the earbuds deep into her ears, Andy hits 'play', and starts working.


It's late by the time Andrea finishes her article on school budgets, but at least she's done. She has turned a boring topic into an intriguing one, complete with thorough interviews, interesting stories, and incorporated some of her own personal struggles and issues with the system into the piece. Scrubbing her hand over her face, Andy sighs and sends the finished product to the copy editors. She reclines in her chair and notices that she's the only one left in the office. A tear slips down her face before she can help it, and her hand unconsciously goes to clutch her broken chest. It hurts so much, Andy can barely breathe now that she's alone. Miranda didn't choose her. Miranda chose Runway. She chose to sink so low that she cheated on Andy with none other than Jacqueline, her arch-nemesis. The journalist lets out a sound that's a cross between a howl and a sob and lowers her head to the desk. I am nothing to her. She allows herself to indulge in a small cry-fest before straightening up and wiping her tears away furiously. It's been a week since she caught her girlfriend, and although the pain's still as sharp and intense as ever, Andy has been trying her hardest to move on. Obviously she's not doing a good job of it so far. Letting out a shuddering breath, Andrea slides her laptop into its case, and slings the bag over her shoulder. She pauses to turn out the light before she exits the building, and takes special care in locking up the building. There was a break-in a couple months ago, and ever since, the whole workplace has doubled their efforts to keep the place safe. Andy told Miranda about it one night after they had sex, but doubted that her lover had even heard her judging by the soft snores that had come from the older woman.

Sighing, she turns away from her work place and yelps as her heel gets caught in the sliver of space between the cracks of the pavement. Flailing helplessly, Andrea lets out another pathetic cry as she starts feeling herself falling backwards. Closing her eyes, she waits for the inevitable pain of the hard cement, and is surprised when she meets strong arms instead.

"You alright?"

Andy blinks and looks up into the greenest eyes she had ever seen. They were beautiful. "Um, yeah. Thanks," she coughs and pushes against the strangers arms to stand on her own. She still has her wits about her-she is a young woman alone in New York at night. This handsome stranger may turn out to be a killer or worse. Straightening herself up, Andy's breath is stolen when she looks at the man fully. He's about 6'1, about 5 inches taller than herself, and has a nice masculine figure. Shaking her head a little, she forces herself to take a step away from him.

"Thank you," she says and turns to leave, intent on running away before he could try anything.

"Hey, wait!" the man has a deep, friendly voice, and despite the rational voice inside her head telling her to get the hell out of there, Andy stops and faces him again. "Max Harrison," he holds his hand out with a sparkling smile.

"Harrison? As in, Harrison Media Holdings?" Andy squeaks.

"Guilty," Max chuckles and a blond lock of hair falls into his eyes.

Andy lets out a big breath. Max is like the male version of Miranda-successful, handsome, and wealthy. She offers a polite smile and says, "It was nice to meet you. Thank you for catching me, but I really must be going now."

"Let me walk you home," Max's green eyes sparkle. "It's not safe for such a beautiful young woman to be out roaming the streets in the dark."

Andy thinks for a bit, and then hesitantly nods her acquiesce. This man is the owner of a multi-billion dollar company...surely he won't try anything? Her fingers close around the pepper spray in her bag, and she grips it tightly as she falls into step next to the mogul. They walk in silence for a while, and Andy tries her damnedest to not inhale the delicious scent of Ralph Lauren cologne emanating from the man next to her. It's been a long time since she has smelled anything but perfume, and the masculine scent soothes her.

"So, do you work there?" Max breaks the silence.

"Yes, I'm a journalist," Andy responds and shifts her laptop bag higher on her shoulder. "Just finished writing a piece about the school budgets, actually."

"Really? You know, my mother donates a lot of money into the New York school system. I'd like to know, does it actually help?"

"Well..."

Andy relaxes as they continue chatting about her article. She finds Max to incredibly charming and easy to talk to. Her grip on the pepper spray lessens as she calms, and she manages a small laugh at one of his jokes. All too soon, they stop in front of her apartment building, and Andy turns to look up at him. Catching her breath when she sees his face in the moonlight, she offers a smile and her fingers nervously play with the strap on her laptop bag.

"You still haven't told me your name," Max boldly reaches out and brushes a brown lock of hair away from her face, his finger gently tracing its length down her cheek.

Andy's heart almost breaks again at the soft contact. Her eyes well up and she sniffs pathetically before looking away.

"I'm sorry," Max panics and snatches his hand away.

"Don't be," Andrea reaches up and wipes away the tears. "I just got out of a complicated relationship. Your touch reminded me of how she-" She breaks off, her face flushed.

"She?" his forehead wrinkles.

Andy doesn't say anything.

"Well I'm sorry it didn't work out," Max says sympathetically.

Andrea gives him a half-smile. "Thanks," she whispers.

"Good night," he tilts his head in her direction and then shoves his hands in his pockets before walking away.

Andrea watches him go before she drags herself upstairs and collapses on her bed, dissolving into tears.


The call comes unexpectedly the next day when she's at work. Andy doesn't even look at the caller ID before she picks it up.

"Andy Sachs," she says, shuffling some papers around on her desk.

"Ah, finally I have a name for the mystery woman," Max's voice carries through the small receiver, and Andy can't deny the small flutter in her chest.

"Hello Max," Andrea shifts the phone to the other ear, propping it up with her elbow as she staples papers together. "Thank you again for being such a gentleman last night and escorting me home."

"What can I say? My mother raised me right," Max chuckles. "Speaking of, she loved your article."

"She read it?" Andrea's mouth drops slightly. One of the most powerful women in the world had read her article.

"She loved it!" he exclaimed. "She says to tell you 'thank you'. She's glad to know what exactly some of the schools are doing with her charitable donations."

"I'm glad," Andy swivels her chair around.

"I was wondering..." Max clears his throat. "Would you care to go to a yacht party with me? We can go as friends, since I know that you don't, er, like men."

"I'm bisexual," Andy says bluntly and hides her smile at the embarrassed sound Max makes.

"My apologies Andy," he clears his throat. "Anyways, would you care to join me?"

"I would love to," Andrea says with a smile on her face.

He tells her the details, tells her not to worry what she wears, and then hangs up. Andrea can't help the smile that stretches across her lips after she ends their conversation. She needs to get over Miranda, and perhaps this party will do just the trick.


Andy and Max have gone on a couple dates before the big party-nothing too superfluous, but it's enough to help them move to the kissing stage so when they attend the event, they won't be awkward around each other. Andrea hums to herself as she picks out a deep purple Dolce and Gabbana frock that falls just knee-length. After slipping it over her head, she adjusts it so it fits her size 4 frame perfectly and slides into 4-inch Jimmy Choos. She takes special care with her makeup, not wanting it to look too heavy nor too light. Some bracelets adorn her slender wrists, and one last brush of her long hair completes the ensemble. Andrea tries to ignore the lingering sadness in her dark eyes as she takes one last look in the mirror, and forces herself to perk up. She's dating the most eligible bachelor in New York. A handsome, sweet, intelligent multibillionaire. What's not to like? Andrea forces all thoughts of her out of her mind and sweeps out of her apartment with her clutch gripped tightly in her hand.

Max is waiting at the curb for her with a white rose in his hand, and offers it to her with a charming smile. Andy accepts it and turns her cheek so he can give her a sweet kiss. They climb into the limo, and settle back with a small sigh. Their fingers intertwine, and Andy stares at Max, trying to commit his look in her mind. She's trying to replace the images that haunt her dreams: the silver forelock of hair that falls into crystal blue eyes, the somehow perfectly imperfect nose, and the small oval-shaped mouth. Instead, she concentrates on Max's bright green eyes, his blond hair that's neatly combed, and the thin lips that fit not-so perfectly against her own. Max smiles at her, and despite herself, Andy feels weak at the knees. He has a killer smile.

"You alright Andrea?" he husks.

"Yes, I'm fine," Andrea gives him what she hopes is a convincing smile and squeezes his hand tightly.

"Good," he lifts her hand up to his lips and presses a kiss to the back. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you," Andrea smiles, and ignores the fact that her stomach doesn't flutter when he says those words.

They drive to the party in silence, neither of them really minding. It's not tense, just quiet. When they arrive, paparazzi bombards them, and Max-ever the gentleman-protects Andy as best as he can as they exit the car. He wraps his arm around her waist and shields the bright lights with his arm held out in front of the both of them.

"I didn't think it was going to be this bad," he murmurs in Andy's ear. "Usually we only allow the more refined press to come to our events. I don't understand why there's this circus here."

She leans into his solid build and allows him to guide her onto the yacht. Once they're aboard, the paparazzi can't follow them, and the flashes get less intense. Andy smiles weakly to Max, and he presses a kiss to her forehead.

"Alright there?"

"Yes," Andrea tilts her head up so he can press his lips against her own for a brief kiss.

"I'll go get us some drinks," Max squeezes her arm gently. "I'll be right back."

Andrea is left standing somewhat awkwardly by herself. Shrugging slightly, she walks around to the back of the boat where no photographers can snap photos of her, and leans against the guard railing. Staring down at the clear water, she closes her eyes and listens to the gentle lapping of the water against the yacht. A gentle breeze caresses her hair and she smiles. Inhaling deeply, she smells the crisp air, and the salty ocean, and the scent of Joy Jean Patou-Andy snaps her eyes open. There's no mistaking the fragrance.

"I thought you gave that to Caroline," she says, proud of herself when her voice comes out to be as strong as ever.

"Recent events have caused me to reconsider some of my decisions." The smooth voice that had invaded in on so many of Andy's nightmares and dreams cut through the air.

Sudden tears spring into Andy's eyes and she bows her head slightly to hide her face. The beautiful sound pierces deeply into Andrea's soul, sinking into her skin and curling itself around her heart. It hurts so badly, but there is also a small sliver of happiness in hearing the voice again after so long. Her eyes burn and the ocean blurs as she stares down at the water below. She doesn't know what to say.

"An-"

"Here we go Andy!"

Never in her life had Andrea been so relieved for an interruption. Andy was sure that she was going to say her name, and if 'Andrèa' slipped from those oval lips, Andy was sure she was going to pitch herself off the yacht in despair. She turns, careful not to look at anybody but Max. He rushes to her side and hands her a glass filled with something red. Perfect. She tries not to greedily inhale the drink, but she finishes the drink in three swallows. It burns as it slides down her throat, but a moment later, it gives her the courage she needs to face her. Andrea's eyes flicker to the side, and there she is in all her perfect glory. Miranda Priestly is certainly a sight for sore eyes. Her posture is immaculate, her hair is perfectly coiffed and her makeup highlighting her natural beauty. Andrea feels a part of her heart (or at least, what's left of it) break off as she stares at the woman. There is a tightness around her eyes, and irrationally, Andy wishes she could take it away. She squeezes her eyes shut and mentally berates herself. Pathetic.

"Miranda Priestly," Max's tone is surprised. "I didn't know you were going to be attending this party."

"I sent my RSVP quite late," Miranda's tone is smooth, and Andrea's heart thumps. "I just decided I was going."

"Ah, well it's lovely to see you and I'm glad that you decided to come," Max holds out his hand. Miranda takes it quickly and gives a small but firm handshake before dropping her hand away. Max wraps his arms around Andy's waist and beams at Miranda. "Meet my new girlfriend, Andrea Sachs."

Blue eyes narrow, and Andy feels like sinking through the boat and into the sea. "Um, hi Miranda," she squeaks. Clearing her throat, she says more firmly, "Max, I worked for Miranda a while ago." Nothing about the relationship they had. Nothing about Miranda's infidelity. Andrea straightens her back and stares Miranda in the eyes.

Miranda seems taken aback. She doesn't respond to what Andy said-instead, she looks into brown eyes and almost hungrily devours the sight. Andy notices how Miranda's eyes flicker back and forth, and how they peer deeply into her own. The mask drops, and Andrea is hit with a gaze full of longing, sadness, and...love. But just as soon as the mask dropped, it was placed firmly back up, leaving a cool look behind. Miranda inclines her head slightly towards them, and then says, "It was a pleasure. Excuse me." She leaves quickly, before Andy can say anything else.

"Not the most friendly woman around," Max mutters.

Andy ignores him, her mind and heart racing a mile a minute. Why was Miranda there? What did that gaze mean? Why and where did Miranda disappear so quickly to? The brunette turns to Max and lets out a deep breath, for she knows that this cannot last between them.

"Max, I-"

"Max!" An elderly man comes sauntering up towards them, his hand outstretched.

"Mr. Greenberg!" Max clasps his hand tightly and gives him a bright smile. "May I introduce my new girlfriend, Andrea Sachs."

Andy fakes a smile and shakes his hand politely. She inserts a few witty comments here and there in the conversation that takes place between the two men, but her mind is focused on the white-haired Editor. She hasn't forgiven Miranda-not by a long shot-but she still aches for the woman. Andrea wants to scream. It's not fair-Miranda is the one that trampled all over her heart. She broke the trust between them, and yet Andrea, who is tired and heartbroken, is the one left still yearning. Tears begin to formulate again, and she furiously blinks them back, glad she wore waterproof mascara. Mr. Greenberg asks her a question, and by some small miracle, she is able to answer it thoughtfully and precisely. Andrea sighs quietly. She knows she will never be an equal to Miranda-she will never mean anything to the powerful woman, and that thought makes her heart shatter. Politely excusing herself, she ignores the worried look on her boyfriend's face and stumbles towards the yacht's bathroom. Once inside, she lets the tears flow. It's not fair. She doesn't know how long she stands there, silently shaking with tears streaming down her cheeks, but she thanks whomever is listening that nobody walks in on her. There's a lock, but she hadn't bothered with it, too consumed in her grief. Looking up in the mirror, she gasps at the sight of herself. The black mascara and eyeliner she had applied so carefully earlier was now a mess around her brown eyes, giving her the raccoon look. She looks pathetic. Andrea almost bursts into tears again before she reins it in. Get a grip. You're a fully grown woman. She pulls some tissues out of the box on the counter, and mops at the sorry mess.

The door swings open and Miranda walks in. Her face is withdrawn, obviously unprotected without her ice mask. She walks over to Andy, who stands frozen with a wad of blackened kleenex in her hand. Miranda reaches out and hesitates. Then, making up her mind, she gently pries the tissues out of Andrea's hand and starts to softly dab at her eyes.

"I saw you rush in here," Miranda says, her voice rough. "I paced outside the door for ten minutes debating whether or not to come in. I was a coward."

Andy looks at her in amazement.

"Your sobs broke me," Miranda's hand stills. "I couldn't leave you. The sound tore through me Andr-"

"Stop," Andy says harshly in a broken, but strong voice. "Don't say my name."

Miranda drops the tissue and gently cups Andrea's smooth cheek. Brown eyes fill with more tears and despite herself, she nuzzles into the hand. Miranda's own eyes mist over and with trembling fingers, she raises her other hand to cup Andrea's other cheek. Staring into her eyes, Miranda says softly, "I'm so sorry Andrèa."

The dams break. Andrea starts sobbing again, and this time, Miranda is there to catch her. Andrea's slightly taller than Miranda, but it doesn't make the embrace awkward. Andy just tucks her face into Miranda's neck and inhales the Joy Jean Patou scent, all the while trying to calm her breathing. Her tears slide down the Editor's neck, and she can feel hot tears that are not her own sliding down her forehead. Strong arms are there to cradle her, and Andrea can feel the message Miranda is trying to send. I'm sorry. Please don't leave me. I'm so sorry. After another long bout of crying, Andrea finally looks up. Miranda's eyes are puffy and red, and Andrea can feel the sorrow and hurt radiating off the other woman.

"I'm still angry with you," Andrea says. "You hurt me in the worst way possible." She pulls away and pain flashes across Miranda's face.

"If I could undo that I hurt you, I would anything for us to make it through," Miranda says sadly, gazing into Andrea's eyes. "I'm quitting Runway."

Andy gasps.

"It's taken too much away from me. What does it say about me that I chose to cheat on the love of my life to keep Runway under my firm hand?" Miranda looks away. "I'm ashamed. I feel so much guilt and regret-I will never forgive myself for hurting you. I l-love you Andrea. You are everything to me." She wraps her arms around herself and looks down.

Andrea watches her quietly. Silently weighing her options, she chooses at that moment to forgive the woman she loves. Yes Miranda had cheated on her, and made her seem that she meant nothing, but Andrea has learned that you must fight for the people you love. She must fight for her soul mate. She must forgive for them to move forward. Andrea walks over to the distraught woman and tilts her chin up so their eyes meet.

"Miranda, I forgive you," Andrea's eyes turn soft. "It's in the past. We can't take back what has happened."

Miranda's eyes fill with tears again. "Andrea, I-I-"

"I love you Miranda," Andrea leans in and brushes her lips against the ones that fit so perfectly against her own. "I'm willing to move on from this."

Miranda looks at her with round, wet eyes, and then buries her face in Andrea's neck. "You have saved me tonight Andrea. I was a blank page waiting for you."

Andrea tilts Miranda's face back up and captures thin lips with her own, marveling at how right it feels. She deepens the kiss, letting her tongue come into play. Her arms wrap around Miranda's lower back and neck, supporting her and drawing strength from their embrace. They lose themselves in their kiss, and while each woman still felt a weight on their shoulders, their hearts felt lighter than they had in months.


It takes about a year for things to go back to relatively normal. Andrea had worried about telling Max that she had essentially used him for her own selfish reasons, but had quickly found out that she needn't have worried. She had caught the mogul in a compromising position with a young leggy blonde once she had sought him out on the yacht. He had tried to apologize, but Andy had long since gone. She had more important things to worry about.

Andrea's and Miranda's relationship had grown stronger with each passing day they spent in each other's presence. It had been a rocky start though, with Andrea's lack of trust, and Miranda's overbearing displays of love. Despite Andrea's forgiveness and reassurance that she wouldn't leave again, Miranda, terrified that that very thing would happen, tried to do everything in her power to show her regret and her love. It was almost oppressive, and Andrea found herself shying away. Little by little however, Miranda's fear that she would drive the brunette away again receded slowly, and Andrea had learned to open herself back up to Miranda. Andy had moved back into the townhouse after 4 months of re-dating Miranda, much to the delight of Cassidy and Caroline. Miranda, of course, was the happiest of the three of them.

Miranda had quit Runway, but stipulated that Emily be given Runway-not Jacqueline. It had been a smooth process, and the press went crazy when they learned that the fashion guru had gracefully bowed out. She never saw the French woman again, and Miranda never regretted her decision. And now, as she climbs into bed next to her sleeping lover, Miranda marvels at the beauty and the heart that her young love possesses. She slips the black box that she has been carrying around all week under her pillow, intending to surprise her in the morning with the simple yet elegant ring, and then spoons herself around Andrea. Her body immediately relaxes, and she draws the young woman in closer. She presses a kiss to Andrea's forehead and nuzzles against her neck. Their hearts stop, and then beat as one together. Forever.