Disclaimer: Miranda Priestly and Andrea 'Andy' Sachs are the property of Twentieth Century Fox and Lauren Weisberger, and I am just borrowing them and taking them for a spin. No copyright infringement intended.
Pairing: Miranda/Andy (MirAndy)
Rating: A/U Alternate Universe. PG—NC-17 depending on chapter.
Summary: Miranda Priestly is a resistance leader in the Danish countryside during WW2 with Andrea Sachs as her aide-de-camp. Every new assignment means putting their lives on the line, but other events forcing them closer together on a personal level prove to be just as lethal - to their hearts.
Dark Horizon
By Gun Brooke
MirAndy A/U Fan Fiction
-~o0o~-
Part Four
Andrea closed the bag around the clothes Miranda had insisted she'd keep. Having been imported from France and London before the war, they were of the finest materials, and classic models that would sustain through time, Miranda had explained, as if she was trying to persuade a customer rather than an employee.
"I will miss having you around for company at breakfast, Andy," Rakel said from the doorway. She had not with a single word expressed any curiosity or concern why Andy had spent three nights in a row in Miranda's bed. The third night had certainly not been called for, and Miranda's mumbled reason that they might as well save her housekeeper and cook from washing any extra bed sheets had been ridiculous. Still, Andy hadn't argued. She knew she would never get another chance to be this close to Miranda again, so why waste it?
Andy had hardly slept at all, afraid to miss out on the last opportunity to inhale Miranda's scent, to her the soft breathing, and during a few, breathtaking moments when Miranda had placed an arm around Andy's waist, or a hand on her hip. Logically, Andy knew that Miranda had no idea who she was touching, or that she was touching anybody at all, but for a precious moment, she could pretend. Soon enough Andy would be back in her grandmother's old cottage where the fire stove was moody at best, and she had to keep six buckets and four pans ready in case it rained.
Andy knew she would keep the memories of practically sleeping in Miranda's arms with her, cherish them, and no doubt compare everyone else to the formidable woman. Naturally there could be no comparison. Miranda was unique.
"'Bye Rakel, and thanks again." Andy kissed Rakel's cheek. "You've been wonderful and very patient."
"You be careful now, Andy." Rakel pushed a tress of Andy's hair behind her ear. "There are evil people out there, ready to do harm. It's already bad, but it will get worse."
"I know, Rakel. I know." Andy impulsively hugged the other woman. "I hope I see you soon."
"I do too."
Andy took the elevator down to the floor hosting the office part of the department store. The office consisted of Miranda's large corner office, the assistant's desk area, a room for two typists, and a small switchboard. Andy was going back to work the next day, but felt she needed to tell Miranda she was going home and to thank her.
Emily was at the assistant's desk and now she actually smiled politely. It actually looked more like an eerie grimace that didn't reach her eyes. Emily was an ambitious young woman who made no secret of the fact that she considered herself to be Miranda's crown princess. It had to eat her alive from the inside that Andy had spent time in Miranda's private apartment. Very few of the employees had ever seen the inside of the luxurious rooms. "You seem to be recuperating. No doubt the tender loving care of Miranda's cook has helped to heal you." Emily shook her head, clearly faking a pitying look. "Were you here to see Miranda? She's very busy—"
"Is that Andrea?" Miranda's low voice carried easily out to her assistant. "Send her in, Emily."
"Yes, Miranda." Her eyes cold now, without pretense, Emily motioned for Andy to follow Miranda's request.
Andy smiled sweetly and thanked Emily before entering Miranda's office. She had been inside several times, but never really taken the time, or allowed herself to relax enough, to notice any details. Miranda sat behind an oak desk, working on some documents. Behind her, cabinets, also oak, covered the entire wall, and to Miranda's right, windows held a view of the main street and the town square. Today was a farmers' market occupied the square and that meant the town being crowded with people. Andy thought that was a good thing, it would make her moving along the streets and back to her cottage less conspicuous. Especially if she bought some bread and vegetables and let it hang from the bicycle basket— "Oh, damn," Andy blurted out, realizing that her bike was totally destroyed.
"I beg your pardon?" Miranda looked up, her left eyebrow raised.
"I'm sorry. I just remembered that my bike was reduced to metal scrap. I will just have to walk home." Andy shrugged. "What can I do for your, Miranda?"
"What do you mean?" Miranda folded her arms, glaring at Andy.
"Eh…what I mean? I mean, I mean to say thank you for having me as your guest while I recuperated."
"You are nowhere near recuperated." Miranda stood up. "What's to say you don't have another dizzy-spell and fall down before you're home?"
Stunned at force behind Miranda's words, and the way she pressed her lips together, Andy didn't know what to say. Surely Miranda would be glad to have her apartment to herself and not have to cater to an employee? "I'm fine. I wouldn't want to outstay my welcome," Andy said weakly, trying to smile. She was fairly sure it only amounted to half a grimace.
"And walk home?" Miranda spoke as if Andy hadn't said anything. "I've never heard such a ridiculous thing. How far is it to your—your shed?"
"I don't live in a shed!" Slowly getting angry, Andy clenched her hands into fists. "I live just outside of Stavnsdal, and before I could afford a bicycle, I walked to work every day, no matter the season. Today is a lovely day, and I'll walk home and start saving up for another bike. I will be in to work tomorrow as usual."
"You will not." Miranda's voice was low. Deadly.
"What?" Andy knew it. Her temper had finally gotten her fired. Great. No doubt she would find herself removed from their resistance cell, perhaps kicked out completely. Her mind whirled and the burning sensation behind her eyelids seemed to have a direct connection to her throat that began to convulse as she tried to swallow the threatening tears.
"Tomorrow is Friday. I do not wish to see you back at work until Monday at the earliest."
Oh, thank God. "All right. See you then." Andy looked longingly at the door. "Thanks again, for everything."
"Stay away from the Germans." Miranda grabbed her fountain pen. "That's all."
Andy would never have admitted it to anyone, least of all herself, but she virtually fled from the department store and Miranda's apartment. Had she stayed a minute longer, she would have begged Miranda to stay one more day, which would have meant one more night surrounded by her scent, and, oh bliss, perhaps her arms. As much as Andy would have loved it, very little scared her more.
-~o0o~-
The small cottage had one thing going for it, if nothing else, Andy thought as she put more firewood in the stove. It heated fairly quickly. She hated the outhouse. Having had access to modern facilities at Nordia, Andy was disgusted with the freezing cold winters and the flies it gathered in the summer.
Andy wrapped herself up in the heavy wool blanket and curled up on the narrow bed in the corner. A small table with two chairs and a worn armchair in the opposite corner made up the rest of her furniture. Andy knew it was fruitless to envision Miranda's lovely rooms, her bathtub with endless amounts of hot water. No fairy godmother would swoop down from a cloud and magically turn the nearly condemned cottage into a palace. Being honest, Andy knew it wasn't Miranda's apartment she kept thinking about. It was its owner.
Miranda Priestly had employed Andy not because she was the most brilliant saleswoman she'd ever come across, or for her sense of style or fashion. Instead, Andy guessed, Miranda had seen a hunger in Andy to go somewhere, to get ahead and rise above her background. Once when Emily had said something snotty about Andy to Miranda, Andy heard her boss actually mention what she described as "Andrea's fighting spirit." It effectively shut Emily up at least.
Andy didn't know any other way to exist these days. She didn't have this 'gung-ho' disposition in her from the beginning. Andy had early memories of her mother, a sweet-natured woman with ash-blond hair who often sung to her. Her father had died before she was born, and her mother passed away when Andy was five. Growing up with Aunt Thilde, her mother's great aunt, in the cottage, she had inherited the old house when Thilde died over four years ago, when Andy was twenty. That's when she started to change. Before, Andy had been as sweet and trusting as her mother, but when she found herself alone with only herself to rely on; she knew she had to toughen up. "Toughen up and learn to use a shotgun." Andy snorted and buried the cold tip of her nose in the blanket. One of her friends from school, a nice boy called Jens who'd always had a bit of a crush on Andy, taught her how to use the shotgun. They had practiced at his parent's farm behind the barn, aiming at old tin cans. When the Germans marched into Denmark, Andy knew that a shotgun would not be enough. As soon she heard of the resistance movement through Jens, she joined. Now she owned two handguns and next to the disgusting barrel under the outhouse, a small storage space for additional ammunition and explosives. "No wonder I hate using that place," Andy muttered and turned up the kerosene lamp. She didn't like the darkness. "One of these days, I'm going to blow myself to kingdom come when I pee."
Andy had worked at Nordia for six months before she went on her first major sabotage mission with Jens and four other resistance fighters. The person behind the plan, who briefed them in the basement of an abandoned structure in the outskirts of Stavnsdal, was none other than the stylish and wealthy Miranda Priestly. She had of course known about Andy belonging to one of her cells beforehand, and the lopsided smirk revealed that she quite enjoyed Andy's shocked gasp. The mission had been a success, and it didn't take long for a pattern to evolve when Andy became the voice between Miranda and the group. Now, some eighteen months after joining the resistance, Andy had become Miranda's unofficial second-in-command, which should have been enough explanation why Miranda wanted to make sure Andy was okay after her accident.
But it wasn't. Andy knew she'd be lying to herself if she pretended that something entirely new, and deeply personal, hadn't transpired between them the last three days—and nights. Miranda had acted out of character, more so than Andy. For Andy to hero-worship Miranda was not such a stretch, but for Miranda to hover over Andy, to fabricate reasons for Andy to stay an extra night in her bed—it was mind-blowing. Andy shivered and snuggled further into her favorite, well, her only blanket. Several times, Andy had woken up with Miranda's arm around her, and at least twice Andy had found her own arm tucked around Miranda. Once, Andy had laced her fingers into Miranda's soft hair. Never had Andy been so relieved when she saw that Miranda slept soundly. She slid her fingers free, with equal parts gratitude and longing. Miranda's hair was so silky and rich. Feeling it against her palm and fingertips had made Andy's stomach clench and her fingertips tingle.
Andy had now spent two whole days merely resting and reading in the light of her only lamp. It was Saturday night and she knew some of her friends from work went to the dances arranged by the church youth club. Normally Andy would tag along, but even if she felt all right again, she was still a tired. She hoped that after yet another day of rest, and perhaps a nice Sunday walk over the meadows, she would be fit to go back—and to face Miranda again—on Monday.
Reaching for another library book, this time an old favorite, one she'd borrowed so many time that the librarian had begun to gently tease her, Andy read the first two chapters of Sigrid Undset's 'Kristin Lavransdotter', before she was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door.
Andy glanced at the old clock on the wall. It was eight in the evening on a Saturday. Could it be her friends who wanted her to go dancing after all? She doubted it. Another knock, this time harder, catapulted Andy out of the warm blanket. She reached under her pillow for her Luger, quietly cocking the handgun as she walked over to the door.
"Who is it?" Andy stood to the right of the door that opened outward. In case someone would fire through the door, they wouldn't readily hit her.
"It's Miranda. I have Rakel with me." The soft voice sounded unusually strained.
Cautiously, Andy unlocked the door and opened it. She hid the Luger behind her back. "Miranda? Rakel. What's going on?"
Suddenly it seemed as if the cottage was filled to the brim with people. It wasn't just Miranda and Rakel. Miranda also ushered three young children and a woman looking slightly older than Andy inside. "This is Rakel's daughter and her three grandchildren," Miranda said. She pulled the door close and locked it. "Children. Sit down over there and be quiet," she commanded. The boy and the two girls quickly did as they were told, their eyes huge. The youngest girl had tears in her eyes and clung to the boy who looked to be around ten.
"What's happened? Rakel, are you all right?"
"They are rounding people up. We need to get them out. Now," Miranda said, her lips pale.
"They? The Germans?" Furtively tucking her gun into the waistband of her skirt, Andy tried to wrap her brain around the information. She had heard rumors what went on in other occupied countries.
"Of course the Germans!" Miranda moved over to the window and carefully lifted the corner of the thick black fabric. "You have any coffee?"
"Uhm. Coffee. Well, not real coffee, naturally."
"I realize that." Impatient, Miranda sighed loudly. "Any hot beverage will do."
"All right. Hot beverages coming up." Andy shook her head to clear the foggy feeling. Turning to the children, she smiled and winked. "For you, I think I can do better than coffee. I can do hot chocolate."
The youngest girl's eyes lit up and she pushed herself free from her brother's arms. "I like chocolate."
"Well, do you think you can give me a hand if your mom think's it's all right?" Andy looked over at the girl's mother who nodded.
"I will help you as well," Rakel's daughter said. "I apologize for barging in like this. My name is Hanna. This is Benny, Sara, and My."
"My real name is Miriam, by everybody calls me My," the youngest girl said and looked up at Andy with a broad smile. "Grandma says we're going on an adventure."
"Adventure, eh? Well, then you're definitely in need of my hot chocolate. It has a secret ingredient."
"A secret ingredient?" My's eyes widened. "Oh, please tell us."
"Hm." Andy eyed the three siblings carefully as she busied herself by the small fire stove. "I could tell you, I suppose. I've never disclosed this information since it's been handed down one generation at a time."
"We won't tell." My looked sternly at her siblings. "Will we?"
"No. We'll keep the secret." Even Benny looked intrigued and came to stand next to his little sister.
"All right." Andy reached for a small jar on the shelf above the stove. "Look. Just a pinch of this, and the chocolate will taste better than any other chocolate you've ever tried."
"Better than grandma's?" Sara said. "What is it?"
"Come here," Andy said, making a big production of whispering to the children. "It's actually white pepper."
"Pepp—Ow!" Sarah said as My pinched her.
"It's a secret," My said pointedly.
"No pinching," Hanna said calmly as she measured up the chicory substitute.
Andy kept an eye on the water she set to boil on the stove, but most of her attention was directed toward Miranda who kept glancing out the window. Eventually she seemed to relax marginally and walked over to Andy, who now poured hot chocolate into her aunt's best cups.
"Bjarne is on his way with some a few more families. We need to get them to a safe-house just outside Hals. We have to gather all the people the Germans target and ship them over to Sweden."
"Ship them? As in…on fishing boats?"
"Exactly. Fishing boats, yachts, sailboats…God damn rowboats if we have to." Miranda spoke through clenched teeth. "Is that coffee?" she suddenly asked Hanna who was pouring a cup for Rakel."
"Yes, Ms. Priestly."
"Call me Miranda, please." Miranda greedily clung to the hot cup. Sipping it, she winced a little, but still seemed to enjoy it. "And the kids are having hot chocolate, I see?"
"Not just that, Miranda," young My said proudly. "It's a secret hot chocolate. Everything we do tonight must be a secret."
"Ms. Miranda didn't mean for you to call her by her first name," Rakel quietly admonished the child.
"It's fine. Don't worry." Miranda waved a hand dismissively. "I prefer my given name."
"It's a pretty name," Sarah said. "What does it mean?"
"I honestly don't know," Miranda said.
"It means 'wonderful' and 'admirable'." Andy spoke without thinking. The sudden silence made her aware that knowing what Miranda's name stood for, was perhaps a bit above and beyond the call of duty at Nordia.
"Thank you, Andrea," Miranda said, her voice husky as she clearly tried to make light of the moment.
Andrea's cheeks burned, and she unconvincingly tried to tell herself it was for standing so close to the stove.
After a few moments, they all had something hot to drink and everybody found somewhere to sit in the tiny house, except Miranda who remained by the window, checking through a tiny gap next to the curtain every now and then.
"This is a cozy cottage," Rakel said. "Thank you for helping us, Andy."
"I wouldn't call it cozy, exactly." Andy shrugged. "I've had to reinforce the south wall twice this summer. I don't know if it'll last through the winter. If we have as much snow as last winter, I think the roof might just cave in."
"Where will you go?" Hanna asked, frowning.
"She can come with us," Benny suggested, smiling broadly. "Andy should come with us and make us secret chocolate every day."
Andy laughed when she saw his smug face. His sisters beamed, obviously siding with their brother. Glancing over at Miranda, Andy winced at the solemn look in her eyes. Narrow slits, she glared at Andy as if she was the one thinking about leaving. Didn't Miranda understand that Andy had no plans on going anywhere?
Suddenly the sound of an engine filtered through the wall. Miranda leaned over the table and turned down the kerosene lamp almost completely. She opened the door, and in the faint light, Andy saw the outline of a handgun in Miranda's hand. Ready to pull out her own, Andy glanced over Miranda's shoulder. "Is it Bjarne?"
"Yes. He's brought Bente as well. Stay here. I'll be right back." Miranda slipped out the door.
"Where are we going now?" Sara asked, her voice trembling. She held My close with one arm and clung to her mother with the other.
"We're going to help you, Sara." Andy ruffled the girl's shiny, brown bangs. "You'll be together with your mom and your grandma. And your brother and sister."
"B-but I want to go home."
"That's not possible right now." Andy ached for the confused child. "Once it's safe, you'll come back."
Sara looked like she doubted Andy's words, but she nodded and pressed her trembling body closer to her mother's.
Miranda came back inside, now with the weapon tucked away. "All is well. Their truck has plenty of space, so Andrea and I will go with."
Andy knew what this meant. This was a risky transport, and if they ran into trouble with the Germans, they needed the firepower of four resistance fighters, rather than two. Andy also knew that having Miranda with them and access on her ability to think on her feet would increase their chance of success.
"I'll help Bjarne get them as comfortable as possible while you change. Dress warm." Miranda ushered the children outside.
"We better hurry." Rakel finished her coffee, and took a deep breath as she rose from the chair. "We're risking everybody."
"I'll be right there." Andy placed her gun on the kitchen table and pushed the skirt off. Donning a black coverall, she pulled her hair into a bun at the nape of her neck and hid it with a men's cap. Black rubber boots completed her not-so-stylish outfit. Andy tucked her Luger and extra ammunition in her big pockets. Going outside, she left the cottage unlocked, which was the custom on the countryside.
Bjarne and Benny had brought two more Jewish families in the back of the large truck. Running on wood gas, it noisy and clumsy, but it would get the families to the safe-house.
"Bente will ride in the back with the families and you will sit up front with me. Bjarne is used to driving this monster, but he'll need us to help. He can't turn on the headlights, no matter what."
"I understand." Andy made sure the tarp was tied properly and then climbed into the front of the truck. Miranda sat in the middle, which didn't leave much space for Andy to squeeze in to.
"You sure, Miranda?" Andy asked, hesitating. "It'll be awfully crowded." Andy doubted Miranda would like it if she ended up on her lap."
"Just sit down. We'll manage." Miranda sounded peeved, and Andy obeyed reluctantly.
It was pure bliss and complete agony to sit pressed up against Miranda Priestly. Even dressed in a coverall and a wool coat, Miranda smelled wonderfully, and Andy inhaled greedily. She wanted to lean her head on Miranda's shoulder, but instead she sat ramrod straight and looked out the windscreen.
The small gravel roads were bumpy and sometimes muddy and Andy had to brace herself and hold on to the door handle to not slam into Miranda. Her sore elbow and her knees ached, but she was determined not to let it show. With any other leader, she might have tried to opt out of this mission, but with Miranda there, it was not an option.
It took them almost two hours, since they had to drive so slow and take the less traveled routes, but eventually Bjarne gave a tired smile and motioned ahead. Andy looked out the windscreen, but saw only darkness. Eventually she could make out the outlines of several structures.
"We're here." Bjarne sighed. "That went fairly well."
"Yes. Let's get everybody sorted." Miranda nudged at Andy who dreaded climbing out of the truck.
"Hold on to me," Miranda whispered. She took both of Andy's hands in hers. "Just ease down and try not to reinjure yourself. All right?"
"Yes. I mean no. I mean yes."
Miranda snorted. "I think your concussion is back, Andrea."
Andy merely slid down from the seat and out the door. Outside, Bente was helping the families out from under the tarp. Most of them were huddling together under blankets, in the cold autumn air. Rakel stood with Sara and My, their faces pale in the faint moonlight. Hanna and Benny remained on either side of her, warming their hands under the blanket.
A door opened behind Andy and she turned around, half expecting a myriad of German soldiers pouring out of the low farmhouse. Instead, a compact man hurried toward them, carrying a shielded flashlight.
"This way. This way." He waved for them to follow him to a house tucked in behind the barn, not visible from the main road. From the outside, it looked twice as run down as Andy's cottage, but it was clearly maintained because inside it was warm and clean.
"Welcome," a woman in her sixties said, smiling as she greeted them. "My name's Lotte, and this man-of-few-words is my husband Svend." She directed Rakel, Hanna, and the children to a room in the far back. Andy went with them to make sure they'd be comfortable. The room had three beds, which meant they'd be crowded, but at least they were safe for now.
"Oh, God." Rakel drew a deep, trembling breath.
"Rakel, I'm sorry this is happening to you." Andy placed a hand on Rakel's shoulder.
"Andy, I don't worry about myself." Turning, Rakel's stony expression was only skin deep. "I just want to make sure Hanna and the children are safe." She put her hand above Andy's, squeezing hard. "Promise me. No matter what happens to me, get them to safety."
"We will get you all to safety." Andy swallowed past the lump in her throat. "Take the time to rest and we'll be back to get you across to Sweden as soon as it's arranged. Miranda has the connections to make it happen. You know she does."
"I trust Ms. Miranda." Rakel relaxed a little and patted Andy's hand before letting go. "And also, Ms. Miranda has you, doesn't she?"
"Eh, yes, sure."
"She needs you. Now she needs you more than ever. Don't leave her." Rakel looked seriously at Andy, her dark eyes unwavering. "Ms. Miranda has let her guard down with you. I've never seen that happen. Ever. Stay with her."
Andy's heart thundered in her chest. "I—I promise."
"Come on, we have to leave. If the truck is spotted, this is all over." Bjarne called from the front door."
"I have to go. We'll be back to ship you out. Soon." Andy quickly kissed the children and said goodbye to Hanna and Rakel. As she hurried back to the truck, she was surprised to see Bente sitting up front in the passenger seat.
"In here, Andrea." Miranda called from the back of the truck. "We might as well try to get some rest and be comfortable. You must be sore."
Andy carefully climbed in the back. Bjarne closed the tarp and it was nearly impossible to see anything.
"Keep walking. There is a mattress back here. It seems reasonably clean." Miranda's cool voice guided Andy and soon she felt her foot hit something soft. She bent down and felt with her hands. Suddenly Miranda grabbed her by the waist and guided her to sit down. The truck hummed to life and Andy slumped back. Miranda's arm was still around her shoulders and somehow this seemed completely natural.
"Will we be able to save them, Miranda?"
"I'm in the process of contacting every single person within the resistance that has access to a boat. We'll ship as many as we can and it has to be done all at once. The German's won't expect us to pull it off in one big effort."
"Can that be done?" Andy was in awe at the daring plan.
"It has to. It's our only chance."
Andy nodded and leaned back at the ledge behind them. The bumpy road made it press uncomfortably into her back.
"This is damn uncomfortable," Miranda said. "Lie down, Andrea."
"Wh-what?"
"Lie down. I'm not going to sit against this torturous bar for hours." Miranda nudged at Andy to move.
Feeling again with her hands, Andy squinted and tried to see how the mattress was arranged. She curled up on her side and tried to leave enough space for Miranda to stretch out. The narrow mattress forced them close together and Andy lost her breath when she felt Miranda settle in behind her, flush along her back. Praying that Miranda wouldn't notice how she trembled, Andy forced herself to breathe evenly.
"Are you comfortable? Cold?"
Cold? Was Miranda kidding? Andy had never felt so hot, burning, scorching hot, in her life.
"You're shaking. It's only natural," Miranda said quietly, rubbing Andy's arm and shoulder. "We've been transporting people whose lives are in danger. Afterward, the adrenaline can cause a reaction."
"I…it's not that." Shut up, Andy. Just shut up. "I'm fine."
"All right." Miranda didn't sound convinced. To Andy's amazement, she slid her hand around Andy's abdomen and placed her hand on her stomach. "This is the only way to keep warm back here. Share the body heat."
Andy wondered if she was imagining things or did Miranda seem out of breath as well?
"I'm afraid for them, Miranda." Andy leaned her head back, in under Miranda's chin. "We'll save them, won't we?"
"Yes. We will." Miranda pushed her face against the back of Andy's neck, her breath hot against her skin. "Andrea…"
"Yes."
"Come home with me."
"To your apartment? To Nordia?"
"Yes. Rakel won't be there. I have plenty of space. You can have your own room."
"I…the cottage…"
"Is cute, but it won't survive the winter. You'll be killed when the roof caves in under the snow."
"Are you sure you want me to stay in your home?" Andy knew Miranda hated repetition, but this was important.
"I said so."
"If you change your mind—"
"I won't."
That was probably true. Miranda was decisive and once her mind was made up, she engaged her tunnel-vision and went for it. Andy wanted to ask why Miranda wanted her to stay at the apartment. She could have offered to help Andy find other accommodations after all. 'Ms. Miranda has let her guard down with you. She needs you.' Rakel's words echoed in Andy's mind.
"I'll come home with you. Let me just pack—"
"No. Come with me tonight. I'll send Roy over to pack up your things tomorrow. I don't want you there anymore." Miranda's voice sounded raw, naked.
Andy knew what her answer would be—had to be. "Yes, Miranda."
-~o0o~-
TBC
Back to part 3
