Disclaimer

All characters with the exception of original characters belong to the author of the original work, Lauren Weisberger. This is a work of fan-fiction, intended for non-commercial purposes.

Warning
Explicit and mature scenes ahead. Trigger alert too. Better safe than sorry.


Chapter 4 : Rest Stop

[Saturday, the next day after the end]

Andy's messy brown locks strewn across the pillow as she had one arm resting on her forehead. Sloppy sleeper. Even asleep, she radiated a gentleness and kindness that Emily secretly admired. Her thoughts were interrupted by a short silent buzz, signalling her message had received a reply. It's either that or some fucker messed up at the office.The message buzz followed by a continuous buzz. Grow some patience, Nigel!

Trained to answer calls by the second ring, Emily unplugged her phone and slid out of bed. She carefully padded barefoot out of the room, eyeing Andy who was fast asleep on the bed. When she reached the safety of the kitchen, she pressed on the screen to answer. "H-"

"Wanna explain to me why I received some cryptic message at a God-forsaken time on a Saturday? What happened, Emily?" Grumpy much?"Oh hello to you too, Nigel. I would fucking love to tell you, if you let me talk and shut up for a minute. Civilised people take turns." Obviously I want to tell you before we have brunch together later. I highly doubt we want Andy to be the one to tell you.

"Drop the attitude. I doubt you will make sense before I have my coffee. Use. Simple. Words. Stop it with the cryptic talk, Em." Nigel groaned, as Emily heard him shuffling about, the known sounds of utensils clinking and the coffee machine in the background. Fuck I could use some coffee too. Emily looked around the pristine kitchen, eyes twinkling with mischief at the expensive coffee machine in the corner.

"Miranda fucking Priestly happened. To Andy. She is ruining Andy. Ruined Andy. Damn her! That's the short version. Now that you have some context, your Highness. You can come over to Andy's apartment and I will tell you the rest before she wakes up. So that she doesn't have to repeat it out loud herself. Emily scoured the cupboards for some coffee beans. "Just get here before she wakes up, okay?" Emily ended the call before Nigel could reply. The more Nigel asked, the more she felt tempted to blurt everything out to him. I don't trust him not to call up Miranda immediately. He has to be here when I tell him. It's Andy AND Miranda, for God's sake.

As Emily sipped the piping hot coffee which was not even near centre-of-the-sun hot like a certain Editor's preference, she stared into the marble top of the kitchen island. I never thought I would want to hurt Miranda for cheating on Andy Sachs. The second assistant who took my place in Paris and could actually be considered my mortal enemy at one point. Now two years later, one of my best friends. Fucking Andy Sachs and her Midwestern charm.

"Emily, I'm really sorry about Paris. But I know you would love these clothes. You don't have to pretend in front of me," Andy said as she stumbled into Emily's bedroom, struggling with the amount of clothes she was carrying. She had asked for clothes in Emily's size and not her own when she was in Paris. That's the least I can do after taking her spot.

The redhead in question didn't say a word, except a small sniff and head tilt when Andy came back into the living room where she was, resting her leg cast on the arm rest of the sofa. Andy fucking Sachs, the resident girl scout.Andy was relentless in wanting Emily to be her friend. She could easily see past the heavy make-up and snobby British attitude. Of course, she sees the best in everyone. Including Miranda.

"So, how are you? Does your leg still hurt a lot?" Andy gave her bright smile. Just like the first day of school. Of course she would be the overly friendly girl. Emily would always have that smile in her memory and the warmth that radiated from the doe-eyed brunette. "I'm good. I don't mind the horrible cast as much anymore."

Andy's warm smile then turned into a cheeky grin when Emily continued her sentence with, "would you like some tea? I'll teach you the proper English way." The whole warm gooey disgusting charm of hers worked on you. It worked on Nigel too. Within the first few months of her being second assistant which isn't much of a record since Nigel is a softie. He is going to be beyond livid when I tell him. How do I say it? Bloody Hell!


Nigel Kipling afforded himself a few luxuries on Saturdays. Such as brunch with friends over mimosas and sleeping in before the aforementioned brunch. Especially the part where he gets to lay in bed and pretend that his body has not been conditioned to wake up at 5.30 am every morning. Thanks again Runway and thank you Miranda.

So when the phone buzzes and he is rudely "awakened", he gets grumpy. What makes it worse is cryptic messages that made him squint his eyes and groan. I am not in the mood to deal with your dramatics, Em.He can feel his blood pressure spiking when Emily hangs up on him like a certain Editor. Oh she may not hero-worship Miranda anymore but the antics still remain. God forbid.

He knocks at the door and the door swings ajar slightly by Emily, he pushes past her and welcomes himself into the apartment. Going directly to check the rooms in the apartment, he finds a certain sleeping brunette sprawled across the guest room bed. Safe and sound, Six.His expression softens as he notes the dark circles around her eyes, swollen and puffy. Late nights or crying? Or both?

When he walks through the hallway and into the living room area, Emily motions for him to go out onto the fire escape. Nigel rolls his eyes but concedes. Damnit, I don't really want to be grumpy at her! "She left work early yesterday when someone swapped with her," Emily was doing her best pacing on the pseudo balcony while Nigel looked at her with a confused expression.

"Okay…so I'm glad she got to leave early and is now sleeping but your text made it seem like it's a life and death problem. Since we wouldn't be on this fire escape if it was an actual a medical emergency," Nigel reasoned, eyebrows quirking at Emily's tense posture. Okay, she stopped pacing. Don't know if that's a good thing.

"Well, Nigel. If it was actually a medical emergency, this conversation would be happening in any of these locations. Hospital, psych ward, or the coroner's office. Take your pick. Would that be better for you? For your fucking Saturday routine?" Emily spit out the words harshly, too tired to take the gentle approach when the man in front of her kept that sassy attitude of his. Goddamnit Nigel!

"Coroner's office? What the hell?" Nigel's eyes widened at the implication of Emily's words. "I stopped by after leaving Madeline's place. Some girl I left with from Morrie's yesterday. I wanted a shower before making my way home. The apartment door was unlocked and even slightly ajar. T-then I-" Emily exhaled audibly. God I really hope it was just her falling asleep. Miranda isn't worth your life, you silly cow.

Nigel swallowed, not liking the break in Emily's voice and that exhalation. "Then I found Andy in the bath tub. Underwater with her eyes closed. She swears that she just fell asleep but -," Emily's hands wrapped around the railing and her knocks turned white. But we know her actions could be due to what she saw last night.

"Em?" Nigel asked, sensing that this wasn't the end of the story since Emily only got more tense. "Yes. I mean, as I said previously, she left work early. She went directly to the townhouse after she got off work. She found Miranda and James, fucking. She caught them, Nigel. She saw them and I found her. In the tub. Asleep...," Emily spit out the last part. What if I didn't stop by? What if it's more than just falling asleep?


Nigel felt so many different emotions flood through his system. Fear, relief, shock, anger, fear. What the hell, Miranda! And Andy in the tub. Fuck! The emotions cycled continuously as he processed what Emily shared with him. He felt Emily's gaze resting on him as he stared towards the ground, glaring at it. Miranda, why would you cheat on Andy?

They exchanged knowing glances, similar to last night's at Morrie's. They probably started at the Hamptons. We suspected but we didn't tell Andy. We couldn't tell her. Should we have? Guilt tore through both their minds, knowing the parts they played in omitting Miranda's involvement.

The art director clenched his jaw and masked his guilt with an unreadable expression. I did this to Andy. I sent her directly into the Devil's arms. Sure, it was good when Miranda was happy and in a good mood but what about Andy? She deserved not to get her heart broken. I swear I thought Miranda loved Andy b-but that's not exactly true. Nigel sighs. She had been sucking the life and soul out of Andy for awhile now.

"Nigel?" Emily's voice snapped him out of his spiral as he swallowed painfully. His throat dried up from the emotions he felt. Without answering Emily, he turned to go back into the apartment, eyes scanning the living room for a specific object. He walked around the living room, stalking over to the kitchen and opened the shelves.

Emily's eyes widened. Is he looking for the bloody knives? "What the fuck are you looking for, Nige?" What does it take for a man to get a stiff drink after hearing shit news like that? You'd at least think that you Brits would know the proper way to break bad news," he continued his search.

"Drink? I thought you were looking for knives or something," Emily sputtered as she joined him on his search, feeling parched for some tequila.

"Why is this place like a fucking church?"

"Wrong comparison. A church would have wine for communion. "

"Don't you mean temple. You're jewish, are you not? Ugh, where's the tequila I brought over the last time?"

"Wait, you thought I wanted knives? What for? It's so messy."

"Well…"

"It would be easier if we used poison," the Art Director casually mentions as he pivots towards the kitchen island.

"Poison? Why are you always encouraging murders, Em? Hey, Nige." a sleepy voice drawled out, followed by a sight for sore eyes. Andy's hair was messy but it curled naturally to frame her face. Oh the just got out of bedrock certainly works for Six. She rubbed her eyes and yawned, blinking to clear her vision but her swollen eyes made it difficult. Her best friends' "deer in headlights" expression would have been funny if she wasn't so disoriented.

"What are you doing here so early? Em, the tequila is in the cabinet under the bookcase. And whuh-why are we day-drinking?" Andy yawned mid-sentence but turned around before they could reply. She lumbered into the bathroom, bumping into the wall multiple times before disappearing from their view.

The two of them snapped out of their shock when they heard the tap and Andy brushing her teeth. Nigel cleared his throat and walked towards the cabinet, hoping to compose himself before the brunette returns. She looks like a walking corpse. "Get the glasses, will you?"

"Yes, fine. You understand now why I am making a fuss? You must have thought I was being overdramatic. I assure you-"

"Fuck it. This is more than overdramatic. What do we do now? Have brunch and then what? What about her? What about her? Nigel breathed out, careful not to raise his voice despite feeling very much like screaming.

Emily snatched the bottle from him and poured herself a shot. She gulped and groans internally from Nigel's questions. She was angry, annoyed, tired, exasperated and torn up all that the same time. Andy's heart was shoved into a meat grinder by a woman who happens to be her boss and could call anytime. Miranda still treats me like the fucking assistant when I have been Head of Layouts for a year. I can't wait for Monday. Yi-fucking-pee!


Andy was confused as to why the living room was oddly quiet since two of her best friends enjoyed bickering at all and any time of the day. They sat on the sofa silently sipping tequila. Do people even sip tequila? What's wrong? "Did something happen while I washed up? Why are you both quiet all of a sudden and drinking at 10 in the morning? Did you two fight again?" She shook her head at their odd demeanour while walking to the coffee machine to pour herself a cup.

Emily stood up and joined Andy in the kitchen, leaving Nigel to finish his drink. "I told him what you told me yesterday. So we're drinking. What do you want to do? Do you want brunch? Where?" Emily was at the beginning of a ramble, nervous and worried about Andy.

She reached to cover Emily's hand with her own and smiled. "I'm glad you told him, Em. And yes, I would love brunch. Can't even remember the last time I ate actually. Any suggestions, Nige?" Nigel joined them at the kitchen and only looked at Andy with somber eyes while the brunette placed her mug down. Nigel shook his head but widened his eyes at Emily, as if sending a silent message to the redhead. Get your shit together, Em. Even Andy is better. Wait - why is she so calm?

"I think we should go to Granger on the corner. They serve wheat pancakes for Em and they always have a table when we go with you, Nige. It's so sweet that the owner tries to flirt with you every time we're there. What do you guys think? Yay or nay?" Andy suggested, sighing when she read Nigel's pointed look at Emily.

"If the two of you are going to continue behaving like this, I don't care where we go. You sort this weird thing out right now and you let me enjoy a normal brunch. Stop acting like you two killed someone or are planning to. If you want to ask questions about Miranda, go ahead." Great now I said her name out loud. This is real. Yesterday was real. In-in-out. In-in-out. The sharp pain in Andy's chest cavity returned, nagging at her. Empty.

"Fine, why are you calm? Emily said you were in the tub yesterday. You know you don't have to pretend for us, Six," Nigel replied, wiping his face as he gulped the rest of his tequila. "What's the next step, Andy? What will you do about Miranda and your uhm-you know?" Emily asked, exhaling with some relief because she got to ask Andy these questions aloud. Yes because feeling relief is my priority right not. God, I need to keep my wits with me.

"I'm calm because I'm angry. While I am positively bloodthirsty, I don't want to kill her. Or that man. I don't want to see her. I'm not pretending for you. I'd rather pretend until my insides matched my outsides. My heart is broken. I feel broken in places I-I can't even properly describe but I refuse to cry anymore, Nige. I just can't. Look at my eyes. I'm all cried out and I'm so sure I look horrible. No need to add further damage," Andy said softly, trailing with her usual self deprecation.

"Silly cow, stop fishing for compliments. You don't have to cry. You don't have to see her. Don't do anything you don't want to do," Emily affirmed and gathered the mugs and glasses they used. She needed to break the heaviness of Andy's reply. Will you ever be unbroken, Andy? How? Andy smiled sheepishly as she allows herself to be pulled into a side hug by Nigel. He whispers, "With some fishing line, I'll fix you up, Six. Like old times." Andy's smile grew wider at the reference.

"So you're both supportive then. I'm going back to the townhouse tomorrow."


"What do you mean you're going back?" This is bollocks! She's going to pretend like it never happened? Stay with Miranda? Emily was horrified at the thought of Andy returning to Miranda after what the brunette witnessed. Nigel just stared at Andy, curious as to why and what Andy next moves were. Six has a plan and she's not sharing.

"Miranda will be there but I want to see the girls before I tell her that I know," Andy sighed, having expected that reaction from her friends. "Em, why don't you hop in the shower? Then we can head out. The guest bedroom should have clothes in your size," Andy continued, her tone leaving not much room for argument. She was undeniably grumpy from her hunger. More than anything, she wanted some pancakes and to get her friends to support her plans.

"Ugh! Fine, you two better not leave me out of anything," Emily called out, feeling self-aware of how disgusting she felt when Andy mentioned a shower. Nigel sought out the coffee pot for a refill, feeling an impending sense of doom about the future as he took note of Andy's neutral expression tinted with some mirth. Probably at Emily's fear of missing out.

"I don't understand why you would want to put yourself through it. I know you and the twins have gotten close but they will understand. Darling cow, they can't possibly expect -," Emily said softly when Andy relayed her plan with them over pancakes.

"I know both of you don't understand but I am guarding my heart. It would hurt a million times more if I didn't explain or tell them in person. I need to see them, to give them hugs. They need to know that I'm not abandoning them, that I would never do so if there was another choice. I'm not there for Miranda," Andy said resolutely as she poured syrup over her pancakes, earning her soft a groan and eye-roll from Emily. Not for Miranda. Yeah, well loving the twins as much as you do is definitely not for Miranda.

Nigel has been subdued and silent since the apartment, only smiling at the teasing she earned when the owner of Granger gave them seats immediately. "Emily…" Nigel broke his self-imposed silence, his mind having gone into overdrive at the logistics required for Andy's plan to be executed.

"Oh of course we will. I hope you didn't have any doubts about us helping you. I'm worried. I have a right to be," Emily sniffed and resumed eating, suppressing the need to groan aloud at the impossibility of trying to get Miranda to do anything.

Nigel interrupted any further words from Emily with a deep laugh. Emily, worshipper of the High Priestess of Fashion is going to help the disgraced second assistant. Oh fucking Lord. "Don't you worry. Just leave it to the both of us. You worry about what to say to the twins."

"Just like that? No lecture?" Andy asked, surprised. "Oh honey, I'm the good cop remember? You have your mother, Emily for that. She's the bad cop."

At that, Andy threw her head back in genuine laughter. The thought of Em and Nige having a child together was absurd. What made it more ridiculous was that they would share a child like Andy, unfashionable and total klutz. The image tickled every part of her mind, even the ones haunted by the scene she saw. The three of them laughed, enjoying the rich tones of Andy's laughter.

It's been awhile, Six.

You might just be okay after all, you silly cow.


[Sunday afternoon]

She exhaled audibly, tapping into those breathing exercises that she spent the whole of yesterday perfecting. It hasn't been that long. The key to the backdoor dug into her palm as she clenched it in her fist. I hope you know what you're doing. While they were on their way, she sent a text to Miranda to tell her that she was on the way. To tell you that I know. To see your expression when I relay my disgust and anger. To get the satisfaction of berating you and calling you every bad word I know in my very impressive vocabulary. To slap you for breaking your promise. She looked to her side, the man beside her looked at her warily. Similarly unsure of their next actions, Nigel hesitated but rang the doorbell.

The door revealed a casually dressed Miranda. Pursed lips and bored expression failed to affect the guests. They could tell something was off-kilter with Miranda. She internally shrugged at the micro-expressions she saw in Miranda's eyes. Guilt? Are you even capable of that emotion, Miranda?

Her eyes hardened at that thought and she licked her lips before allowing the word to roll off her tongue, "Miranda."


Sorry for the delay. The last few weeks of term before the holiday break has been crazy. I've started a tumblr for PoeticHeretic related stuff. The title of the blog is "drying inward from the edge". Check it out when you have time. And as always, thank you for reading. - Luce