If and When

A Devil Wears Prada Story

By Kamouraskan

All mail is answered at Kamouraskan at yahoo dot com

Chapter 10

The light from the phone began to flicker, so Andy pulled out her own cell and approached the barricaded door. She pulled away a section of ceiling, coughing as the dust raised a cloud and flashed the light behind. "It's only partly blocked."

"And the glass is half full?"

"Miranda…" She stopped to think. What can I say that won't piss her off even more? But it had to be the truth. That was something Miranda always respected even when she hated it.

"Miranda, all we need to do is open the door enough to squeeze through, and I can see a gap almost big enough. We can do that. What I cannot do is fight this building and you at the same time."

Even without light to see, Andy could feel Miranda's wall going up.

"I really am aware of how bad this is, but we are still alive against the odds and we still have our brains and we are both strong women. I will not give up and I need you to try." And hesitantly she added, "For us."

"So you want me to make a blind commitment hoping for the best?" Miranda laughed mirthlessly. "Andréa, I can't, I don't do that."

Andy laid the phone on the ground, and in the shadowed light tenderly cupped Miranda's chin to turn her face back towards her. "You do. You have. Look. When you started at Runway it was a huge risk, it was about to be shut down and the board had nothing to lose by putting you in charge, right?"

"How is that the same?"

"You had faith. Faith in yourself that you had the skills, the patience and you knew that the potential, what Runway could become, was worth whatever efforts it took. You knew what you could do, if you were committed to it." Andréa looked deeply into the reddened eyes and said softly, "I think what we might have is worth that same commitment. I think even the smallest chance of that, is worth fighting for, worth anything, to see your girls again. I'm willing to put my faith in our skills because the potential is worth all of that and more. So don't tell me you can't commit. Your only out is if you honestly can say that you don't think it would be worth the commitment."

The exhaustion and anger Miranda was feeling were visible in her eyes, but there was a determination that had been missing and was now returning. Andréa dropped her arm to take Miranda's hand in hers.

"I have faith that if you commit to this, if we are both in this with all our skills, then it will happen."

"You're not referring to just escaping this death trap, are you?" But it was said with a smile, and Andy pulled the older woman into a firm hug.

"I think we know who the subtle one is in this relationship."

To Andy's surprise and relief, the woman did not seem upset with the use of the word relationship. Instead she relaxed into the hug, murmuring, "I will trust that you will never expect me to begin singing Zipadee Doodah."

"Never."

"And I trust you aren't prying that door open in your condition."

"And you aren't using that foot to brace yourself," Andy retorted.

Miranda picked up the phone. "So, Archimedes, we need…"

"A lever. And we don't need to open it all the way, just enough to squeeze through."

"Into what?"

"One way to find out, Miss Sunshine."

There were enough shattered structural steel pieces scattered around that they could hardly move without tripping over one. Selecting something of the right size, the two women managed to pull a section of the wall away from the door, praying that it didn't cause the rest of the ceiling to collapse.

Pulling the door open over the portions of concrete that littered the floor required some clearing of the area, but within a few minutes they had enough space to fit through.

Miranda remained firm in her lack of optimism, but Andy was effervescent. "That's good! More than enough space… and I can see light?"

Miranda frowned. "There can't be windows in the inner stairwells."

Andy pushed her head through the space and called back, "No, more emergency lighting on batteries. I doubt they were meant to last this long, so they'll probably burn out soon."

"The epitaph for everything in this building."

Andy snorted, but squeezed through the doorway, putting out her hand back through, waiting for the garment bags. They were passed over and Miranda followed her. The emergency light was a flickering shade of orange. They could see the banisters, but the stairs were completely covered with rubble. There was also just enough light for Andy to finally notice the wreck that had been Miranda's gown. Horrified, she said, "Miranda, I've gotten blood all over your De La Renta!"

The Queen of Fashion didn't even glance downward. "It's still a damn sight better looking than that bloody bee costume."

A quick glance down through the gap in the stair's spiral showed the damage continued for several floors at least. Both women looked down to Miranda's injured foot. She'd never make it down the first flight, much less thirty stories.

"This is probably the worst of it, once we get to the lower levels, there's possibly less damage," Andy tried.

Miranda's lips pursed, and she stated calmly, "Once again, I applaud your optimism, but I believe we have come to a parting of the ways."

Andy froze. "Don't even joke about that. I only got this far because of you, I'm not leaving you here after all… after all, whatever this has been."

"A really terrible second date?" Miranda posed.

"Second date?" Andy managed to blurt over her laughter. "Where was I during our first?"

Miranda attempted to appear insulted. "We both were dressed up for the gala. There was dinner and a good night kiss. What parameters would you judge it by?"

"By that definition, this is our third date." Andy worked her way over the rubble to the stair rails. "Look at the time. It was yesterday that we got dressed up, there were more kisses, the earth moved…"

Miranda harrumphed. "Even you cannot call whatever that thing is, dressed up."

"You're just worried about what my expectations might be at the end of the third date." Andy shot her a quick wink. She heard Miranda release a graceful chuckle. She carefully stepped over more of the crumbled stone and pulled on the heavy, wide stair rails. "These are strong enough to take our weight, we'll slide down," she announced.

At Miranda's wide-eyed disbelief, she smirked, "It'll be fun."

Miranda raised her hand to point at the studs that spotted the top of the rails all the way along. "Ripping myself a new one is something I preferred to do unto others."

"We just need something soft to slide on. Fortunately we still have the magical all purpose bee suit that you keep defaming."

The nail scissors made another appearance and Andy surveyed her fur-covered legs before inserting the blade carefully, just above her thighs.

Miranda sparked, "And another piece of skin is revealed. This is becoming far too similar to too many action films."

Andy smiled and continued cutting. "Yes, but if I end up half naked, remember, at least I'll be in designer underwear."

The material became caught in the scissors, and in frustration, she began to tear along the seams.

"What part of DO NOT strain yourself did I not make clear?"

"It's fine. Can you see how cheap the stitching is?"

Miranda's throat went dry as the long legs were slowly revealed. "Yes, I can see," she murmured. Then took a deep breath. "Cheap, horrible..." Even in the flickering light, the legs seemed to go on and on…. "Oh. my..."

"It can't be that offensive to you, really, " Andy looked over to see the almost glazed eyes of the CEO, and then looked down to what the other woman's eyes were locked onto. "Oh." A self-satisfied grin appeared. "Miranda...?"

There was a not so subtle attempt on Miranda's part to recover. "Hmmm. Yes. I have decided that if, and when, you were right to bring along the couture," she said, indicating the garment bags.

"Really?"

"Yes," she said definitely. "No one gets to see those thighs. Not tonight. Possibly ever again."

"Except you?"

"Is that a question?"

"Rather possessive," Andy asked with a smirk.

"Is that going to be a problem?"

"I'm not the one who has crowds of adoring fans everywhere they go." She began to carefully fold the sections of the bee costume, leaving the thicker seams on the bottom.

"Then you haven't realised in this mythical if and when of yours where we survive, you'll be a hero. Your job is going to be harder when the people you interview aren't half as well known as you will be."

"Then I'll have some protection for the accusations that I'm a gold-digger for being with you."

"And the accusations that you're out of your mind to be with me?"

"I'm hoping your opinion will change eventually."

"Saucy."

"Saucy and rather possessive, we're a match." She held out one of the pads she had folded to Miranda. "Your ride awaits, Madame."

Laying her own pad by a post, she helped Miranda over the piles of stone, noting that despite the pain she must have been feeling to raise her leg over the railing, not a sound escaped those lips. She found she couldn't resist the objects of her contemplation, and before steadying the CEO, gave her a short and definitely unsatisfying peck on the lips.

"I believe I was withholding my favours until we were outside and safe?" Miranda objected.

"I never agreed to anything like that. And anyway, how do I know that attitude won't be a continuing aspect of our future when and if relationship?"

"If and when, you and I are alone, I am far more likely to slit my own throat than withhold…" and there was a very long pause, at least to Andy's ears there was, before a sibilant whisper continued, "anything from you."

Andy swallowed. "That's incentive. Though I might worry that you are manipulating me openly to use my big brains just to get out of here."

"More interested in the big heart, dearest. For some time to come." With Miranda safely astride the rail, Andy grabbed the garment bags, and carefully rolled them to place in her lap. Then she took her own pad and mounted in front. Miranda eyed the posterior that would act as her brake. "Though at the moment, your bi… perfectly, sculptured posterior is quite useful."

With Andy using her leg to balance, they made it to the first turn, and carefully eased about it and continued. The stenciled sign for the 29th Floor was soon in front. Andy pointed to the door and asked, "These fire doors are pretty well unbreakable, right? No point in checking if there's access to windows or more supplies to steal?"

"None whatsoever, access is only one way out without keys." Miranda agreed. "For once, we're fortunate, in that the stairwells empty directly onto the 20th floor lobby."

As they continued riding the rails, Miranda noticed that Andy was humming the theme for the Wicked Witch. "Must you?"

"It's stuck in my head!"

"Never mind me. Probably half the building has it for my ring tone."

"Only half?"

It took over almost thirty minutes before they had reached the 25th floor level, and Andy realized two things: One, they hadn't heard any major crashes for some time, though the creaking and groaning had continued, and Two, Miranda was having difficulty keeping her legs raised and was clearly in pain.

"I've got a bit of a headache, maybe we could take a few minutes break?"

For a moment, Miranda's eyes widened in worry for her partner, but then they narrowed as she detected the white lie. "By all means, but only a short one," With a tincture of sarcasm, she added, "Unless you feel it's too painful."

Andréa turned and placed her feet under Miranda's for her to rest on. There was an uncomfortable silence, until she ventured into a subject that had been on her mind for a while.

"Nigel might have mentioned that the girls… might… not hate me? As a person? A person who might want to be…"

Miranda rolled her eyes and cut into the rambling. "The girls are highly supportive."

There was such delight on her face that Miranda was tempted to smile, but instead said, "I'd show you the messages the girls have left, actually encouraging us to be more of a couple."

Andy raised an eyebrow. "That would be on the phone you claimed you didn't have?"

Miranda pretended to think for a moment. "It's in a drawer in the office."

The eyebrow rose further. "Uh huh. You should have grabbed it when you were doing the check."

"It was an evacuation, Andréa. You are supposed to bring only what is most important. At the time, that was you."

"Oh! I am honoured, Madame. No one would believe Miranda Priestly would say such lovely, romantic and cheesy things."

"As long as you appreciate the honour."

Andréa let the moment linger for a second before stating, "You forgot the phone because there wasn't an assistant to hand it to you, right?"

Miranda allowed a grin. "Of course."

"Okay, Priestly, just for that, when and if I am asked about how I was injured, I'll tell them…the truth."

"Why does that sound so threatening?"

"I'll tell them," and her voice became faint and her face softened to look quite confused. "I was alone, all alone in an elevator with my former boss, Miranda Priestly? No one else around, then…" Her voice sunk to whisper, "it got really dark and I don't know what happened but, when I woke up my head was bashed like this! It's all very hazy, but I do remember at one point, she tried to drag me down an elevator shaft!" Andy stopped her recitation and pursed her full lips to see Miranda's reaction.

Whose lips were far more professionally pursed. "No doubt you risked landing on top of a large pile of my previous employees at the bottom of the shaft."

Andrea tried to keep a straight face. "Ah! So this was all a plan to get rid of the evidence."

With a sigh born of martyrdom, Miranda agreed. "Only so many elevator shafts, but so many incompetents."

Andy mock toasted, "To fresh starts and larger, new elevator shafts!"

After a nod of agreement, Andy turned about, waited for Miranda to brace herself, and they continued their slow descent. They passed the 21st floor with Andy cheering and Miranda giving a muted huzzah, both in their way, acknowledging they had passed the halfway mark.

They stumbled into the 20th floor open plan lobby, legs aching from the exertion. It was a shambles and the fallen ceiling still enclosed them, blocking access to any windows. Their eyes had become used to the emergency lighting of the stairs and all seemed pitch black, so the phone was brought out again to search through what was left of the crushed reception desks. Only one drawer was intact and locked but the small bolt was no match to the brute force of Miranda fiercely wielding a piece of concrete. Another cell phone was captured, and found to be fully charged. There was still no signal; so another miracle of the 21st century was used as a torch. While Miranda rested, Andréa found the inner stair doors, unblocked, and leading to another railed stairwell. There was less rubble, but despite her stoic silence, Miranda's foot was obviously swollen and it was silently agreed they would continue to ride their way down.

Following their tradition, they stopped at the 15th Floor, with both women trying to ignore the increasing optimism that they were going to make it. But the stress of holding Miranda in position, and the long day and night finally caught up to Andréa. She closed her eyes, and with Miranda slowly stroking her hair with one hand and holding the other, despite the creaking noises, the impending death surrounding them, she fell asleep. It took another slab avalanche that skidded above them to wake her, and she startled, eyes bright in the dim light.

"How long?"

"Just fifteen minutes, you, we both needed it. Though I am amazed that you could sleep through this."

Andréa blushed. "I just focused on your hand, and well, everything else was just the circumstances that allowed me to be here… holding your hand."

Miranda's eyes softened, but typically, not her words. "And you said I was cheesy."

Though as Andy turned to continue their slide, she heard the Miranda whisper, "You lovely, foolish, darling."

Andy tossed back, "Heard that!"

From behind came a confident reply, " I am surprisingly fine with that."

Their banter continued; Andy enjoying the relaxed Miranda she had seldom seen at Runway, knowing it was good therapy for both of them. Their spirits were rising, despite Miranda's best attempts at dampening them, as they approached the three quarter mark. There was more damage suddenly, much more rubble, and even the banisters were angled, making it a difficult slide. They were arguing over whether they could chance another short rest on the tenth level but as they turned the corner rail to reach it, they were both shocked to see a large, and seemingly impenetrable barrier of a massive fire door blocking the way downwards.

Andy looked at Miranda as she dismounted, but the fashion maven was suddenly poker faced.

The door was firmly and irrevocably locked.

"Andréa. I'm afraid…" And she stopped, to choke out a bitter laugh. "Despite what Alanis might have thought, this is the final irony. Unfortunately, too final for you."

"It's just a door, Miranda. Just another problem."

"It's a full security door, my darling. And I only wish I had an apology for this, but I locked this door."

Andy swallowed at the misery in her former boss' voice. "I don't think you did."

Miranda pointed upwards. "The floor above, behind another locked door? That's the tenth floor shipping. The basement and ground floor loading docks were unavailable, so we took the lowest floors we could."

"I know all that, I was sent down to S and R more times than I want to remember."

"Then you know, we have materials, of course couture, passing through, being stored, sometimes worth millions, and there were discrepancies in the invoices this week. So I asked security to investigate."

Andy slumped to the floor slowly.

Miranda continued in the same flat, toneless voice. "They clearly took this as a recommendation to seal off the floor. I doubt if either of us is capable of climbing ten flights even if there were time or another exit, and all the stairwells on the way are locked from this side."

Andy shook her head. "But it's a fire escape. You can't lock fire escapes. How many people…"

"Yes, Andréa, I am well aware of the wonderful history of industrial disasters created by owners who were attempting to reduce theft or because they simply didn't care about their workers. The Triangle Shirtwaist fire killed over 150 workers, most of them women."

Though the door represented almost certain death, Andy found herself more interested in assuaging her partner's guilt. And she remembered something. "Miranda, you do remember RAR? Report, Action, Response."

"I instituted it, as you well know."

"You ordered this increase in security, when?"

"I told you, Wednesday, after I received the report."

"And if security stupidly ordered this, there'd be a memo detailing that on your desk now for your response to their action, right?"

Illumination occurred. "And if we hadn't been rushing about for the party, once I saw what they'd done…"

"You'd be in your happy place, firing incompetents. This is not a crime against the workers, it's just our bad timing." Miranda's face was still, pondering. "Bad luck, not your fault. Really."

"Lovely of you to say so, but I think the media would disagree. Face it, Andréa, this is so very appropriate, that the Queen of Fashion should be found behind the locked security door like so many poor desperate women, so very appropriate except that you, my dear, are trapped with me."