Good morning, evening, afternoon and all those in between hours. I return...much to my own surprise lol!

I really wasn't going to post tonight cos i'm tired and have had a hard day and was going to give myself some time to type the rest and get it all sorted. but i felt guilty (and valued my life) so here we are!! lol

The story continues straight after Andy's departure from Miranda's office it begins with Miranda's thoughts and feelings on everything thats just happened. Thank you to my beta ellipsisoveruse!! she was sleepy and yet still gave it a good look over...cos she knows i try to update everyday (so i didn't have an excuse not to...damn her lol)

yawn gods i'm so sleepy!! i'm going to go play with my Miranda on the sims lol!!

hope you enjoy and its developing to your taste. and thats its not too ooc...toeing the line as always!!

hugs

Scarlett

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Looking For Answers

Miranda leaned against the door to her office, which thankfully closed her off from the rest of the world. Her chest was heaving as she gasped for breath. The intensity of the kiss was more than anything she'd ever experienced before, so much emotion poured into such a simple thing. Her hand came up, touching her lips, still tingling after the act.

She should be angry, she'd been all-consumed with anger when she'd walked into the office that morning. But it seemed like hours ago. She couldn't deny the fact that if Andrea was acting, she deserved an Oscar for it. No one had ever made her feel this way from a single kiss. It had been so deep, so desperate, like Andrea had been trying to imprint herself on Miranda's soul. Miranda pushed herself away from the wall, needing something to occupy her mind, mentally cursing herself for sending Andrea away.

Had she just made a mistake?

Her eyes fell upon the article, knowing it off by heart, having read it over and over on the journey into work - having had it pushed in front of her by her own children no less. It had been released yesterday, before they'd returned, everyone aware of it hitting the shelves apart from the people away with them. Andrea had been right - the content focused around the photo, no extra comments or additions to the article - just the damning evidence followed by speculation. Andrea's name wasn't mentioned either, a question hanging over the identity of the mystery woman that the ice queen had swapped sides for, comments on being unable to hold a man down were rife within every article she'd read since. She'd been so sure that Andrea had sold her out; having never had any happiness within her life last for long, it was certain this would turn sour. And so she'd accepted the idea without question, just another in a long line of people to stab her in the back, but now Andrea's words washed over her, damaging her determination, making her question herself. Had she condemned Andrea because of other people's shortcomings? Had she been so sure of the idea that everyone was out for their own gain that she'd overlooked the fact that she had one woman who wasn't?

She needed something, any proof one way or another. Emotions confused Miranda, befuddled her mind. She couldn't read them well, always sensing an underlying motive and when she didn't wondering why. Emotions to her were uncertain, evidence easy to misinterpret and clouded every judgment, within the work place and out of it. She needed facts, something she couldn't deny or ignore, and she had a feeling where she might find them.

She stepped out into the outer office, eyes falling on Emily, the young woman obviously attempting to avoid her eyes.

She needed to get the red head out and also address her staff within the hour on the situation, already angered by all the eyes following her around the office, peering in at every opportunity. 'Emily, I want my coffee within the next five minutes then arrange a meeting for all members of staff and ensure everyone is present, and I mean everyone. That's all.'

The woman jumped up, overly eager to get out, escape any wrath that might be forthcoming, well aware of the situation and unwilling to get caught in the crossfire.

Miranda looked around, ensuring the coast was clear - for once, troubled by a guilty conscience. She couldn't believe she was sinking so low, but she had to know. With a subtle step behind Andrea's desk she ducked down, cringing at the subtle crack of stitching, her skirt wasn't designed for such behaviour, but she wouldn't relent. Andrea lived in this office, so Miranda knew she'd find what she needed here.

She tugged at the first drawer, fingers rifling through everything in it, forcing down the last remnant of guilt at invading Andrea's privacy. If the young woman had sold her out to the papers, then she couldn't care less for her assistant's privacy. But if Andrea was innocent… Miranda hadn't even considered the possibility until that kiss, but if she was innocent, then, well, she didn't need to know. Simple.

Miranda found nothing in the top drawer except a few scribbled notes and numbers, darting down to the next she found stationary but nothing else. She descended to the final drawer and tugged, it didn't budge. She tried again before realising it was locked. Her eyes peeked over the desk, checking that the office remained empty. Miranda pulled the second drawer open again, and took out a paper clip. She had learned many things in her youth, no matter how pointless it may have seemed at the time. Most she had long forgotten, but for once she was thankful. This little trick was about to come in very handy.

With a finally hurried glance around the office she dove back down and got to work.

……………..

Andy had made it home. She'd been unaware of how she'd even ended up on her street, feet carrying her on the familiar path while her mind remained numb to the world.

She'd stumbled through the door, tears stinging her cheeks and raided her fridge for food, for once not caring about her figure. Why did it matter anyway? It wasn't like she'd ever work in the fashion industry again - not after this. She'd be just another assistant scorned by Miranda Priestly, burnt by the woman's icy attitude - a serious case of frostbite.

Now she was buried beneath her covers, tub of ice cream in hand, slowly drowning her sorrows. The press had been gathering outside her flat over the past hour, someone had finally given her away. She now understood why there had been nothing to alert her before she'd entered Elias-Clark that morning. She snuck out a brief glance from beneath her duvet. The article was now littering the floor - moments before, it had been spread over her bed, eyes reading the article over and over, unable to keep her gaze falling from the many photos of her and Miranda in action. It was only obvious it was the older woman with a girl. Andy's back had been to the camera, an unknown figure until now. There had been the main snapshot, a single kiss, Miranda's hands in her hair, before flicking to page six, another four adorning the double page, spilling over onto page seven. Miranda's head thrown back, Andy's face buried between her breasts, it was obvious who it was and what was happening - there was no denying it. The one moment Miranda had let go, relinquished her guard, and it had been handed as ammunition straight to the other side. How had this happened?

Andy crawled out from under her covers, spoon dangling from her mouth as she gazed over the floor. Clothes strewn everywhere, she'd thrown them off haphazardly almost ripping them from her frame - not wishing to layer herself in labels any longer. That life was over, and all the items from the Closet were just another sore reminder of the world in which she'd existed in only moments ago, the world in which the woman she loved lived her life. Andy had finally admitted it to herself. You don't know what you've got till its gone. She'd felt Miranda slipping away the moment the article had been brought to her attention, the sheer panic bubbling up, fear of having something so precious ripped away from her at a moment's notice. Her heart had physically hurt, choking on her tears. The trails of despair were still drying over her cheeks, tears having halted long ago, giving into to an all consuming numbness.

She sighed, the news hadn't reached her friends or parents, knowing her name would be released the following morning. Someone had told the press - everyone at Runway knew it was her in the picture.

Her gaze fell on her phone, lips pursing in contemplation. She could still take advantage of Miranda's name… the world wasn't aware of her departure, and even if they were, she could always call herself Emily.

She intended to find out who; along with the culprit who'd sold Miranda and her out at the hotel. She may have lost everything, but at least her curiosity could still be satisfied, she would find out and wouldn't hesitate to let Miranda know. The anger that Miranda could even suspect her of luring her in had abated, but the hurtful sting still remained. But she wasn't willing to deal with it now, everything still open and sore. She wanted time to retreat and lick her wounds.

Scrabbling forward she reached out flicking the paper over, hiding the article from her eyes and with a sigh of sadness burrowed back under the covers.

TBC

--SS--

Don't say i never do anything for ya lol...i've only added more pressure on maself to type cos i couldn't leave you waiting for one extra day..i'm too nice for my own good lol. please review peeps!!