Chapter Eleven

Oddly enough, everything turns a bit awkward now that they are alone. Sleeping in the same bed with Miranda didn't feel awkward. Having Miranda practically pick her up off the floor and hearing that Andy has dreams of about her was embarrassing, but not awkward. But this is. Standing in the living room in absolute silence is awkward. And there is so much to do today. They don't have time for this. Whatever this is. It doesn't help that Andy feels desperate for a Sorting Hat right now either.

Miranda finally breaks the silence and what she chooses to talk about tells Andy that she is desperate too. Desperate for a distraction.

"You know," Miranda says sweeping her hand over the living room, "I don't know whether I'm in Nerd Land or a Man Cave."

Seriously? Okay, Nerd Land, maybe. But her apartment is definitely not a Man Cave.

"Oh, come on," Andy shakes her head and can't help but laugh as the awkwardness dissipates. "I'll give you Nerd Land. But this is not a Man Cave." She points to the three, professionally framed Harry Potter 'war-time' recruitment posters on the wall behind the couch and the many Star Wars items scattered around. Her collection is extensive. But then again, so is her obsession. Everyone's got to have something, don't they? "Nerd Land," she says, still pointing. "But not a Man Cave."

Miranda raises an eyebrow and looks doubtful. "You have a television in the bathroom, Andrea. And in the kitchen."

And there's the line. Andy waves a hand to stop Miranda before she can go any further. "No dissing my flat-screens." she continues, turning and walking away toward the kitchen. Hopefully there's coffee left, and to hell with cereal. She'll just get something later.

"Touchy subject?" Miranda asks, following along behind.

"Yep. Those are my babies. Pride and joy."

"Alright then. No dissing of flat-screens." Miranda surrenders with a hint of disbelief in her voice and hands her a tall, dark cup of coffee from Starbucks. "Darren brought it," she says and it's plainly obvious that she intentionally allows their fingers to brush as Andy takes it from her.

By now they've held hands or touched each other on the arm half a dozen times, but only since last night, so this contact is just as new and thrilling. Even just this light touch seems surreal; yet it's like an anchor too, an assurance almost.

"Thank you." Andy can barely get the words out.

"You're welcome. Thank you for last night."

Well, now Andy's even more tongue-tied.

"I know this has been a serious invasion of your privacy."

"No," Andy says, suddenly realizing just how badly she doesn't want them to go yet. It's worse than she thought. "No, it isn't at all. Really, Miranda. I wanted you here…"

Her cellphone rings and Andy almost curses out loud. Of all the times for it to ring, this isn't one of them. Grabbing it quickly, intent on pressing 'ignore', Andy looks at the screen. The name on the display should be a clue that today will be filled with nothing but one round of 'what-the-fuck-ness' after another because it's Irv Ravitz… And while she's got his number programmed into her phone, Andy has never called him. And he has never called her.

By now it's on the third ring and Miranda has departed to the living room to gather her things. Andy knows she probably thinks it's Roy, telling her that he's almost there, along with one of Darren's people.

"Hello?" Andy answers with a lump in her throat and a knot in her stomach. What in the hell could he want?

She doesn't have to ask because he just comes right out with it.

"The papers have it," he says, she can tell by the background noise that he's in a car, not to mention clearly agitated. "You know that, right?"

"Yes," she says, even though the only reason she does is because Greg called Miranda. At this point that would be the only way he could have found out. But what she doesn't know is just how much or how little coverage the story has received. Thankfully, she doesn't have to ask Irv that either.

"It's not much coverage but it's enough to have those bastards camped out in front of Elias-Clark. I just passed there."

"Oh. Well, I—"

"You can't let her come in the front door. I won't allow them to get to her like that today." Andy's head starts to spin as he continues. Is it possible that he actually gives a damn about Miranda? Jesus… "She's an absolute bitch," he says. "And if this were any kind of her usual self-made drama, I wouldn't hesitate to let the vultures descend. But not today."

And that's when Andy basically collapses into a kitchen chair and Miranda takes notice, coming over immediately.

"I'm in the car with Roy," he says and Andy's ears start to ring. He cares. Some small piece of Irv actually cares about Miranda. It's very likely that she might faint. Not Miranda; but Andy, because this is just too unbelievable. "She's got her security people, correct?"

A barely audible "Uh, huh," is all she can muster.

"Good. Tell them to come get her. Wherever she is. I know she's not at home and I know she's not at the office already, obviously, so tell them to pick her up and take her in through the garage. No front door service today. I'm handling that. It'll shock the hell out of them. They all know that town-car and she'll be inside the building already by the time they know what's happened."

"Okay…" Andy even shakes her head and Miranda looks like she's only seconds from taking the phone away from her.

"This is hardly big news by their standards," he continues. "So a day or two tops is all the coverage it should get. She can do what she wants tomorrow but for today, considering what's happened, I'd say she deserves a goddamned break. And tell her no arguments. I don't give a crap what she says. Is it true the house was torn to pieces?"

"Yeah…" She barely answers.

"I swear to God… Probably some fucking kids. Ever hear of the Bling Ring? California? Damn it… That's the last thing we need in this city."

The line goes dead after that and it's official. She's about to black out.

"What is it?" Miranda asks.

There's definitely no way Andy can lie about this and she's still half out of it anyway so she blurts everything out at once, just to get it over with.

"It was Irv," she says, watching fire instantly ignite in Miranda's eyes. "He wants you to come in through the garage. With Darren…or whoever. Not with Roy. He's taking Roy…to throw the reporters off. He…uh…said considering what's happened, he didn't want you to have to deal with that this morning. He said tomorrow it probably, you know, wouldn't be as bad. But today he didn't want you to…"

Now, it's Miranda's turn to land in a kitchen chair and of course, the first words out of her mouth are, "This is some kind of trick."

Andy shakes her head. "No, Miranda. I really don't think it is."

"It is," she says, glaring at the table.

Andy can't believe she's about to defend him. It seems like the worst sin imaginable. Like she's committing treason.

"I… Miranda he's serious," she says. "This isn't a trick. He wants to do this for you."

"You believe him?" Miranda asks, suspicious.

"I do. I can't believe that I do. But I do."

"I can handle the Press," she says, nearly spitting out the words. "He of all people should know that."

"You're right. You can." Andy tries to sound as gentle as possible, hoping to stop Miranda before she truly blows a gasket. "This is a little different though. Don't you think?" Then, bringing out a tactic that probably doesn't have a chance in hell of working, Andy takes Miranda's hand. "I would like it if you went in through the garage. Forget Irv. I'd like you to bypass all that this morning if you can…"

"Oh, you would?" Miranda says with a raised eyebrow.

"I would," Andy says, remaining gentle but trying not to sound like she's begging at the same time.

She almost doesn't believe it when she hears it, but a few seconds and one deep breath later, Miranda agrees.

As it turns out, Darren is already waiting outside. Roy called him and changed their plan without Miranda's permission and the list of people that care about Miranda (even just a little bit) keeps growing.

Darren takes the longer route to Elias-Clark which is fine because there are a million phone calls that can be made during the ride. Well almost a million. Miranda is on the phone with Leslie and then her lawyer the whole time while Andy makes appointments with the half dozen people Miranda will need to see today and cancels the half dozen she could care less about right now. Of those, what absolutely cannot be canceled, she tosses to Nigel via text message. He's all too happy to help and wants details of their night.

She doesn't tell him a single thing other than that they got a bit of a late start this morning. That's it. No details. Andy can sense his disappointment even though they're not face-to-face but there's no way she's relenting. The last thing she does is text Emily for the first coffee run of the day then sits back and watches everything go by outside the window. Until she hears the words 'unfit parent' come out of Miranda's mouth, that is, and decides to pretend Darren doesn't even exist and the SUV is being driven by a robot.

Unbuckling her seatbelt, Andy slides over toward Miranda. Darren looks in the rearview mirror once and only once, and then turns the radio on.

By the look Miranda gives her, Andy knows she's startled and maybe that she doesn't approve, but Andy doesn't care. She's sick of hearing the words 'unfit parent' because it's likely that Miranda's actually starting to believe she is exactly that. Looping her arm through Miranda's (she's still on the phone) Andy whispers, "You're not an unfit parent, Miranda."

After that, Miranda sighs, gets off the phone, and for the next ten minutes they simply sit there with their fingers laced together. If the situation weren't so serious, Andy would think she was back in junior-high, sitting on the bus or something, with her little boyfriend from down the street. But this isn't junior-high and honestly, it's the first time their age difference comes to mind.

It hardly takes two seconds for Andy to realize that she doesn't give a damn.

The parking garage entrance is on the other side of the building so they miss seeing the crowd all together. Darren pulls up to the elevator inside and before he can get out, Miranda opens the door and turns, holding her hand out. Knowing this is the last time she'll get this chance today; Andy takes her hand firmly. Letting go, once she's exited the SUV, ends up being the beginning of one hell of a transformation.

Miranda squares her shoulders, standing straighter than she has in nearly twelve hours and marches toward the elevator in full Miranda Priestly mode. In a million years Andy would never guess anything even mildly traumatic has happened to her and would certainly never guess that this Miranda Priestly, Andy's boss, could ever have feelings for her. But, no matter what kind of show Miranda puts on today, Andy knows the truth.

When they exit the elevator Emily is right there, giving Andy a hateful look as she hands Miranda her coffee and begins to scribble away at her notepad, dutifully writing down just about every word that's coming out of Miranda's mouth. In a way this is pretty nice, just getting to walk down the hall and not start her day off in a complete rush, like a chicken with her head cut off. Andy could get used to it for sure, but it ends quickly. As soon as they're one foot inside the office the day officially starts, tasks are doled out and Andy is running around, once again, like a headless chicken.

All jokes aside, she keeps a sharp eye on Miranda which takes no effort because without realizing it, she's been doing that for ages—and not just as a job. Shuffling through the maze of Nigel's Rumor Mill takes no effort either because she skillfully cuts him off at the pass each and every time, giving him something else to go do. Ignoring the various ugly faces that Emily keeps tossing her way is as easy as ever and the day just keeps going and going at its usual crazy pace…until around noon.

Around noon, Andy gets a job handed down to her that blows her mind.

Miranda calls her in and asks for two print-outs of the missing art pieces. That's nothing, Andy has anticipated this and with one phone call to Cara, an amazingly detailed list arrives in her inbox thirty seconds later. The real job comes next.

Andy hands both copies over to Miranda who glances at them, looking pleased at their detail. With an uncharacteristic tug of her bottom lip, she mumbles, "This should work," and puts one copy in an envelope with a hastily written note. There's something of an evil little grin on her face when she slips in the note. It sort of reminds Andy of Caroline but she pushes that away. There isn't time to think about the girls right now.

Handing her the envelope, Miranda finally looks up. "Take this to Anna. She's expecting you."

The base of Andy's skull starts to fry. Anna?

Miranda gives her a look that clearly means-stop being stupid. "You know who I'm talking about," she says, still giving Andy that look. "Someone at the desk will tell you where to go. You can ask for her by name. That won't be a problem."

Andy really can't move. Anna? Oh… Well… See? More 'what-the-fuck-ness'. How wonderful. This has got to be a joke. It's just got to be because compared to getting her hands on an unpublished manuscript; this is the most unbelievable request in the whole fucking world.

"Go, Andrea." Miranda says, literally shooing her toward the door. "She doesn't have all day and neither do I. Now go. I'm due to receive a call from Detective Henley at any moment and cannot have you standing here with your mouth hanging open like an idiot. Go."

There isn't an "Okay" or a "Yes, Miranda" or anything else that can come out of Andy's mouth. She just turns around and walks out, barely remembering to get her coat and bag.

Roy isn't waiting for her when she gets outside. Why would he be? It's a short walk to the enemy encampment. Ironically enough, they're practically neighbors and in fifteen minutes Andy is standing in the lobby of the Condé Nast Building, asking to see Anna Wintour.

As far as Andy is concerned, she might as well be committing treason for the second time today, and fully expects an entire legion of Dementors to come out of some dark corner at any moment.

To Be Continued

Note: Work is slow tonight so I thought I'd be nice and give you another chapter since I had the time to post. Hope you enjoyed it.