Author's Note: Thank you all for all of your comments. They are very much appreciated.

Disclaimers: I don't own The Devil Wears Prada

Isolated Privacy

Andy watched Miranda walk away from her knowing that she should be feeling something beyond the angry void that had been growing from within her belly. The night had been...it had been bad and her previous days hadn't been much better. So, when Andy was sitting at home alone and that ball of anger and pain kept growing and the only thing keeping her company were her silent walls, she decided to get up and get out before she was lost in the empty spaces between her every breath.

Aquarius had left her phone number programed in Andy's cell phone just in case Andy needed someone to talk to or needed someone that would just listen, but Andy couldn't bring herself to dial the number. Aquarius, while present, was like a breath of fresh uncomplicated air, but from a distance Andy knew starting up a friendship with her best friend's gay cousin had tremendous potential to be a lot more complicated and a lot less worth the headache that would follow if Lily decided to get irrationally jealous or possessive.

So, Andy left her apartment and her body aimed itself in the direction of Miranda's house while her mind ran through the dinner she had shared with her parents. They had wanted her to move back in with them in Ohio since she had failed at making a life for herself in New York. She had no job. She had very little money. She had no relationship to speak of anymore. According to them, she had...nothing.

Andy was under thirty and had already failed at achieving her life's goals. They thought she needed a chance to heal her wounds and gather herself up for a career that she could hold onto. Of course, her parents had been a little more diplomatic with how they conveyed their worries. They had been nice enough to not call her a complete failure, but all their nice words boiled down to the same meaning, and Andy was left defenseless in their supportive onslaught.

She had opened her mouth to say something about selling an article to Runway, but she didn't want to bring up Miranda. She didn't want to discuss the editor with anyone. Andy didn't want to share her stories about their lunch together or what it had felt like to sit across from Miranda while the editor read over her article. She didn't want to talk about any of it. The recent phone calls and meetings she had with Miranda were, Andy had realized, unique and somewhat isolated from her real everyday world.

If she shared the conversations she had with Miranda then that isolated privacy would be broken and Andy would have to share the Miranda she was getting to know with everyone else. Andy's parents knew Miranda only as the tyrannical boss-lady that gave their daughter absurd tasks and endless headaches. Miranda was, in a way, evil and if Andy wanted to change their perception then she'd have to tell them how Miranda had listened to her when she had fought with Nate, and how Miranda had offered her advice when she was writing her article, and she'd have to say that Miranda was...three dimensional and was like everyone expected her to be while at the same time being exactly the opposite of those same expectations.

Andy didn't want her parents to know about that Miranda yet. She didn't want to share Miranda with anyone. So she was left defenseless in the face of her parents' worry. She had to silently concede to them that her life hadn't gone as she had hoped, and she had to promise to consider throwing in the towel and going back to Ohio while she got her life together so that she could perhaps one day come back to New York to live out a version of her dreams.

When Andy found herself standing outside of Miranda's town home, she laughed. It was sort of becoming an inevitable fact that she would end up outside of Miranda's home seeking out the one person she knew had answers to all of her questions. It was just as inevitable that Miranda would answer the door beautifully irritated, but would let her in anyway. Miranda hadn't closed the door on her yet, and Andy hoped that Miranda never would. She never had a plan B in the off chance that Miranda wouldn't answer her phone or open her door. Andy only ever had the single minded plan to seek Miranda out and then to just see what happened next.

She hadn't planned on asking Miranda for room and board. She hadn't planned on making any pleas about Miranda being the one person in all the world that understood her. Andy never thought that far ahead. Andy especially hadn't meant to ask Miranda who she turned to when her life was falling down around her, but as Andy watched Miranda walk away, she couldn't quite bring herself to regret asking Miranda something so personal.

That one idiotic question had been the secret password to Miranda's hospitality. It had held enough power to sway Miranda's cool rigidity, and Andy knew that now was the time for her to start consciously keeping track of all the things that would subtly break through Miranda's stiff facade. Learning about the woman beneath the Devil's makeup was the only way Andy could get assurance that Miranda would keep on opening her door, answering her phone, and accepting spontaneous lunch invitations.

Andy turned away from Miranda's retreating form before she got caught staring and opened the door to the room she had been lead to. Andy's hand fumbled along the wall looking for the light switch and when she found it and the light was turned on, Andy tried to call up that part of her that should be in awe of the grandiose setup she was given, but she just couldn't pull up the emotion. It was a room with a bed. Well, it was a big room with a huge bed and enough expensive furnishings that probably surpassed the value of all of Andy's possessions, but still...it was a room with a bed...in Miranda's home.

Andy closed the door behind her and walked directly to the bed. She kicked off her shoes and then fell onto the cushioned surface. Her body was tired. Her mind was tired, but she finally felt a little less angry and the void that had been building eased slightly.

Part of Andy thought that she should be incredibly freaked out that she was in Miranda's home lounging around like Goldilocks, but she had told that part of herself to shut up. Miranda was offering her sanctuary and Andy just needed to be thankful without questioning either of their motives. So, Andy closed her eyes, forcibly shut down her overactive mind, and then quickly fell into an exhausted sleep.

Andy woke up feeling completely out of place. It was like she was in Paris again, waking up to the unwelcome presence of a drunken one night affair. Her head hurt and she couldn't quite remember why she was wrapped up in foreign bed coverings that smelled nothing like Nate and only a little bit like her.

She sat up and pulled away the comforter and the sheets, glad to find that her body was still fully clothed. She sniffed the air one more time, realizing that the scent that surrounded her was familiar. It was Miranda. She was in Miranda's house and she hadn't broken in; Miranda had let her in and had let her stay.

Andy looked over at the covers she had pushed off of her body, then up at the ceiling. She couldn't remember turning off the lights or pulling the covers over her body. She had been too lazy to do either. Yet, the lights had been turned off and her body had been covered.

"This is too complicated to think about," Andy told herself as she swung her legs off of the bed. She walked to the bathroom and then looked through the drawers to find what she needed to clean up. Once done, she left the room and walked downstairs with every intention of leaving before she saw any member of the Priestly household, including Patricia, but was caught by a voice asking her, "What are you doing here?"

Andy slowly turned around and looked at the young girl who was patiently waiting for an answer. "I uh..." She didn't have an answer, not one that she could explain to any normal functioning being anyway. "Your mother let me stay."

"Why?"

"Um..." That was a good question. "Because I asked?"

"You're the girl that got us the Harry Potter book, right?"

Girl? Andy was a little thrown by the descriptor coming from a twelve year old. "Andy." She weakly smiled. "My name's Andrea but everyone calls me Andy."

"I've heard Mom call you Andrea."

"Well," Andy gave an awkward laugh, "your Mom isn't like everyone else."

The younger Priestly's head tilted slightly. "If you say so, I guess. So, what are you doing here? You don't work for Mom anymore."

"Your Mom is uh..." Andy cleared her throat. "She's helping me with...an article. I'm a journalist now."

"Mom is helping you?"

Andy wondered if the concept had sounded as absurd coming from her as it had coming from Miranda's child. "Yes."

"Cassidy, who are you talking to?" Miranda's other daughter called as she walked into the hallway.

"Mom's Andrea," Cassidy answered with a devious smirk on her face, making obvious her intention to follow in her mother's footsteps by calling Andy by the name not everyone else used.

Caroline looked over at Andy, recognition eventually showing in her blue eyes. "You're the one that got us that Harry Potter book."

Right then and there, Andy decided she liked Caroline more than Cassidy. "Yes, I am."

"She's a journalist now," Cassidy informed her sister. "Mom's helping her with an article."

Caroline shrugged at the news. "Okay." She turned to Andy. "Are you hungry? Mom said breakfast is ready."

Miranda cooked? Andy had always assumed that Miranda didn't know how. Just like she assumed that Miranda didn't know how to retrieve her own coffee or say 'thank you'. "I'm sure your mother didn't want me to stay for breakfast."

"No she did," Caroline replied. "She asked me to go upstairs and get you, but now I don't have to."

Caroline turned around and started walking away. Cassidy followed looking almost disappointed that her sister hadn't been as surprised by Andy's presence as she had been. Andy thought of just walking away, but she didn't want to be rude. Miranda had let her stay and had supposedly cooked food.

She followed Cassidy and Caroline through the house, being exposed to parts of Miranda's home she had never dared venture into before. They eventually reached the kitchen, where Miranda was doing something as bizarrely normal as pouring a glass of orange juice.

Miranda looked up and met Andy's open-eyed gaze. She didn't look away as she lifted up the glass of juice she had just poured and offered it over. Andy's hand reached out for the glass and her throat managed to garble out something that sounded similar to a thank you.

"Sit down," Miranda ordered.

Andy found the nearest chair and sat. She held her cup of juice firm in her hand as she watched Caroline and Cassidy take their seats at the breakfast table, as if their mother cooking for them was at least an every other day occurrence. They began eating and Andy couldn't help but stare at the odd acts of normality that were being displayed. She looked from Caroline to Cassidy to Miranda and then back around again waiting for one of them to announce that some sort of practical joke was being played out at her expense.

"I can assure you that I have not poisoned your food," Miranda said as she casually brought a forkful of egg whites to her mouth.

"Yeah," Cassidy smiled, "Mom hasn't poisoned anyone in a long time." Caroline laughed and Miranda rolled her eyes but said nothing to defend herself.

Andy forced herself to laugh and finally put down her cup of orange juice so that she could pick up her fork. "Th-thank you," she softly said, "for this and la-last night."

"What happened last night?" Cassidy asked.

"Nothing," Miranda quickly answered. "Now tell me what you two plan to do with yourselves now that you are no longer with your father."

"I don't know." Caroline pushed her food around on her plate. "I don't feel like doing anything."

"Well, I want to go out with Kaitlyn." Cassidy removed the turkey bacon from her plate and placed it onto her sister's. "She and I want to rehearse for the summer play."

"Oh," Miranda looked over at the pieces of meat her daughter had removed. "You want to audition? I thought we had decided you didn't have time for that."

Cassidy sighed. "Of course I can do it, Mom. We're back early so I have time now."

"When your father returns he might want you to join him for the rest of the summer."

Both girls stopped eating. "No." Caroline shook her head.

"What do you mean, no?" Miranda's voice lowered.

Andy looked down at her plate and shoved her fork into her mouth. She already felt like she was intruding and she couldn't help but wonder why Miranda hadn't already kicked her out. Miranda was an intensely private person and Andy was sure this was an invasion of that privacy.

"We want to stay with you," Cassidy hurriedly replied.

"I will speak with your father." Miranda wasn't agreeing to anything, even Andy understood that.

They continued eating, with silence winning over any other conversation that might have taken place. Cassidy didn't even seem interested in embarrassing Andy anymore and Caroline paid close attention to her food. Miranda finished eating and then excused herself from the table. She told the girls to clean up and that she would be leaving for work soon.

Andy watched Miranda walk out and then quickly followed. She found Miranda in her study looking out the window down at the yard below. "Where is your next article?" She asked not looking away from the image she had focused on outside.

"What?" Andy looked around her, just in case Miranda had been talking to someone else.

"You have written another article, haven't you?" The finger's of Miranda right hand trailed up her own leg to rest on her hip.

"No I...I," Andy stammered. "I haven't."

"Your personal difficulties give you no excuse for your laziness." Miranda told Andy's reflection.

"My...wh-what?" Andy looked back at the door she had just walked through. Had she unknowingly walked into a different reality like she had when she entered the kitchen?

Miranda slowly turned away from the window. "Should I assume you are not serious about your future?"

"My wh..." Andy shut her mouth before she committed the sin of repeating herself. Miranda was being absurd and unreasonable. "I think I should go home."

Miranda's lips pursed. "If you must."

Andy felt like Miranda had just slapped her across the face. "Can we just skip this...thing we're doing right now?" She asked giving into her defeat. "Will you just tell me what you want me to do?"

"I want so many," Miranda's fingers fluttered aimlessly, "things, Andrea."

That wasn't an answer, and Andy knew Miranda understood that. "I was th-thinking," Andy stepped further into Miranda's study, "of writing something about the mythology surrounding the idea of an apathetic youth."

Miranda ran her fingers across her lips. "Write it. I want to see it tomorrow."

Andy shook her head and smiled. Of course Miranda wanted her to write it by tomorrow. "Yes, Miranda."

"I don't understand why you must make everything so difficult, Andrea." Miranda moved away from the window.

The statement sounded so ridiculous coming from Miranda, but Andy suspected Miranda already understood that. It was probably part of the reason Miranda had said it in the first place. "Okay, I get it." Andy ran her fingers through her hair. "I shouldn't let what's going on in my personal life distract me from writing."

"I have no idea what you're blabbering on about." Miranda moved to her desk. "I must go to work. I assume you can find your way home." She picked up the Book off of her desk. "And that you will stay there tonight."

"Of course." Andy would force herself to stay in her silent apartment. She had already used up the bounds of Miranda's hospitality, and wasn't in the mood to push her luck any more than she already had. "It'll be a late night writing for me." She smiled. "So, if you need a door to knock on in the middle of the night, I'll be there to answer it."

Miranda's body stiffened. "Andrea, you obviously haven't gotten enough rest."

Andy dropped her head into her hands. "You know, I think you might be right." It had to be a sign of exhaustion if she was implying that Miranda would come to her apartment in the middle of the night.

"Email me your rough draft this evening." Miranda walked past Andy and out the door, clearly done with the conversation.

Once again, Andy was stuck with watching Miranda walk away unsure of what had just happened in the last few minutes of her life. She shook her head and then walked out of the study and then out of Miranda's home. Caroline and Cassidy had disappeared somewhere, and Andy was thankful that she didn't have to face them again. She made her way back to her apartment and intentionally ignored an incoming call from her father. She started to piece together parts of her article in her mind, glad to have something to focus on other than her personal life, and other than the fact that Miranda had allowed her to share their breakfast and might have, unthinkably, turned off the light and covered Andy's body with the blankets while she had been sleeping.