Part 22
Andy sits up in bed, disoriented about the unfamiliar room. She pushes long tresses of hair off her neck, feeling nearly suffocated. She must have tossed and turned. A soft whimper startles her and she glances to her right. Miranda is curled up on her side, facing away from Andy. Leaning in, Andy places a gentle hand on Miranda's shoulder. Miranda's trembling so much now, Andy can hear her teeth clatter.
"Miranda. Please. You're dreaming." Andy rocks her carefully. "Just a dream, okay?"
Miranda goes rigid and it is as if she has tied her body into a knot. Fearful now, Andy moves in closer and aligns her body with Miranda's, hoping that some shared warmth will permeate the woman next to her. Effectively spooning Miranda, Andy tucks her knees in behind hers and worms her left arm under Miranda's neck, and wraps her right around her upper body after tucking the covers tightly around them.
Miranda slowly stops shivering. Her breathing begins to calm down but is still shallow. She moves her arms restlessly until they hook around the one Andy has wrapped around her, pressing it to her.
"Are you awake?" Andy askes quietly. "You had a nightmare."
"C-cold." Miranda's voice is stark and raspy, not at all her usual silky way of talking.
"I'll have you warm in no time. Just try and relax." Andy presses her lips behind Miranda's ear.
"I was back on the ship to the colonies. So many faces around me below deck. Not the real faces of the passengers, but yours, Nigel's, Serena's, Emily's…and yes, Rosalee's, but not as a child, the way she looks now. You were all ill with the plague. I was the only one not affected by it—and you all blamed me. Called me a w-witch."
Her heart aching at the raw pain behind Miranda's words, Andy shifted and rolled Miranda toward her. She added a blanket from the foot of the bed, on top of the duvet, before taking Miranda in her arms again. "It sounds awful. Try to let it go. It was a dream."
Miranda doesn't reply but doesn't pull away either. She rests her head on Andy's shoulder and now her breathing is even and deeper. Andy wills herself to relax, only now realizing how Miranda startled her. She hates that Miranda is in such pain.
"What time is it?" Miranda asks huskily. She rolls onto her back and groans. "Damn, I did a number on my back."
Andy's gut reaction is to offer another back and neck rub, but she also knows that Miranda is proud and definitely not one to take kindly to being fussed over. "No idea. Wait." Andy goes up on her elbow and glances over to the rather old-fashioned clock radio on the nightstand on Miranda's side of the bed. "Two-thirty. Middle of the night."
"If I didn't know I'll need all the rest I can get, I'd go up and make coffee," Miranda mutters. "It's what I do in New York when I…can't sleep."
Ah. Miranda has nightmares and disturbed sleep patterns on a regular basis. "I put on a podcast and let whoever's talking lull me back to sleep," Andy says lightly. "My mind just doesn't know when to shut up sometimes."
"Really? A podcast? I can sometimes go back to sleep on the couch in front of the TV. It's almost the only time I watch the damn thing. If all else fails, I go down to my workshop and work on a project."
"I've been known to paint or draw in the middle of the night."
Miranda shifts and looks up at Andy, her eyes reflecting the night light from the hallway. "What has you so unsettled that you can't sleep, Andrea?"
The way Miranda speaks her name…does she know how much of a caress it is? Andrea…like something exotic and beautiful. Not the harsh enunciation that everyone else uses, putting the emphasis of the first syllable. "I lost a lot when I moved to New York. My parents gave me a year to "get my act together" and then use the scholarship to Harvard. They're both proud pro bono lawyers with quite the entourage in Cincinnati, and they have always expected me to join the firm. I do admire them. They're working for the people who cannot afford legal representation and they do deserve all the accolades. No doubt about that."
"But?" Miranda kisses Andrea's neck softly.
"But it was never my path. For me, art and art restoration comes in at shared first place. If I can't paint, or help rescue and restore paintings, I…I don't know. I have no plan B, really."
"And your parents?"
Andy sighs and hides her face against the top of Miranda's head. "They were already looking for an apartment for me, and setting up an internship at the firm, when I called to say I was still not returning to Ohio."
"And you hate disappointing them," Miranda spoke in a non-committal voice.
"I do, but it's not the first time. This is about my career, which is bad enough, I suppose, but when I came out and neither them nor most of my friends, understood or accepted, it really screwed with my mind. I suppose not wanting to be a lawyer was just another nail in the coffin."
"I'm sorry they weren't more understanding. Was it long ago?" Miranda smooths back Andy's hair.
"Second year in college. I kind of knew it wasn't going to go well, but hoped I was wrong. That it was just nerves."
"And instead you were right."
"Yes."
Andy is amazed at how easy it is to tell Miranda this. Perhaps because Miranda's told her such a fantastical tale about her past, nothing's off the table, pretty much.
Miranda nudges Andy over onto her back. "I don't know when I realized I could find my own gender attractive. It was perhaps during the civil war. It's been so long, I can't remember…what?" Miranda stares down at Andy.
"C-civil war." Andy tries to stop the slightly hysterical laughter from erupting. "I th-thought I was late in understanding things about myself…but you were a hundred?" She hiccuped. "I'm sorry. I'm not laughing at you. Honestly." Snorting, Andy buries her face in the pillow, trying to calm down, but the irresistible laughter keeps coming in wave after wave.
"I'm absolutely thrilled that you find this so amusing," Miranda says haughtily, but Andy can hear the smile in her voice. "Not to mention how wonderful it is to be the source of such mirth on your part."
Andy flings her arms around Miranda and pulls her close. It's as if the laughter has pushed them both past their respective ghosts…at least for now.
Miranda then pushes the anxiety even further away by pressing her lips to Andy's. The kiss doesn't allow for any other thoughts than how hard Andy is falling for Miranda, and how much she wants her. Slipping her hands under Miranda's sleep shirt that has ridden up over her hips, Andy finds smooth, warm skin. She spreads her fingers wide, wanting to cover as much of Miranda as possible, and returns the kiss by parting her lips and letting Miranda deepen it. Miranda nibbles and caresses with her lips and tongue and Andy reciprocates by exploring Miranda's mouth.
"You taste like some exotic fruit," Miranda murmur against Andy's lips. "You also make me forget about anything but you, and all I want is to drown in you. I want you to know that."
Hearing traces of regret, Andy wants to press Miranda closer to her, to keep her from withdrawing, but she can feel it's already happening. Miranda is too selfless to just take what she wants in this moment, and Andy understands but also hates this noble trait.
Miranda ends the heated embrace with sweeter kisses that calm, rather than ignite.
"I'd make love with you in a heartbeat if you'd let me," Andy whispers as they settle down among the pillows, duvets, and blankets."
"Oh, don't tempt me, Andrea." Miranda takes a deep breath. "You think too highly of my self-restraint."
"No, I don't. You're a woman of principle, though part of me wishes you weren't." Andy kisses Miranda's shoulder where the neckline has slipped and reveals the velvety skin. "And I'll do my best to be good."
Miranda doesn't answer, but moves in behind Andy, much like she had when Miranda was stuck in her nightmare and places a hand on Andy's thigh. Certain neither of them can go back to sleep, Andy settles for just enjoying being this closer to Miranda and relive the kisses in her mind, and that's what she does until she falls asleep, two minutes later.
xxxxx
Continued in part 23