I do not own any of the recognizable characters in this story, places either... This is merely an odd little crossover that my twisted brain came up with and then compelled my fingers to type.

This is a femslash story... there aren't any graphic love scenes though (sorry) so I think it should be rated at least PG-13. I really am terrible at rating these things though.

Many thanks to my myriad of beta readers, the all-knowing Kam, Quiethearted, ryoshu, shesgottaread, and Jazwriter... at least I think Jazzy read it... maybe, sigh I'm getting old and my mind is going.. ;) Anyway, I tweaked it after they read it... so any mistakes you find are mine, don't blame them. ;)

Now, on with the story.

Unspoken Fantasy pt 1

by Gin

"Da Plane! Da Plane!"

Fluffy white clouds floated through the brilliant blue sky. Mr. Roarke squinted up through the window at the sound of the bell in the tower signaling the seaplane's approach. He finished the form he was working on then left his office. Exiting the building at a leisurely pace, he smiled as his assistant joined him in front of the main house.

"Good morning, Boss."

"Good morning, Tattoo."

They climbed into the safari style, covered but open-sided, vehicle popular on the island and began the drive toward the dock. They arrived just as the hydroplane touched down on the water. As it taxied to the dock, the tall, gray haired man adjusted his black tie slightly then gestured to the gathered people. "Smiles, everyone... smiles!" He gestured for the musicians to begin, and buttoned the jacket on his white suit then waited for the first of the passengers to disembark. He grinned when his diminutive friend began the inevitable questions.

"I'm seeing double. Who are they, Boss? They look very young."

"That they are, my friend."

Tattoo continued watching the passengers emerge from the plane, "Is that their mother? The fashion lady?"

"It is indeed the, ah... fashion lady." He smiled at his small friend's term. "Her name, is Miranda Priestly. The twin girls are her sixteen year old daughters, Caroline and Cassidy. It is their fantasies that we have contracted to fulfill." He studied the trio carefully; the girls were taking in the sights as was Miranda. Miranda, however, was scanning the area while also speaking on the phone. Tattoo's comment was expected.

"What is their fantasy?"

"They each wish for different but similar things, the bulk of each girl's fantasy will require their mother to... relax and be... happy, for at least a little while." He studied the trio closely.

"That is easy, Boss. Who wouldn't relax and be happy spending time with their family here on the island?"

"That is true, but it will require more than that, and it is not as easy as it seems. Happiness can be found in all sorts of places, Tattoo. But you must be willing to accept it," His voice took on an introspective tone, "... or, risk it walking away." He caught Miranda's eye and gave her a chiding look. After only a few moments, she concluded her call and tucked her phone away in her purse. "It was the daughters who made arrangements for this trip and it will be more than just a weekend. Ms. Priestly and her daughters will be staying with us all next week, which is why we set up an office for Miranda's use. For any business that might need attended to while she is here on the island."

"What? The daughters arranged it? No, Boss... please tell me they didn't pay with their piggy banks. I have to balance the books you know? Paying more out than we bring in is..."

"Shhh..." Mr. Roarke smiled. "Calm yourself, my friend, they do not have piggy banks, they have trust funds. Both of their parents are quite wealthy and have provided ample finances for their daughters' futures. We have been well compensated for their stay. Your accounting books will reflect that soon."

"Thank goodness..."

After a slightly derisive, but tolerant, glance at Tattoo, Mr. Roarke turned his attention to the new arrivals. He accepted a glass of champagne from a waitress, as Miranda, Caroline and Cassidy also accepted their drinks. Champagne for Miranda, grape juice for the girls. "My dear guests, I am Mr. Roarke, your host." He held up his glass in a toast to them, "Welcome, to Fantasy Island."

"Mr. Roarke."

Stopping mid-step up to his house, Mr. Roarke turned to see one of his newest arrivals. "Yes, Ms. Priestly? Do your accommodations meet your approval?"

"Miranda, please, and yes, the suite is acceptable." She stepped up one step, to be eye level with the gray haired man, "I'm told you have an office set up for me. I would like to see it now."

"Oh." His smile faltered. "I had assumed after your journey here you would take the rest of the evening to settle in. With all the arrangements finalized this afternoon, I gave your assistant the rest of the day off." He gestured back down the steps. "This way," He guided her to a small hard packed dirt path, "I will show you the space myself."

"Very well." Miranda followed his lead to a small hut, secluded in a grove of trees. Once inside, Mr. Roarke demonstrated how the windowed doors on one entire wall folded open for a completely unimpeded view of the beach. Miranda was surprised, but didn't show it. "You believe this is an appropriate office?"

"It was the best we could do in the time we had." He indicated the desk and the computer setting on it. "All the equipment is state of the art, I assure you." He gestured toward the open wall, "and this way you can see your daughters on the beach. The doors, once closed, cannot be opened from the outside. It's all perfectly secure, no one will enter this room without your express authorization." His eyes crinkled at the edges when Miranda's gaze followed his hand and held on a figure walking toward them, across the sand. His lips twitched slightly even as Miranda's jaw went momentarily slack. "Ah, yes... the assistant I procured for you. I believe you are acquainted with her." His calculating eyes took in every tiny reaction on Miranda's face, as the young woman walked toward the hut.

Miranda blinked, and blinked again, but the vision refused to clear. Her mouth snapped closed then she licked her lips and barely whispered the name, "Andrea." It had been almost four years since she'd seen Andrea, walking down the sidewalk after waving awkwardly. Miranda drank in the sight of her. Andrea had always been quite tall but now seemed thinner than Miranda remembered. The outfit might have something to do with dispelling the illusion of weight. The wraparound skirt was low on her hips, well below her navel. The gap in the skirt gave tantalizing glimpses of a long length of tan, barefoot, leg as Andrea walked toward her. The bikini top was enough to cover the essentials, but far less than most bras would. Miranda's eyes were drawn to Andrea's face; tan and healthy, contrasting beautifully with her wavy dark hair. Bright white teeth appeared when Andrea smiled, the expression touching her eyes. Those eyes, Miranda's heart thumped painfully in her chest, dear God, those eyes. They haunted her dreams. Andrea moved closer and spoke, softly, almost bowing.

"Hello, Miranda." She stood, confident before her former boss. "I was walking on the beach and saw you here. Is there something I can do for you?"

"No." Miranda swallowed against the dryness of her throat and took a deep breath, "No, I simply wanted to inspect the facilities."

Mr. Roarke spoke up, "I trust everything meets with your approval."

"Yes..." Miranda didn't shift her gaze from Andrea's eyes, "It will do."

"Andrea was instrumental in the organization and layout of the office." Mr. Roarke smiled at the young woman, "She was quite insistent on... certain things."

Miranda was mesmerized by Andrea's laughter. It moved through her like a warm breeze, clearing away the cobwebs and filling spaces within her that had long been empty.

"The only thing I really insisted on was a coffee machine that made a decent brew." Andy smiled again, at Miranda. "Did you need me this weekend? Or shall I just meet you here on Monday morning?"

She didn't need to be here tomorrow, but found herself making arrangements to meet Andrea in the temporary office in the afternoon. For an hour or so, she had said, just to make sure things were going well back in New York. Andrea had almost bowed as she agreed, using the words that Miranda had only heard in her dreams for so long.

"Yes, Miranda." She tilted her head in a sort of goodbye gesture, "Mr. Roarke." Andy encompassed both people in her farewell. "Have a nice evening." Without another word, she turned and left the way she had arrived, walking barefoot across the sand.

Miranda watched Andrea walking away. As dumbfounded this time as she was that day in Paris, Miranda could only watch the young woman leave. The wrap-around skirt swayed gracefully as Andrea left. This time, however, Andrea would return. Tomorrow afternoon, Miranda would see the young woman again. At that time, Miranda thought as anger began to burn through the shock of seeing Andrea again, she will answer for her actions. Miranda's blood nearly boiled at the memory of that day on the steps in Paris. She will pay for leaving me.

After a fitful night's sleep, Miranda spent the morning distracted beyond all reason. Breakfast was a blur but she somewhat remembered a few bites of fruit and a lovely juice concoction. She had watched and even laughed at the girls' antics while they were playing in the ocean and surfing a little. She had been appropriately attentive to any and all of their requests, but the upcoming meeting with Andrea dominated the thoughts in the back of her mind. Lunch was another meal that she deemed delicious but ate only a few bites of, while nodding at the twins' animated renditions of their adventures on the beach that morning, recounting some of the little things they'd seen that Miranda, sitting in her beach chair, had been too far away to share.

When lunch was over, the girls wanted a lesson in hula dancing. Miranda had watched the dancers for a moment, then went to her temporary office. She walked through the door exactly fifteen minutes prior to the meeting time she had told Andrea. She stopped just inside when the spectacular view of the ocean and a familiar voice greeted her.

"Good afternoon, Miranda."

Focusing on the young woman, Miranda was again nearly speechless. Andrea's hair was pulled into a tight bun instead of the waves it had been allowed yesterday and the island garb was gone, replaced with very conservative business attire. It was a cream-colored power suit, with a knee-length skirt though, not slacks. The color and light fabric were both appropriate for the island conditions. A matching pair of pumps enveloped Andrea's feet.

The flash of anger she had experienced yesterday dissipated quickly. She'd never had any intention of punishing Andrea for her decision so long ago in Paris. Miranda had long since forgiven that choice. She had given her a recommendation that assured Andrea a job after all. Recalling all the sordid details of that time, Miranda knew that Andrea's walking away had as much to do with her own actions as it did with Andrea's growing sense of self. Miranda had given the young woman a choice. That was the way it was with choices. Once the decision was made, she had to live with it.

Miranda had learned not to give people choices unless she could live with all the possible outcomes. That was the main problem. The outcome of Andrea's choice, of Andrea walking away, was that Miranda no longer interacted with the brilliant, beautiful, engaging woman on a daily basis. The reaction to that consequence had surprised and dismayed her for a long time. Miranda found herself returning the smile Andrea graced her with and wondered how she had lived these past few years without seeing that every day. More than that, Miranda fleetingly wondered how she would live without it after this trip was over. "Good afternoon, Andrea." She went into semi-Dragon Lady mode. "Do you have reports from New York?"

"Yes," Andy moved to meet Miranda in the middle of the room and handed her a folder she'd been holding. "Nigel says everything is going smoothly there."

"Hmmm..." Miranda had her doubts about that assessment. She slid her glasses into place as she flipped open the folder and moved to her temporary desk. As she sat, Andrea moved to stand in the doorway connecting the small room with a tiny kitchenette space.

"Miranda?" Andy smiled as her boss looked up over the top of her glasses. "Coffee?"

Nodding at that, Miranda resumed her perusal of the folder and its contents. Amazingly, Nigel's assessment of the office status was correct, things were going smoothly there. Of course it was Saturday, they would have to wait and see what Monday brought for a true glimpse of Runway's operational status. "Did Nigel send the pictures from the latest shoot?"

"Yes, Miranda." Andy carried a fresh coffee from the kitchenette, setting it on the desk in front of Miranda, then retrieved the pictures in question. "He sent a note with his thoughts on each model's suitability..."

"Mmm..." Miranda opened the folder containing the pictures. Nigel's note was set aside immediately. "I will look them over myself first. Then I shall see what Nigel's recommendations entail."

"Of course, Miranda." Andy returned to her small desk and waited for Miranda's next order.

Miranda looked at the same page of photos for ten full minutes. The silence in the room was only broken by the occasional ocean wave breaking against the rocks a hundred or so yards away. It was not awkward, or uncomfortable but finally, Miranda broke the silence.

Dispensing with the pretense of looking at the Runway items, Miranda focused on Andrea. "Why are you here?"

Taking a deep breath, Andy licked her lips and nodded, as if she had known the question was coming. "I'm here, because Mr. Roarke said you needed me."

"Needed you?"

"Mmm..." Andy smiled, "He explained that you would be here on the island for a week and would need a temporary assistant. He didn't feel that any of his own people knew you and Runway protocols well enough nor did he believe that any of your other former assistants were appropriate, because you had fired them, or because you had promoted them and they were currently busy."

"And you weren't... busy?" Miranda had kept tabs on Andrea, for a while. The young woman's work at the Mirror had improved steadily until the paper had folded three years ago. "Did you not find other employment after the Mirror closed its doors?"

"I did." Andy nodded, "But the nature of my current job doesn't involve schedules so much as it does deadlines." She shrugged, "I don't have any deadlines looming, not like you have with Runway."

"Well," Miranda chewed on that information, "Aren't I the lucky one then?" Her breath caught as Andrea's smile widened.

"I'm glad you think so, Miranda." Andy looked as though she was about to say more when a motion outside caught her attention. She stood quickly when a figure began walking up from the beach toward the office. "Excuse me for a moment, Miranda." She didn't wait for Miranda's nod and walked toward the new arrival.

Miranda watched as Andrea approached the woman nearing the open side of the office. For half a moment she thought the woman might be Andrea's mother. The wavy salt and pepper hair cascading around her shoulders indicated an older woman even though the body attached seemed very fit, encased in a one piece swimsuit, under a flimsy wrap. A former model perhaps, Miranda thought. They exchanged words and then it quickly became apparent that the woman was not Andrea's mother. The embrace they shared and the kiss the woman bestowed on Andrea's lips was anything but maternal, that Andrea seemed to return the gesture whole-heartedly confirmed the conclusion. Unbidden, a wave of profound sadness swept through Miranda. There was no time to think about it though, as Andrea returned to the office.

"I apologize, Miranda. She won't come here again."

Unable to form a complete thought, Miranda merely nodded and returned her attention to the file in front of her. She wasn't concentrating on the pictures at all, instead, her mind continued to replay the memory of Andrea and the unnamed woman's parting kiss. Why would Andrea allow that, participate in that? Why would she associate romantically with someone obviously so much older? Andrea is young and beautiful. She could have her pick of anyone. Miranda was certain no one would be able to refuse her ex-assistant if Andrea wanted to be with them. Closing the file, Miranda cleared her throat. "This is interrupting your plans."

"No, Miranda. It's fine." Andy smiled, "Susan knew I would probably have to work while she was here."

The phrasing didn't register as Miranda was stuck on the name, "Susan."

"Yes, Miranda." Andy only elaborated slightly, "She made dinner reservations for us this evening, at a highly recommended restaurant then she wants to go dancing. Working this afternoon will not interrupt those plans in the least."

"Dinner and dancing." Miranda inexplicably felt warm all over. "How romantic."

The beautiful smile Andrea flashed made Miranda jealous even though she wasn't sure exactly what she was jealous of; the idea of having a romantic partner in general, or the idea of Andrea being that person. Ambiguous emotions didn't set well with Miranda and she'd had her fill of that for today. She needed to leave, be with her girls, regain a semblance of decorum. Setting the file aside, Miranda stood, heading for the door, calling over her shoulder as she left. "Monday at eight. That's all."

Sad dark eyes watched Miranda leave and Andy bit her lip slightly as she sighed, "Yes, Miranda."

"C'mon, Mom." Caroline tempted her mother in a sing-song voice, "They're supposed to have great steaks..."

"Oh?" Miranda was unmoved, continuing to read the book of poetry she'd discovered on the bookcase in the living area of their suite. "And to which young island worker's opinion am I trusting my dining experience this evening?"

Cassidy laughed at her sister's frustrated expression, "Ha! She got you, Ro!" She punched her sister in the arm lightly and shrugged toward their mother, "I doubted the guy Ro was flirting with so I asked around. Everyone said the restaurant was new but wonderful, so I made late reservations for us. It's nearly time to go." She saw that her mother was still wearing the outfit she'd put on for her time at the office. "Would you like to change?"

"Mmmm... yes." Miranda closed the book and headed toward her bedroom, "I won't be a moment."

Unsure why she was doing it, Miranda changed into a less formal dress. It was not often that she was allowed the opportunity to dance, and it was not something that would likely occur this evening, but she knew that this dress would be lovely for dancing. The backless design would allow her dance partner unprecedented contact with her, if she were to have a partner. The hem nearly reached her ankles and she knew, if she were to dance, the skirt would flow beautifully with the motion and not catch on her heels.

"Wow, Mom! You look great." Cassidy grinned and gave her mother a quick hug. "Ready?"

"Mmm..." Miranda eyed the dresses her daughters had chosen for this evening and tried not to be critical of their length. They ended just above the girl's knees but were, technically, still cocktail dress length, so she remained silent on the subject. The girls were sixteen now and perfectly capable of dressing themselves appropriately. They were also, Miranda admitted to herself, quite beautiful and were at the age that they wanted to showcase their beauty. It was her influence that allowed that display to be done tastefully. She didn't miss the exchanged grin between the girls and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Shall we go?"

The steak was wonderful, Miranda admitted to herself. The restaurant was also very nice, rivaling anything New York, or anywhere else in the world she had been, had to offer. Apparently the help was quite engaging as well. Miranda watched as Caroline caught the eye of yet another busboy. "Bobbsey, you shouldn't distract the young man while he's working."

Cassidy giggled. "Really Ro, geez give it a rest."

"I wasn't doing anything!" She sighed and pushed her chair away from the table, "C'mon, Cass... let's go freshen up."

Shooting a glancing grin at their mother, Cassidy obediently rose to follow her sister to the rest room.

Miranda continued with her meal, almost finishing it before pushing the plate slightly away. A motion to her left caught her attention. She turned to see their host standing next to the table. He bowed slightly.

"Hello, Ms. Priestly. I trust you are enjoying your stay here on the island."

"Miranda, please and yes, Mr. Roarke," Miranda nodded, "it's quite lovely here."

"Mom!"

Miranda turned to see her daughters walking quickly to the table.

"Mom... there's going to be a party on the beach. Can we go?" In a move that was surely rehearsed, and perfected over time, both girls turned on the puppy dog eyes and chorused, "Please."

At Miranda's sigh, Mr. Roarke chuckled. "That plea would be a difficult thing to resist."

Mumbling, "You have no idea." Miranda interrogated the girls. "Where is this party to be held, and who is going to be there?" At the girls silence, Miranda took a guess, "The cute busboy who noticed you earlier, Caroline?"

Suppressing a grin, Mr. Roarke spoke up again, "Many of the younger people gather at the beach in the evening for music and dancing. It's all in good fun and they are all well-behaved. There are often several adults there as well. The majority of the usual crowd should be assembled by now. I shall accompany you to the site if you wish to see for yourself." He offered his hand to assist Miranda out of her seat.

Standing without his assistance, Miranda took his hand and nodded. "Acceptable." She tried not to sigh as the girls ran on ahead.

The bonfire illuminated the beach. Its red glow cast flickering shadows on the surrounding area. Miranda stumbled slightly as her heels sank into the sand as she walked onto the beach. Without missing a beat, she walked out of the pumps. She stopped momentarily to pick them up before continuing on toward the celebration.

There were musicians playing, although a large electronic system stood by for when they took breaks. A long table was laid out with several different snack type foods and a variety of drinks, none of which seemed to be alcoholic in nature. What fascinated Miranda the most was a large wooden platform that had been set up for dancing. All the dancers flowed to the music gracefully, not like the jumping atrocity people often called dancing these days. Her eye caught sight of Caroline already dancing with a smiling young man. Cassidy stood on the sidelines laughing but shaking her head at her sister's antics.

"As you can see," Mr. Roarke's accented tone cut smoothly through the revelry, "It is all in good fun." A man dressed in the uniform of the island workers approached them. Mr. Roarke accepted a slip of paper the aide handed him and sighed as he read it. "My apologies, Miranda. There is a matter I must attend to."

"Mmmm..." Miranda barely acknowledged her host's departure as she watched the young man twirl Caroline around. Then there was a gap in the dancers and Miranda could see through to the middle of the dance area. Her heart skipped a beat when she realized what she was seeing; Andrea, dancing with that woman. She watched the couple gliding around the dance area until the song began to fade. Andrea looked wonderful, so smooth and assured, she had matured quite a bit since her tenure at Runway. For some reason, it endeared the young woman to her, even more that she already was. It was an admission she rarely made, even to herself. Despite Andrea's reassurances regarding her employment after the Mirror closed its doors, Miranda knew it could not have been easy. Surviving in New York was a daunting prospect, without a job it was even more so. To come through that hardship with as much poise and grace as Andrea had exhibited here on the island was enough to impress Miranda beyond words. Miranda saw Andrea glance in her direction and speak quickly to her dance partner before moving across the space to stand before her.

"Miranda," Andy bowed slightly at the waist. "Is there something I can do for you?" She indicated the refreshment table, "It's a warm night...a drink perhaps?"

Licking her lips, Miranda could only nod as an answer. Up close, Andrea was even more beautiful now than Miranda had ever seen her. It was the glow on her skin from the slight perspiration and the light from the moon and bonfire that made all the difference. She followed Andrea's graceful motion toward the table, not realizing another person had moved closer as well. When Andrea returned with her drink, Miranda was shocked to feel the young woman's fingertips brush hers as the cup was passed over. Andrea's hands were warm and soft. She sipped the offering and nodded, "Thank you, Andrea. This is delicious."

"You're welcome." Andy stepped away, almost automatically wrapping her arm around Susan's waist. "If you need anything else, Miranda, just let me know."

Miranda nodded and narrowed her eyes as Andrea's companion spoke for the first time within her hearing.

"Come on, Petal. Dance with me..."

Watching Andrea being led back to the dance floor, Miranda replayed the English accented phrase in her head and murmured to herself. "Manchester..." The music changed to an old-fashioned type dance, one Miranda knew. Walking forward, she grabbed Cassidy by the hand and put her shoes back on the second she stepped onto the wooden platform. The girls had taken enough dance lessons for Miranda to know for certain Cassidy knew this one too.

Judging the space, Miranda insinuated them into the moving mass of swirling dancers and returned her daughter's grin as they fell into step with the music. The complicated steps had the dancers weaving through each other, often switching partners for a time, before moving on. That was how, every so often, Miranda found herself dancing with Andrea. During the dance there was no time to think about the softness of Andrea's hands, or the warmth in her eyes. But at the end of the dance, there were at least thirty seconds that she was able to look into Andrea's dark eyes and feel Andrea's soft hand in hers. When the music ended, Miranda basked in the warmth of Andrea's sun-bright smile.

"You're a wonderful dancer, Miranda."

"You aren't so bad yourself." Miranda's smile, while not as brilliant as Andrea's, was genuine. The music started again, a slower song for couples only. For a moment, she thought how incredible it would be to dance this dance with Andrea as well. For a moment, it was all Miranda wanted in the world. For a moment she had the distinct impression Andrea felt the same way. Instead, they walked to the sidelines. Cassidy met them at the edge of the platform.

"Wow, that was fun." She looked at Andy and blinked. "I know you."

Smiling, Andy nodded and laughed. "Yes, I used to be your mother's assistant."

"You are my assistant now." Miranda corrected. "And there is something I would like you to do for me."

"Of course, Miranda." Andy barely glanced at the dancers. Susan had found another partner for this song. "What is it?"

"I find myself quite tired, but I'm sure the girls would like to stay for a while." Miranda grinned as Cassidy groaned. "Make sure they stay out of trouble, and that they get back to our bungalow by midnight?"

Also chuckling at Cassidy's subvocal protests, Andy never took her eyes off Miranda. "Of course. Whatever you need." She spoke quickly as Miranda turned to leave. "I will require additional payment for this service, however, because it doesn't fall within my normal duties as assistant."

Slowly turning back to focus on the young woman, Miranda raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Indeed? What is the going rate for childcare, Andrea?"

Licking her lips, Andy's eyes twinkled with mischief, "One dance."

"Don't you already have a dance partner?"

"She is... occupied." Andy gestured to the woman in question who was clearly happily dancing with a tall handsome man.

Miranda considered the terms as she tried to control her heart rate. Dancing with Andrea... dare I? The current song was nearly over and the next song would invariably be one with a faster tempo. With a quick nod, Miranda agreed. "Acceptable." She allowed Andrea to take her hand, leading her back out onto the dance platform just as the last of this song faded.

To Miranda's surprise the music that began after the short pause was just as slow or slower than the one that had just ended. Her brain began to buzz as Andrea's long arms wrapped around her. The young woman's soft hands made contact with the small of her back. Stifling a gasp at the electric sizzle running up her spine, Miranda allowed herself to be drawn closer, allowed her arms to wrap around Andrea's waist, allowed her cheek to rest against Andrea's shoulder. This wasn't a dance in the truest sense of the word, this was merely swaying together to the music. What they had done before was a dance, this, was not. Miranda closed her eyes and savored the feel of Andrea's warmth pressing against her, the sensation causing heat to concentrate just below her navel. No, this was not a dance, Miranda knew, this was the best foreplay she'd ever experienced. The shame of it was that wouldn't go any farther than this but at this moment, she wished it could last forever.

The idea of being with a woman was not exactly foreign to her, she worked in the fashion industry after all, but she was certain Andrea would never want that type of relationship with her. Would she? Andrea obviously has no problem with women, even older women. The problem was that she, Miranda, wasn't just any older woman. She was Andrea's former boss. One that had treated Andrea abysmally when the young woman had worked for her. It did, however, feel very good to be in Andrea's arms. Miranda chided herself, Best not go there... just take what you can get. Savoring the moment, Miranda tried to memorize every detail of the dance. The way Andrea's warm body pressed against hers, the way the arms around her made her feel safe, the way Andrea's hair brushed against her cheek, every detail up to and including the young woman's incredible scent, the one that made Miranda want to breathe deeply and never let go, were burned into Miranda's memory. Turning her head, Miranda only just stopped herself from kissing Andrea's long, luscious neck. Shocked by the urge to place that kiss, Miranda only barely managed to continue swaying to the music.

All too soon the music faded and Andrea moved away. Miranda felt the loss immediately and imagined that Andrea had hesitated before breaking their contact. Wishful thinking, she told herself, Just because you want to continue the contact doesn't mean Andrea does. As if Andrea could hear her thoughts, Miranda erased them by clearing her throat and stepping away as well. "Yes, well... now that your fee is paid. I will be going." She couldn't look into those huge dark eyes, but knew they were watching her as she slipped off her shoes and made her way across the sand. Andrea's acknowledgment followed Miranda off the dance floor.

"Yes, Miranda."

Andy watched Miranda step off the wooden area and in barely a whisper, added, "Sweet dreams."

On the slow walk back to the bungalow, Miranda convinced herself that she did not hear a tinge of sadness in Andrea's voice as she left the party, nor did she hear Andrea wish her "sweet dreams". No, she was certain that little bit of valediction had to have been her imagination. As she went through her nightly routine, Miranda couldn't help but wonder what exactly Andrea was doing at that moment. Dancing with that Susan person most likely. Shaking off thoughts of what the two might be doing later that night, Miranda curled around her pillow and closed her eyes. It was much better to focus on pleasant thoughts. She recalled how Andrea's arms felt as they slid around her and tried not to dwell on the fact that she would probably never feel that sensation again.