A/N: I know, I know. Another new fic, and not finishing the old ones. But I've got an idea here, and this one is nearly completely written. So I'm just going to be uploading a chapter a week. Hopefully, there will be updates for the older fics as this goes along. I've seemingly recovered my muse.
As for the length of time between stories: I got dumped, got a new job, had elbow surgery, and had to move. So really, a lot in a few months. But onwards!
Andy sighed. Here she was nearly a year into her dream job. Being a journalist. It had seemed like such an obvious choice in college. She liked to write and tell stories so why not turn that into writing for a paper? By now she thought she'd be dipping her toes into political stories, human rights issues or anything but obituaries and pieces on fashion.
Would she ever escape Runway? Apparently not. This was why she found herself sitting on a bench in Central Park at 2 PM when she should be on her lunch. At least the park was calming with its constant sounds of people running, playing and laughing. She took a bite of the hot dog she'd bought from a vendor and frowned as a drop of mustard nearly landed on her pant leg. She wiped it up quickly, not wanting to stain her one nice pair of jeans.
A commotion at the edge of her vision caught her eye. She smiled involuntarily. A photo shoot for some fashion thing no doubt. She wondered if it was Runway but shook that thought from her head. If it was Runway Miranda would no doubt be here overseeing.
She stared at the people unloading lights, and the models who were wearing what was no doubt couture.
"What are you doing, I told you we were using the Dior and the Chanel dress, not this- thing."
The voice cut through Andy's thoughts. Now she was imagining hearing Miranda. She looked over, trying to determine if the silver haired editor was indeed there. So far she could only see various models and people who were clearly photography staff. Though there was still potential for someone to be standing behind the trailer of equipment. As if summoned by that thought, she saw a familiar shock of silver hair come around the corner.
As she caught sight of the silver haired editor, seemingly walking closer to her, she felt a lump in her throat. She wasn't prepared to talk to her at all. Not after what she'd done in Paris. Sure she had needed to leave, but really, she could have waited until fashion week was over and not thrown her company phone in the fountain. Miranda glanced over, lips pursing as if seeing something she didn't like before continuing over while staring at her phone.
"What are you doing here? Don't you know this is a closed area?" Miranda spoke at her without looking up from her phone, on which she was apparently trying to manage another crisis no doubt. Her voice was just as demanding as Andy remembered.
"Ha ha." Andy laughed, her voice coming out squeakier than she'd like. "I didn't realize- I come to this spot a lot during my lunch. Sorry Miranda."
She watched as Miranda's face snapped to her, "Andrea." Miranda's eyes looked her up and down, exactly as they had every day she'd worked for the woman. Andy couldn't help but smile. She'd missed Miranda's daily appraisal of her outfits.
The way the editor said her name, so unique, made Andy's heartbeat just a bit faster. She could feel her face flush as Miranda continued to look at her. Of course she'd be nervous facing her again. She wasn't sure what to expect.
Miranda looked over her former assistant. She hadn't lost the fashion sense she'd gained while in her employ. She wasn't wearing the latest couture pieces as she had no access to the Closet any longer. On a cub reporters' salary, she seemed to be doing just fine with her outfits. What caught her attention though was that Andrea looked drained, unhappy. Even the smile that she had now seemed so far away from what Miranda would receive every day. What was wrong with the young woman? She didn't want to see her unhappy. She scoffed internally. Why should she care about the young woman who'd abandoned her during the busiest week of her career?
"I'm surprised to see you here, Andrea. I thought you'd be chasing down leads for your next story."
She watched as Andrea blushed. "Yes, well, I do have a lunch break Miranda. Usually, the park is a nice place to think, get ideas."
Miranda nodded. "So, Greg is treating you well then?"
She watched Andrea's eyes, usually so expressive cloud over in contrast to the words she spoke. "Yeah, and thank you for that recommendation, Miranda. I know you could have just said nothing."
She waved away the compliment and stood in silence. Oddly, it was comfortable. Especially between an ex-boss and the employee who quit so unceremoniously. Andrea's words made her wonder what the woman had been writing. She hadn't kept up on her career as closely as she had hoped to, given the numerous problems at Runway.
"So, what terrible thing has brought you out to Central Park to supervise?"
Miranda's lips twitched. She would not give this woman a smile, even if she was amusing her. Andrea's cheek was one of the things she missed most about the woman.
"Well, I had my assistant," she rolled her eyes, "check on the permits for DUMBO but it seems she didn't get confirmation so now we're stuck here. Trying to shoot the cover. The issue is due out in two weeks. An error you would never have made."
Andrea grinned at her, her brown eyes reflecting the happiness she felt from the compliment. "Well, not everyone can do what I can."
"Indeed." Miranda bit her lip, studying the young woman. Had such a small compliment truly made Andrea happy?
"So now I'm stuck with two assistants who can barely seem to manage the phones. I need someone who can handle the many things that need to be done before Paris." Miranda looked back to her phone, typing for a few moments before speaking again.
"I wouldn't be surprised if I had no assistants by the time Fashion week comes."
She watched as Andrea opened her eyes in shock. "Well, we can't have that Miranda. It's the busiest week for you." The young woman looked as if she wanted to add more to the statement.
"It truly is a shame you're gone Andrea. I could use an assistant like you now."
Andrea's eyebrow raised in what Miranda thought was a perfect imitation of her own. Would Andrea ever come back to work for her? Would she want her to? She had missed the brunette's smile and problem-solving ability. An idea came to her in an instant. Miranda thought back to the week leading up to Paris and the words she'd used with Andrea then. She hoped that this wouldn't blow up on her, "I need my best team in Paris. That no longer includes Emily."
Both of Andrea's eyebrows raised and she looked as if her eyes were going to pop out of her head. "Are you, are you,"
"I see your vocabulary hasn't improved Andrea. I thought you were an up-and-coming journalist now." Miranda was biting her lips so hard she could nearly taste blood. She would not smile. She wanted to know what Andrea's reaction would be.
"Are you asking me to come back to Paris with you? As your assistant?"
Miranda sat on the bench next to Andrea. She turned to look at the woman. "You know how I hate repeating myself, Andrea, but you could do better than both of my assistants. Even having been gone for a year."
She watched as Andrea nodded absently. "Right." The brunette looked down at her phone. "I-I don't know Miranda. I've got to talk to my editor and, really decide if I could."
"Of course, Andrea. I expect to see you in my office at the end of your workday. We can continue this conversation there." She rose from the bench, feeling a wave of annoyance flash over her as she saw her second assistant, Lilly, Lana, something, approaching. Of course, Andrea noticed.
The brunette stood from her seat next to Miranda, reaching her hand out. "Hello, you must be Emily. I'm Andrea, Miranda's former assistant."
The skinny blonde nodded, taking Andrea's hand. "Lilly," she turned to Miranda, "Ms. Priestly, do you need anything?"
Miranda's eye twitched at the name. Andrea winced. "Trust me, call her Miranda. If you would be so kind as to get a tall latte, extra hot, and a blueberry muffin, I'm sure that would be the best thing you could do."
The authority in Andrea's voice surprised Miranda. She nearly sounded like herself. The thought made her smile internally. As she noticed the assistant standing there, she shook her head.
"Well what are you waiting for? I do hate repeating myself."
She watched as the young woman practically sprinted away with a confused look and could not help a laugh, hearing Andrea laughing as well.
"Well Miranda, it was great to see you. I must get back to my office, but don't hesitate to call me if you need anything." She took a business card from her purse, quickly scribbling what Miranda assumed was her personal number on the back.
Miranda nodded, pleased to see Andrea looked more like herself. She was also happy, knowing that Andrea would be back to see her in the evening. But why, what did Andrea have to do with making her happy. It had to be knowing that once she returned, things would be running smoothly once again. She could afford to relax if Andrea was running the office. After what she'd done in Paris last year to warn her about Irv, she could trust Andrea not to betray her.
She was however, baffled that the young woman was leaving without the muffin.
"Andrea?" The brunette stopped as she was walking away.
"Yes, Miranda?" Both women smiled at the phrase.
"The muffin?" Miranda looked at her, waiting for an answer.
"They're your favorite and seeing this, you probably need something sweet." With those words, Andrea waved, heading towards the offices of The Mirror.
Miranda was at once taken aback and pleasantly surprised. Andrea would know that about her.
Andy knocked on the door to her editor's office, not surprised when he didn't look up from the papers on his desk before telling her to enter. She was nervous, hoping this would go well.
"Hey boss, I needed to ask you about something."
Greg nodded, "Of course, what's up Andy?" He looked up at her quickly, before returning to the article he was editing.
"I quit." Greg's face snapped up look at her.
Andy just continued. "I'm just tired of writing things that don't interest me. I know, I know, it takes time to get approved to write an article, but I've been here nearly a year and still don't have more than two full stories published."
He dropped the papers and focused on her intently. "If that's what you want Sachs. I'm sorry we couldn't make this work out. Have you lined up anything for yourself?"
Andy couldn't help the grin that broke free and nodded. Why the hell did the thought of working for Miranda make her feel happier than her dream career? It had to be because Miranda needed her.
"Yup. Remember Miranda Priestly?"
The man blinked twice, "Yes, she gave you your reference here. Editor of Runway. Who doesn't know her Sachs?"
Andy fiddled with her fingers as she spoke, thinking back to her first meeting with Miranda where she was clueless. "She offered me a position as her only assistant for fashion week. I was thinking I could go and maybe write a piece or two while there."
Her editor sighed. He looked surprised to see her smile. "You look happy about going to work for her kid. Look, I can't promise anything more than an article in the fashion section for you. I wish we could have made this work out Andy, but I'll be honest. There've been some talks about cutting the budget and you would have been the first to go."
Andy blinked. She hadn't expected that. "Oh. Well thanks Greg. I'll be in touch about the article. I was hoping I could use my vacation time for the next two weeks until my last day."
He nodded. "I'll approve it. But Sachs, if we could have you come back, you know we'd be happy to have you. Maybe after this recession. People aren't reading papers like they used to."
Andy thanked the barista for the coffee, carrying a tray out the door and across the street to the Elias Clark building. Thank goodness she'd known everyone at the Starbucks. Apparently, they'd thought, correctly, she was bringing Miranda her coffee once again. She wondered what they made of the year long gap between her ordering coffee.
As she crossed the lobby, the security guard caught her attention.
"Andy! I see you're back with us." He handed her a badge so she could get up to Runway's floor.
She grinned. "At least for a few weeks. It was great to see you Dan, hope your kids are doing well." At that she slipped into the elevator, surprised by the feeling of rightness riding back into Miranda's domain.
Andy was surprised at the number of workers who stopped what they were doing to stare and then whisper as she walked by. She made her way to Miranda's office, surprised to see Emily sitting at the first assistant's desk. As far as she knew, Emily was now with Nigel in the art department.
The redhead noticed her and turned pale. "Oh no, no, no, no. I'm not letting you in there. I don't know how you got that badge, but no. She was unbearable after you left."
"Hi Em. Is she in?" Andy decided to ignore most of the redhead's monologue, placing the coffee tray on her desk and picking up two coffees.
"She is. But you're not on the schedule. I told you I wasn't going to let you in." Emily rolled her eyes as Andy ignored her and stepped forward, knocking lightly on the door and handing Miranda her center of the sun latte.
"Ah! Andrea! I was hoping you would be here sooner than later. I am almost ready to head out for the day." The silver haired woman took her coffee, sipping it and looking beyond Andrea towards the door, an amused glint in her eyes.
Andy nodded. "Of course Miranda. As soon as I finished work, I ran over. I thought you would appreciate a coffee as we talked."
Andrea watched as Miranda tried not to smile. "Thank you." A strangled noise came from the front office and Andy laughed softly wondering what Emily's face looked like.
"I do have one thing to… clear with you. Before anything else. Greg, my editor, offered to publish any piece I write on fashion week in the Mirror. After he told me I was about to be laid off."
Andy was surprised when Miranda grinned, the smile making her face seem years younger.
"Good. We will discuss this later. I'm sure you could do better than a single article Andrea."
Miranda looked up, beckoning someone into the room. A nervous looking IT guy, Jeff, Andy thought was his name, approached. She wondered absently if Miranda was happy that she had been about to be laid off, or the article.
"Here ma'am. As you asked. A new laptop and phone for you." He practically ran out of the room after her set the electronics on the desk and Andy couldn't help her laughter.
Miranda raised an eyebrow at Andy, who stopped laughing right away. She took the electronics and handed them over to Andy. She was surprised by the action but realized she shouldn't be. Miranda did things based on her own whims.
"Try not to lose this one in a fountain, darling." At that Miranda stood, leaving a gaping Andy watching her. "Bring my dry cleaning and the book once it's done. We'll talk about everything at the townhouse."
She walked out of her office, leaving Andy feeling discombobulated in the seat. She heard Miranda's 'coat, bag' and the click of her heels as she left the office. Andy stood, wondering what would be waiting for her to do.
"So, Ahn-drey-ah, you come back and get right into business." Emily was staring at the brunette. Her tone belayed the jealousy she felt at Andy being hired once more.
"Yes, well she made me an offer I couldn't refuse." Andy gathered the electronics, stowing them in her messenger bag.
"How was it really Em?" She sat at her old? new? desk and couldn't help but notice it seemed like no one else was using it. It was as pristine as it was her first day.
"She's been going through over two assistants a month Andy. No one has lasted longer than a month since you left. And, well, it was hard to hear Andrea would never do that, every time a mistake was made."
Andy whistled. She was privately amused Miranda had inadvertently compared everyone to her. "No wonder she wants me back here."
Emily silently handed Andy the key to Miranda's townhouse. Andy couldn't help wonder if Miranda ever changed her lock as she still had the original key she'd been given by Emily. "The book should be done at 8. Thank goodness you returned, because I am so tired of being her assistant again instead of in the art department," Emily paused, "Although if you tell anyone I'll deny I ever said that."
"Of course Em. Wouldn't want it to seem like you actually like me."
Andrea turned to the computer on her desk, setting up her new login. She looked over the schedule and was halfway through programming designers numbers into her cell phone when a voice interrupted her.
"Six! What brings you back to the Dragon's domain? I thought you ran off in Paris and yet, here I am, having to pick out a new wardrobe for you." Nigel grinned at her, holding two garment bags towards Andrea.
"Hey Nige, I've missed seeing your face." Andrea grabbed the bags, wanting to know what Nigel had picked out.
"Oh no no. Not until you tell me how Miranda got you to return." He smirked at her, clearly waiting.
Andy set the bags down, looking at Nigel. "She just asked me to come back and work for her again. We ran into each other at Central Park and after she told me about what her assistants were like I figured I couldn't do worse." She stared at her desk, "Plus you know I can't say no to her. I care, y'know?"
Nigel smiled, as if he knew a secret Andrea didn't. "Of course you do Six. You know she hasn't kept an assistant for long since you left? I think she missed having you around."
Andrea chuckled, tugging on her fingers. "Well would you believe I'd rather be here than working at the Mirror? I wasn't doing any big articles, really."
Nigel took off his glasses, cleaning them. She realized he was trying to find the right words to speak. "Then I wish you all the luck Six. I'm just grateful you'll be here. She'll be calmer knowing she doesn't have to double check her assistant's work. I'm off to get a drink. You should join sometime."
Andrea nodded. "Of course, I'm sure I'll be able to get out of here early some night. My number hasn't changed, Nige."
She flopped into her chair as Nigel walked out, wondering if Miranda had been as bad as everyone said. What was she getting herself into now? If Miranda was that strict, would she set more impossible tasks for her? She sat, pondering her reasons for returning and why it felt so nice to be back here. A year ago she would have been exhausted and ready to leave, but now she was enjoying the quiet of the office compared to the constant noise in the news room.