"Hon, you're going to be late for work!" Miranda grabbed Pete's lunch from the 'fridge and waited for him at the bottom of the stairs.

"I know! I'm coming!" He ran down the stairs, briefcase in one hand, the other struggling to do up the buttons on his shirt. "Shit." He dropped his case.

"Hang on, I'll get it," Miranda handed him his lunch and she expertly buttoned his shirt for him. Leaning down to pick up his case, she waited patiently for him to tuck in his shirt.

"Thanks, 'Randa," he kissed her cheek and, taking his things, headed out the door. "I'll call you later, all right?"

She smiled at him. "All right."

Now that the past couple of years were done and over with – the incidents with Rachel, mourning over Doug, her harsh depression, and realizing how much she felt for Pete – she was ready to move on.

What with everything that happened, it would seem off for Miranda to still want to work at the hospital. Nevertheless, she tried it, thinking it was still what she wanted. But she was wrong.

They started her off with a simple desk job, and she was fine with that. But it was the driving to and from work that got to her. Those roads still held a lot of memories for her. But she said that no matter what, she wanted to work with people, to help them anyway she could.

"Good morning, Miss Graham," a young blonde woman chirped out cheerfully as Miranda entered the office.

"Sophie, we've been over this… Just call me Miranda," she raised an eyebrow at the intern, who was insistent upon using Pete's last name when addressing Miranda.

Sophie smiled, nodded. "Good morning, Miranda."

"Good morning, Sophie.

Not up for too much excitement, she'd soon found a job as a paralegal. It was a nice, boring desk job filling out loads of paperwork, and she enjoyed it thoroughly. She just needed a break from people.

As soon as Pete found out she'd gotten the job, he'd rented ISecretary/I and told her to avoid personal relationships in her office.

Sighing, she sat down in her chair, started on whatever work that day held for her. True, legal work wasn't as exciting as working in a hospital, but she was actually quite glad to be away. All those memories…

Sometimes, she would wake up from a nightmare, drenched in sweat, reaching to the other side of the bed, praying that Pete would be there. Trying to muffle her sobs, she'd snake her arms around him, as if holding on for dear life. But he always woke up, whether she wanted him to or not. He would pull her into his arms, kiss her cheeks, brush the hair out of her eyes, tell her everything was all right.

And then she'd be able to fall back asleep, so long as she was resting carefully on his chest, feeling his heart beat in his chest.

"Hey," Miranda turned around from her spot on the couch as Pete came in the living room, untying his tie as he sat down beside her, leaned in for a kiss.

"Want some help?"

"No… What do you think I did before you?"

"Struggled for hours?" Miranda pushed his hands away and untied the piece of fabric that was threatening to strangle her lover.

"Ha, ha, 'Randa. You're hilarious. Do you want Chinese for dinner?"

"That was random, but sure," feeling playful, she put the tie around her own neck, expertly doing a half-Windsor knot.

Pete stared at her, his jacket already thrown on the coffee table and his hands fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. "Hot. Wanna have a late dinner?"

"Can I wear the tie?"

"Nothing but," Pete slid his arms out of his shirt, ran a hand through Miranda's hair.

"You're on."

"…top of you."

Miranda laughed, wrapped her arms around Pete as he leaned in for a kiss.

"Miss- Miranda?"

"Yes, Sophie?"

"There's a message for you," the intern held out a slip of paper, handed it to the woman.

"Thanks," Miranda smiled, studied the paper as she headed to her office.

Just back from lunch, she hoped it wasn't anything that involved a lot of moving, as that leftover Chinese food had stuffed her quite well.

"'Sorry, no can do you tonight, wanna have lunch tomorrow? Love, Yours.'" Miranda rolled her eyes and buzzed Sophie via intercom. "If Mr. Graham calls back, can you tell him he'll have to make good acquaintance with Mr. Hand and his five children tomorrow?... Thanks."

"So, I was talking to this foxy young thing on the phone today… I think she said her name is Sophia, Samuel… Sophia? Foxy Sophie?"

"Get to the point, dear," Miranda smiled over her French toast.

"Anyway, she told me I'm supposed to meet someone named Mr. Hand? What a ridiculous name. He must be English. And he has five children! I wonder what he does for a living."

"You're dripping syrup, dear."

"Dammit." Pete wiped the spot off the table with a napkin. "So, you're a funny gal. What do you think this Foxy Sophie meant?"

"Well, dear, I think she meant to go play by yourself and let the other children have their important business meetings, and that she herself is a little too – how shall I say it? – illegal for you."

Pete raised an eyebrow from across the table. "Is that the best you can do?"

"You know I can do better."

"Actually, I think in the Official Dirty-Talkers Handbook, they refer to it as 'worse.' As in, 'which phrase is worse, that you do not want your children to hear?'"

"How about I dirty talk you tonight and you let me have a chance at getting that raise tomorrow?"

"Well… Can we do more than just talk?"

"Will I fall asleep during my meeting?"

"…Maybe."

"Can you make me extra strong coffee in the morning so I don't?"

"Absolutely!"

"And waffles with sliced strawberries and powdered sugar for breakfast?"

"If you want."

"In bed?"

"What's in bed?"

"Breakfast."

"Mine?"

"Not if I fall asleep during my meeting."

Pete set down his fork. "All right. Sex tonight for us, breakfast in bed for you, and… what for me?"

Miranda smiled. "A night in the sack with the queen of dirty talk."

"Pete!" Miranda was trying to whisper, but over the phone, it proved difficult if you actually wanted the other person to hear you.

"'Randa?"

"Guess what!"

"…You slept with your boss?"

"Don't be gross. I got the raise!"

"…Because you slept with your boss."

"No!"

"Oh, then why?"

Miranda could almost hear Pete smiling. "Aren't you happy for me?"

"Of course I am! Congrats, 'Randa."

"Thanks."

"Hmm… Just how thankful are you?"

"Pete! Is that the only thing you can think about?"

"Well, no, I also think about you… And having sex with you… And-"

"You're so crude! Anyway, I have to get to work. I'll talk to later, okay?"

"Sure thing. Love you."

Miranda practically glowed. She loved, more than almost anything else, to hear Pete say he loved her. "Love you, too. Oh, and thanks for breakfast this morning."

"Mm. Thanks for… dessert… last night."