A/N: Hey look! It's the end but it's also Christmas lol Unlike most of my other fics, I didn't want this to be too in-depth, hope you understand. I tried to make the skip feel as natural as possible so if it works, great. If it doesn't, I'll know not to do it next time. Thank you all for your lovely comments. I'm really glad you all enjoyed it.

N.B. This is NSFW ;)

-Epilogue-

Miranda Priestly had never been a huge fan of Christmas. Her girls enjoyed it, and so she had done her best to accommodate them in their excitement, but history had not been as kind to her as it had others. What she had not understood, in her previous years of Christmas accommodations, was just how much feeling the season produced if one was, in their own life, happy.

She glanced around the room, taking in the twinkling lights on the tree and the - yes, fine - the rather excess piles of presents under the tree. She thought back on the time that had passed between that fateful day in March and tonight's Christmas Eve.

As predicted, the world had not improved. If anything, it had become much worse. People had discounted the science of things and embraced derisiveness. Like Richard, a good number of people had sided with a number of powerful, but ultimately idiotic people and a good number of them had lost their lives. Only yesterday she had received word that two of their security team had died in recent weeks and the utter frustration of it all disgusted her.

Irv had been in her ear for months, insisting that they return to their desks, as a show of unity with those that she remained at odds with. She, in a rare show of absolute power over her dominion, turned him down and had the Board's approval to do so. The Runway staff would remain at home, where they were under strict instructions to isolate properly and that they be careful and remain safe and healthy. As recently as last week she had, once again, informed the staff at their weekly Zoom meeting that if they were the last people in the world to go back to in-person work, she would not be upset about that. They would ensure that they were all safe, or they would not go at all. To that end, as Irv tightened the screws on her budget.

Because of this, and to show him what she thought of that, she had quietly, and personally, relinquished a percentage of her salary to her staff, to ensure that her staff would not suffer for his stupidity. She had, to the younger woman's surprise, discussed it with Andréa before announcing it but Andréa had merely kissed her deeply and told her to go for it. They were not hurting as so many others were, even with the two extra mouths to feed.

They would all survive as long as her team did as well.

That need to protect both herself and her children had intensified with Andréa's peaceful and perfect inclusion in her life. Archie had come along in leaps and bounds, but when they had called an ambulance in June to transport him to New-York Presbyterian with breathing difficulties, she had paced the floor of their room for three hours until Andréa had let her know he was okay. She had noticed how grumpy he'd been when she picked him up from his nap that afternoon. Andréa had been attending a Zoom meeting for a new project she had found during their time in isolation. But when she'd passed him back to his mother after she'd joined them, Andréa had frowned as he latched on and watched carefully until he started gulping at the air. Miranda had scrambled to retrieve her phone and dial 911 as his lips turned blue.

The temerity of the emergency services man telling her she could not go with them was as impressive as it was terrifying. As it happened, it was only Andréa's gentle hand on her face that calmed her down. Her relationship with Archie had quickly become as important to her as her relationship with the twins. She would give her life for Andréa's son and it was only that thought that stopped her from creating the biggest scene she had ever made. Following protocol, but breaking her heart in the process, Andréa had gone with Archie alone - as she should have - and had returned two days later with a tired and unsettled Archie and a new oxygen tank as well. His premature body had done admirably but had fallen victim to chronic lung disease. While the doctors had assured them both, via video call a few days later, that he would likely grow out of, in the meantime, it would create a bit of difficulty.

The global pandemic had become even more terrifying for them.

Yet, they had managed, as they always did and Andréa had taken to her new role as both mother and medical practitioner like a duck to water. By now, the four of them were well-practised at attaching a new tube to an oxygen tank, taping the tubes to his little cheeks and keeping him busy while Andréa did her best to keep his airways clear and his immune system healthy. Now, at just barely one, he was scooting - but not quite running - around like any other late-blossoming one year old. He had a little less energy at times and a very, very long line of tubing following him, but they and his paediatrician were very happy with his progress.

She chuckled to herself at how many presents she'd managed to order without Andréa realising. The woman did not know it yet, but there was a whole play gym under the tree that would have to be constructed in the morning. Archie had developed a love of climbing and she wanted to nurture his sense of balance and adventure, even while they were still isolated. She was, perhaps, a little indulgent.

"Hello, my love," Andréa whispered in her ear, her hands sliding over Miranda's stomach and up to cup her breasts.

"Oh," she breathed. "Hello, darling."

"Miranda?" she said, sterner now. "Where the hell did all those presents come from?"

"Um -"

She turned and cupped Andréa's cheek, smiling at her frown. Unable to help it, she kissed the woman gently, but with fire, sliding her own hand around the back of her and over her ass.

"Nuh-uh," Andréa said, stepping back and looking around her. "How the -" She stopped and took a deep breath, looking at Miranda with some fire in her eyes. "You cheated."

"Miranda Priestly does not cheat!"

"We had a limit!"

"We did," Miranda smiled.

"Oh my god, who did you terrorise to get things for free!"

"No one," Miranda laughed. "No one. It's fine. I admit. I did cheat just a little. You are right." Andréa's mouth fell open as she understood the sheer number of gifts under the tree. "The girl's stuck to their limit though," she added helpfully.

"MIRANDA!"

She laughed and wrapped her arms around her love properly. Andréa wasn't to know but as soon as Miranda had decided what she was purchasing for her beautiful lover, all manner of budgets had gone out of the window. The petite, but beautiful diamond, set in platinum with three smaller diamonds around it held the promise of everything to come in their lives. Though Archie was still experiencing the beginnings of life, they had discussed more children and Miranda had been pleased to find that Andréa was not opposed. Whether she carried them or they adopted mattered little to Miranda; the addition to their household had woken up her need to nurture something that was not her magazine.

"You are miles away," Andréa's voice brought her back to the present.

"I was just thinking about the gift that is waiting under the tree for you," she said easily.

"Ooh," Andréa beamed. "Is it a toaster? One hundred dollars promises to be a brilliant toaster," she said with a heavy dose of sardonicism.

Okay, so Miranda had absolutely obliterated the budget they had set for themselves.

"It is not a toaster," Miranda chuckled.

"Maybe I should open it now?"

"You may," Miranda shrugged. "If that is your wish?"

She meant it as well. She would not mind proposing to her Andréa here, in the dark with only the sparkling lights as company.

"Really?"

"Yes," she shrugged. "Would you like to?"

Andréa nodded, no doubt knowing what Christmas would be like with the twins and Archie tomorrow morning. Miranda retrieved the little bag and held it out to her lover with a soft smile.

"Miranda, that is a -"

"Open it?" she asked quietly.

Andréa's hands were shaking as she reached for the bag and, after a glance at Miranda, reached inside and pulled out the small box.

"Mir -"

"Andréa," she whispered, cupping the woman's cheek and taking the box from Andréa's hands. "You came into my life when I did not know that I needed you and while I may not have realised how much I needed you then, I do know now. I know that I cannot imagine ever being without you and Archie in my life. Would you," she whispered finally, her heart beating heavily. She opened the box in her hand and stepped back, dropping to her knees in front of Andréa. "Would you do me the honour of being my wife?"

Andréa froze and stared between the ring in Miranda's hand and Miranda's eyes.

"You're -"

"I had incorrectly assumed that I was not made for marriage, Andréa," she whispered, looking at the ring for a while. "It turns out that Miranda Priestly is sometimes wrong. I am made for marriage, but I was waiting for the right person. I was waiting for you."

"You really are proposing," Andréa whispered, her hands going to her face. "But I'm -"

"I love you Andréa," Miranda said easily.

And it was easy. Loving Andréa was her greatest and easiest achievement. She loved being the woman that Andréa curled around in bed, she loved being the one that woke Andréa up with gentle kisses beneath the chin and tentative touches along her skin. If she had thought her sexual awakening had already occurred, she was sorely mistaken. Making love to Andréa was like a drug and even her staff, via video conference, had noticed how at ease she was. Nigel had joined her in an editorial Zoom late in the day and had spent a good portion of the evening discussing Andréa's presence in her life, rather than whatever it was they had needed to. In recent weeks as they'd put together the Christmas edition, when Archie napped, Andréa would join her in her office and they would work quietly together until it was time for her to go back to being Archie's mother.

Now though, she awaited Andréa's answer.

"Unless you -"

"No," Andréa breathed. Miranda's heart stopped. "NO! I mean Yes! Yes, Miranda." She breathed and asked with a look but Andréa beamed. "I would love to be your wife, Miranda. I," she shook her head. "Am so overwhelmed."

"This doesn't really change anything," Miranda muttered, removing the ring from the box and kissing Andréa's palm before she slid it onto her delicate fingers. "Except that everyone will know that you are mine and that I am yours."

"You are so fucking romantic sometimes," Andréa whispered. She pulled Miranda closer by the scruff of the Christmas jumper the girls had bought for her and pressed their lips together aggressively.

Miranda loved it when she got like this. When she was overcome with emotion and had only her body to express herself. The first time it had happened they had spent the rest of the night taking pleasure from each other incessantly. Since then it had only become more intense.

"Oh," Miranda whispered as Andréa slid her hands under her shirt. "Andréa."

"Tell me," Andréa whispered, pushing her back onto her knees, but joining her as well. "Tell me."

"I love you," she whispered, allowing Andréa to push her onto the floor in front of the Christmas tree.

The children were ensconced in their beds, there was not an ounce of work to consider and Miranda was happy to give herself completely to Andréa. Previously she would have immediately vetoed making love in any place other than their bedroom, especially considering the fact that they all lived in the same house at the same time, but Andréa was insatiable at times. They had made love in nearly all of the rooms in the house. Sometimes, it was quick and sometimes it was languid as the baby napped and the girls attended school. She pushed those thoughts away now as Andréa pushed up her sweater and unhooked her bra.

"Oh baby," Andréa murmured, biting the soft skin beneath Miranda's nipple. "You are so beautiful."

Miranda couldn't speak as Andréa pushed her thigh between Miranda's legs and engulfed her right breast. She arched into the touch and twitched as Andréa groaned happily. The first was always quick and though she initially was rather embarrassed, Andréa had quickly and practically pointed out that a fast start enabled a slow and unhurried second, third and sometimes even forth. The woman played Miranda like a fiddle.

Andréa wasted no time in unsnapping her Ralph Lauren pants and sliding her hand beneath them and into her La Perla with another groan.

"You are always so wet for me," Andréa groaned, switching to her other breast. "So ready, whenever I want you."

"I'm yours," Miranda gasped as Andréa found her clit and rolled over it gently. "Only ever yours."

Their breath filled the silence of the room as Andréa wound her body tighter and tighter until she broke under the strain with a whispered declaration of love. Andréa dropped to her shoulder, her fingers still rolling gently over her as Andréa eked out the rest of her pleasure.

"I love the way you come for me," she whispered. "The way your body breaks for me."

Miranda made a noise, but couldn't have told anyone what that noise was, but she made it and Andréa sat up and pulled off her bottoms with little ceremony.

"I refuse to be half-naked if you are not also bared," she muttered, biting down on Andréa's neck.

"Mmm," Andréa hissed. "Fine."

They readjusted their position to the floor in front of the sofa and pulled down the throw to cover them in case one of the kids wandered in. It would be unusual and they did not expect it, but they were nothing if not careful.

As Andréa's beautiful skin was revealed, Miranda could wait no longer. Smiling at the sparkling ring on her finger, she rolled them, pinning Andréa with her hips and groaning as their centers brushed. She pawed at Andréa, feeling well out of her emotional depth, though they had done this so many times. The sounds Andréa was making as she teased sensitive areas into goosebumps made her own clench in sympathy.

"Take me," Andréa whispered as Miranda was curling her tongue around her nipple. She still breastfed Archie before he slept and Miranda groaned as her breast gave up its sweetness for a moment. "Oh god love," Andréa breathed. "Please fuck me."

Contrary to popular belief, Miranda was incredibly good at following directions and she slid her hand down Andréa's body, over her ribs and stomach, between her legs.

"Yes," she hissed. "Please."

It had not taken them long to find each other in Miranda's bed, one night barely two weeks after Andréa had moved in. For a time, Miranda considered that they were moving too fast, but as Andréa had slid down her body and slid her tongue deep inside her on that first night at about three o'clock in the morning, all thoughts of that had fled.

They had moved her in properly then. Andréa moved into Miranda's room, Archie had followed in the crib he'd inherited from the girls, placed by Andréa's bedside until he had grown old enough to spend the night in the adjacent room. Miranda, to this day, still took turns with Andréa and often spent part of her night soothing him back to sleep so her lover could sleep. However, once he'd vacated the immediate vicinity, that is when their love had really blossomed. Miranda had catalogued every twitch Andréa had given as she explored her body and she used every single memory she had to take her to new heights on the first day of their new chapter.

"Yes love," Andréa whispered as Miranda slid her fingers straight in.

Her legs fell open and Miranda groaned now at how wet Andréa was. She pressed deeper and used the pressure of her hips to help show Andréa how much she loved their love. She curled her fingers and engulfed Andréa's mouth for the shout she knew would come. Their tongues warred inside as she twitched her fingers gently in time with Andréa's canting hips. Andréa hissed at the burn and grabbed her own thighs, spreading herself wider to help.

Miranda groaned at the visual and sat back, taking it all in.

"Use your mouth, love," Andréa suggested, knowing how Miranda loved that. She made a noise of acceptance and shimmied down, scissoring her fingers slightly to keep up the gentle stretch and fell on Andréa's center with a hunger she knew would never be satiated.

Her lover screamed into a cushion and bowed so severely that she sat up as Miranda sucked her clit into her mouth and grazed her teeth against it. She felt the gush of liquid around her fingers and knew that Andréa would want more. She slid her fingers out and immediately thrust her tongue inside instead. Andréa's taste was like a drug and she devoured her noisily and greedily while Andréa writhed beneath her.

"Fuck," Andréa pleaded. Like a mantra, she breathed the word until Miranda felt her tightening again.

Miranda moaned as a fresh burst of liquid coated her tongue and Andréa's fingers gripped the back of her head. It was this moment that Miranda had come to live for. Not the moment their edition was completed, not the moment it was published. That was her old life. Her new life was governed by this moment, where Andréa was prone beneath her mouth. This moment, where she had the ultimate power. A power that no one else had. And a power she could wield with mercy or without.

"I love you Andréa," she breathed, gulping down air and sliding three fingers inside her fiance. "I love you so much it should be impossible."

Andréa did not answer. She babbled endlessly as her fist gripped Miranda's hair and Miranda thrust inside, over and over and over.

She felt the moment as it happened. The spongy flesh beneath her fingers getting just a little more spongy and a little more sensitive and Andréa, forgetting the pillow squealed and jerked as a gush of liquid ran poured out of her and over Miranda's hand. Miranda, overcome with such emotion came as well, jerking uncontrollably into Andréa, which only made her contort at such an angle that her back cracked. Miranda pushed their hips back together, trying to touch the pleasure that was coursing through her.

It was like that sometimes. Messy, without finesse. Endless. Intense. She didn't care. Her hand was soaking wet, as was the floor around them though thankfully, it was covered by the throw they had thought to get. She collapsed onto Andréa's stomach and tried to catch her breath, as her future bride did the same.

"Fuck you are good at that," Andréa whispered finally, her voice hoarse.

"I do try," she drawled. Making Andréa cum always gave her such feelings of accomplishment, but in times like this, she always felt a little more accomplished than usual. Andréa chuckled and Miranda felt it between her legs before she heard it. "Did I hurt you?" she asked, withdrawing her fingers slowly.

"No," Andréa breathed. "You can never hurt me."

Miranda did not reply but shimmied up Andréa's body to kiss her languidly. Just as Andréa's hands slid into Miranda's thoroughly messy hair, a call came over the baby monitor.

"Maaaaaaaaa."

"Well," Andréa chuckled, looking up at her softly. "Your son is calling."

Miranda, as she always did when Andréa said that out loud, beamed and got to her knees, pulling Andréa up with her. They kissed softly before Miranda pulled on her clothing and followed the babble to their boy - stopping briefly to clean up first.

She beamed at him as he stood clinging to the bars of his crib, pointing upwards to indicate he wanted out.

"You are far too delightful, young man," she muttered. She picked up one of his hearing aids and slid it onto his ear before she picked him up. "Are you awake, my boy?" she asked softly.

As he always did in the wee hours of the morning, he jumped a bit at the sound, before he rested his ear against her chest and sighed, jamming his thumb into his mouth. She chuckled and sat down in their favourite place, a beautiful mahogany rocking chair in the corner and she moved him sideways across her lap where she could cradle him. Knowing he was more tired than anything, she picked up the book she had been reading before he'd gone to sleep and started reading again. It was not long before Andréa joined them, pressing a kiss to both their heads and laying with a happy sigh on the sofa beside them. Miranda turned the pages as Archie pushed his face into her and they rocked gently until, as she read the final pages of The Night Before Christmas, she felt him doze off. She took off his hearing aide again and stood, rocking him side to side to keep him asleep before putting him back to bed, Andréa's warm hand on her back.

"Let's go to bed," she muttered, soothing the frown on his forehead with her hand. "I do not doubt that between him or the girls we will have to be up again in a few hours."

They met again in the middle of their bed and Miranda tucked a stray piece of hair behind Andréa's ear. She pulled her left hand to her lips and kissed the finger where the new ring sat.

"I love you," she said genuinely. "I love what you have given me and what we have. I love that you have given it to me freely Andréa. I cannot begin to -"

"I love you," Andréa smiled. "Of the two of us, it is you that has given us everything. This year," she scoffed. "I thought it would be awful back in March. But it has turned into it being everything."

"I have seen what is important and I like it," Miranda admitted. "I do not ever want to go back to physical work and be apart from the four of you."

Andréa smiled and pressed a kiss to each eyelid.

"Let's get through Christmas before we make any sweeping changes to our existence," she laughed. "And," she wagged her fingers on the left hand. "You're going to have to marry me at some stage."

"Oh, I plan to," Miranda whispered, cupping Andréa's cheek. "I plan to."

"Merry Christmas, Miranda Priestly," Andréa sighed.

"Merry Christmas, Andréa Sachs," Miranda whispered, pulling Andréa in and closing her eyes with a smile on her face.