Hiiii. See I told you I'd be back soon! Thanks you guys for the reviews, I love that Miranda-styled comment LOL.

Enjoy!

A few months after Paris..

Andy finally figured out why Miranda delved into her work so passionately. Because finding something else to devote yourself to is a lot better than pondering with your life sometimes. Thank god it's Monday, she too often thought.

Staying at the office for long hours covering live events from international affairs has earned her credits that other young reporters could not get their hands on.

There were the endless 2 A.M. jobs.

One night, when she finished and published the 'breaking news' online about some bombing in North Caucasus region in Russia, she rubbed her eyes and looked around the office. There was another flicking light in a familiar cubicle.

Making an extra coffee, she visited Brad, finding him asleep on the desk surrounded by piles of photographs of Runway models, and in the very midst of the crowd shown Miranda Priestly, covered in a fur coat and her signature chanel glasses. Miranda still dazzles, Andy thought.

Putting the coffee down, she nudged him awake.

"Braaaad… you're asleep again…"

"Oh hey, Andy."

"You covering the Fashion section for this issue?"

"Yeah… Miranda Priestly, your lovely ex-boss, is making some fuss again. There are rumors she's sleeping with the vice president of Elias Clark and that's pissing Irv off."

She would, Andy thought.

She's doing it again, manipulating her way through with sex. Getting what she wanted again, but doesn't she always? Everyone seems to fall beneath her, without so much of a fuss.

She wondered if that vice president really thought Miranda liked him.

Brad stood up and pulled Andy closer by the waist, closing the distance between them. He nuzzled her cheeks slowly and whispered, "So how was your day?"

Andy was still looking down at the pictures on his desk, imagining Miranda Priestly fucking some CEO or vice president and being generally very convincing.

So she kissed him back, hard.

Waking up with a dazzling headache, Andy groaned.

Consciousness along with memories were coming back to her.

So last night she fucked Brad in the office again. They've been fooling around for a while now, but not really mentioning it or talking about it. She guessed that neither of them knew where this was going. It was more of a 'let's have fun, why not?' thing.

It wasn't really a surprise. She was craving the touch of someone, anyone. And he is a great friend and a great lover, so why not? Except last night she was not thinking of Brad on that desk, she was thinking of Miranda. There was a tint of sadness and bitter sweetness when she came, surprisingly, harder than usual.

The thought that merely some photographs of Miranda could make her night was a disturbing one. But Andy led it go, like her urge to call Miranda and ask what the fuck was wrong with her, like her need to constantly check 'Miranda Priestly' related news, like her routine to go to Starbucks everyday in the hopes of (though she denies it) running into Miranda.

Last time she got especially upset when she read that one of her coworkers spelled Priestly 'Preistly'. It was almost a personal affront, challenging her. Except she reminded herself that she was supposed to not care anymore. And there were no reasons for her to be so enraged over such trivial matter.

But she just thought it was ridiculous, that was all.