A/N: This is my first attempt at Fanfiction. I woke up with the idea in my head after inhaling so much DWP/Mirandy fanfic. This is not beta'd. All mistakes are my own.
Disclaimer: I do now own any of the Characters belonging to The Devil Wears Prada. These are owned by Lauren Weisberger and 20th Century Fox.
Summary: Andy leaves Paris with final words for Miranda.
A/N 2: I have spent some time since my last update editing this story in the hopes it would coax my muse from hibernation. There are no major changes to the storyline/plot.
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Chapter Two:
Dear Miranda,
Thank you for responding to my letter. I was thrilled to receive it but also very confused. I expected nothing back from you.
Somehow it is easier to put my thoughts down on paper, maybe it's the writer in me but then again maybe it's because your presence throws my equilibrium totally off balance. Sometimes just one look from you with your eyebrow arched stops any coherent thoughts and speech patterns. I either end up babbling, stuttering or shocked into silence. I realise how annoying that must be for you.
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Miranda received the letter at around midnight as she was settling in for some much-needed sleep. Forgoing sleep she found herself excited and yet nervous to discover what the young woman had to say.
She snorted elegantly at the thought of her presence causing Andréa's inability to form logical speech or thought patterns. She had always assumed the inability was derived from something deep within Andréa's psyche.
Andréa had started off life as her assistant with an innate clumsiness that was endearing, adorable really. She had found Andréa quite eloquent in her initial interview, upon thought it was possible that this was due to frustration at being dismissed so abruptly from the interview.
Over time though, with her transformation, she had found that Andréa seemed to lose the clumsiness yet become ineffective at communicating clearly, a standard response to her being 'Yes Miranda'. As she got better walking in designer heels she became more graceful, but she also thought her approval over Andréa had caused a shift in their relationship, whatever it was had caused Andréa to blush furiously over nothing, stutter more frequently and she lost the ability to make direct eye contact.
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There's so much that I am unable to communicate. I just felt the need to escape. It wasn't a decision based on what you said to me. It was purely instinctive. You say it's possible for me to break down of your defences but I don't possess an arsenal of defensive manoeuvres available to me. My fight-or-flight response purely depends on the day. I admit to having a tendency to flee when I am overwhelmed.
With everything that has happened over the last week, Christian, Irv, Nigel, You, I felt an overwhelming sense of inadequacy. I couldn't protect you from Irv, I found out too late what was being planned. I couldn't make you feel better about Stephen's actions, you let me in briefly and then your walls came up higher than ever.
You told me to do my job but part of my job was to ensure that your life runs smoothly and I failed. I allowed that inadequacy to push me into Christian's arms. A drunken mistake I cannot undo though from what Nigel told me, he got more than he bargained for this afternoon.
Thank you for defending me. I don't know what he said to you but it must have been pretty bad for you to react so forcefully, especially after I'd just disappeared on you.
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Miranda was happy Andréa realised her night with Christian was a mistake. Christian had a reputation in the New York publishing world, which was far smaller than people thought, his chasing and bedding young, beautiful women was legendary. His usual modus operandi was to lavish the young women with praise and plenty of alcohol. The praise caused them to think he actually cared, and the alcohol loosened their inhibitions enough for him to get what he wanted.
If Miranda had known of Christian's attention towards Andréa, she could have provided a gentle warning about his reputation. As far as Miranda was concerned Christian Thompson was pond scum. She hoped Andréa was not eaten away with self-loathing for because of the actions of that cretin.
Looking back on the afternoon she was embarrassed by her loss of control but also slightly proud.
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Earlier Today:
She had been asked to make a speech for Valentino, which she had prepared for, but after Andréa had walked away her thoughts were scattered, she felt nervous and panicked.
She somehow fluffed her way through it sufficiently, making people smile where expected and being applauded at the end.
As she descended the steps from the stage she halted as she looked up to find Christian in her personal space, smirking at her.
"Where's Andy?" He demanded.
Miranda arched her eyebrow and threw him a look of contempt. Attempting to brush past him she found her way blocked. How dare he? "Move!" she seethed at him.
Pushing further into Miranda's personal space Christian lowered his face towards her ear and whispered, "She wanted me last night and I gave her what she wanted. She was exquisite, sensual and sexy as Hell. And I will have her again and again in every possible way."
In that instance, with Christian gloating about his time with Andréa, Miranda became furious.
She snarled at him. "Is that why she ran to me this morning? She ran to me to warn me of your folly in siding with Irv and Jacqueline, told me about that silly little mock-up of an inferior Runway. You honestly believed you could work for Runway? As an editor of all things? Your writing is substandard at best. It isn't fit enough to grace even page six…" Christian lost his smirk. "...As for Andréa, she will always be mine before all else. She is loyal to me, and if you go anywhere near her again I. Will. End. You!" she spat.
Christian grinned widely at that. "So the Ice Queen has melted, over her assistant of all things. How inappropriate. I never realised Miranda Girl was actually Miranda's girl, though that explains quite a lot."
"Move!" Miranda snarled at him
Refusing to back down Christian snaps. "I'll move when I'm done saying what I have to say. She may be loyal to you but she will never be yours. I had her in ways you never will. You will live knowing I was there first…she wouldn't want someone old, frumpy and bitter like you when she's had me."
At his sneer, Miranda stepped back and swung her open palm against his cheek with as much force as she could muster. Hard enough for his head to snap back on his neck. As he took a step, backing away from her, she could see she had caused his lip to bleed where her ring had caught it. She lunged forward again ready to strike out with her foot but found she was being held back by arms wrapped around her waist.
"Let. Me. Go!" she demanded.
Nigel held onto her as she struggled against him. "No Miranda. Let me deal with this."
Christian smirked again as Miranda seethed. Nigel nodded to Valentino, who caught the attention of his security and waved them in the direction of the altercation.
"Andy will leave you like everyone does…" Christian spat as the Security team swept in. "...And when she does, I'll be waiting for her."
Miranda's heart dropped as Security dragged Christian out of the room and launched him into the busy Paris Street.
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I will attempt to answer the questions in your letter.
I cannot provide definitive answers why you see the need to explain anything to me. However, I think maybe you trust me enough to recognise that I will never judge you, even when you are at your most vulnerable.
I can see the woman behind the nicknames because you allowed it. I consider myself blessed to have seen behind the facade. There's more to you than those nicknames imply. I saw it in the softening of your face and voice when you speak to Cassidy and Caroline and when someone says something witty, you try to hide your amusement, your eyes sparkle and your lips quirk a little before your mask falls back into place. And it is a mask. I recognise when you have a headache you rub the bridge of your nose when you are frustrated you run your fingers through your beautiful hair and when you are contemplative your finger or the item in your hand brushes across your lips. I noticed all that and more. Those unconscious gestures held me captivated on more than one occasion.
Your husbands must have been blind not to see the caring, generous woman behind the editor. I am not so blind. I learned to see you when I learned to read you so I could meet your needs and try to make your life easier.
Regarding my growth; My parents know I came to New York to be a journalist and right now they're pushing me to go against my dreams. They were against me moving away initially, due to moving in with Nate, and the last year has provided them with enough ammunition to believe I made a mistake. They think I would not have lost Nate, Lily and Doug if I had gone into law or if I hadn't worked for Runway. Their reasoning is that my dedication to you and to Runway took up too much of my life that could be spent with them in Ohio and with my friends and Nate in New York.
My friends just want the old Andy back, the Andy who would not have shut them out when faced with their lack of understanding of my work. The lack of comprehension that doing my job effectively and building a career, that I found highly rewarding, was justifiable. That my job was more important than partying hard.
I understand I can't go back to the old me, plus I believe Nigel would find me and kill me if I promptly forgot everything I learned over the last few months. I possess a new appreciation for fashion and its place in the world.
I am certainly not the naïve young woman who walked into your office with no knowledge of you or Runway. The contacts I made and the chance working for Runway could open doors within publishing was a bonus I didn't expect when I interviewed for the position as your assistant. But even without those doors opening, I will always give it my best shot to succeed.
I honestly don't know if journalism is the career for me, but I want to follow my dream of writing.
I have no idea where I am headed next, and that's kind of scary but also exhilarating. I have been thinking tonight of spending time travelling across Asia or Europe and writing about that, I'm unsure yet where I'll end up.
Given time I'll grow and progress into the person I am meant to be. There's not much reason to go back to New York except to pack up the things in the tiny apartment I can no longer afford now Nate has gone, and I can't face going back to Ohio. I have enjoyed my freedom away from the constraints of my family who, although I love dearly, can be quite suffocating.
Knowing you see me as an equal has me quite dumbstruck, knowing you see the potential in me is baffling. All I have done for you is what my job entailed, to the best of my abilities...and as I stated I believe I failed at this entirely. I am replaceable Miranda. That's part of the reason behind me leaving. Life at Runway will continue on without me. I am not nor will I ever be something special.
Wherever I end up I will miss the people I have met at Runway, I will miss the hustle and bustle and the beauty that surrounds each issue. I hope that people will stay in touch. I would especially like to remain in touch with you if that is what you also wish. You have my personal email should you decide to contact me.
I will always be there should you need me.
Yours
Andréa
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As Miranda read she experienced the sting of tears which she couldn't stop from flowing. She would miss the young woman's presence more than she had thought. Knowing she may not be in New York when she returned from Paris was heartbreaking. She acknowledged the world was just opening for Andréa and that she needed to find her place in it.
As much as Miranda wanted to fly down the hall to Andréa and beg her to stay she would never dream of holding her back. She had grasped the fact her feelings for Andréa ran far deeper than she could comprehend,
Without realising she had fallen in love with the beautiful brunette. There were too many factors that couldn't allow for a relationship to grow. She was still married, and she had the twins. She was also double Andréa's age. In her head, she thought her feelings weren't likely to be reciprocated. In her heart, she knew endless possibilities. Miranda had spent the last 30 years allowing her head rule her heart. It was time to follow her heart even if it led to heartbreak.
She now hoped that Andréa would find herself in her travels and would come back when she was ready. Miranda would wait forever if that's what it took.
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Andy had left New York. She had packed up her belongings and shipped them to her parents in Ohio keeping the basics of travel in one suitcase and a rucksack she started her travels two weeks after leaving Miranda in Paris.
Miranda and Andy had made a plan, deciding to keep in touch. Miranda exacted a promise from Andréa to send occasional emails, postcards or letters to the Townhouse.
Almost three weeks into her travels she finally accessed her email, finding her Inbox full. Deleting the junk she found one from an unknown email address.
Date: October 23, 2007
Sender: devilspawn
Recipient: andys82
Subject: Where are you?
Hi Andy
Mom has been sad since coming home from Paris and we don't think it's because of Stephen, he is a massive douche. He's plastered the divorce over Page Six so we're stuck with a Security detail until the paparazzi disappear back under the rocks they crawled out of.
We've never seen her so angry, not even when we pranked you to come upstairs to give her the book. And boy she had steam coming out of her ears that night.
When we asked about you she told us you had decided to travel. She said you needed time to grow into the person you're meant to be and that Runway wasn't the place for you to do that. We're calling B.S on that though. You're perfect the way you are, and we know mom agrees.
You scored major cool points with us when you got us the Harry Potter book before release and it even impressed mom. She was sure she would fire you.
You're way cooler than Emily, who's probably running around Manhattan like her butt's on fire as we type this.
Mom overheard Emily attempting to bad mouth you about leaving her in Paris. From what we have been told from Roy she royally chewed Emily out and then had to deal with her snivelling for 7 hours straight. No-one dares say your name at Runway now in case they get the same treatment.
Mom continues to despair over the "incompetence she is surrounded by". She still hasn't found a suitable 2nd assistant yet. At the last count, she was on Emily number 5. She's called none of them Andréa yet.
Why did you leave her? We thought you loved her!
Where did you go? When are you coming home? We miss your face.
Love
Caro 'n' Cass xox
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Andy shook her head as she noticed the twins email address. They knew many of Miranda's staff called them the Devil's Spawn but she saw past that in the same way she saw past the nicknames that were given to their mom. The twins were a handful and obviously full of mischief but they were beautiful children and they had gotten to know each other well over the months she delivered the book. She wondered how they secured her email, smiling as she acknowledged the twins had somehow snuck into Miranda's personal email to find her.
Continuing to remove unnecessary emails, marking much of it as spam, she found the email she had been waiting for.
Date: November 03, 2007
Sender: m.p
Recipient: andys82
Subject: Are you safe?
Andréa
Why have you not been in touch? It has been two weeks with no contact.
This is unacceptable.
Of all the ungrateful...silly…Let me know you are safe!
That's all.
M.P
She shook her head again thinking of the old proverb; the more things change, the more they stay the same. She thought back to that night in Paris. The letters swapped, and the decisions made.
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Five Weeks earlier:
Having sent the second letter to Miranda she continued to pack everything up. The clothes she had received on the trip were being sent to Nigel's room to stock the closet and to give to Emily. She had no need for them where she was going.
Her decision was made, she would travel and find herself. She would chase her dream and would get over her feelings of failure and find happiness.
Finding one of Miranda's Hermes scarves and smelling her signature scent she experienced the loss of Miranda as strongly as she had when she walked away that afternoon. "I have to get a grip!" she told herself as tears formed again.
She knew she shouldn't be feeling like this about her boss...well ex-boss to be precise. It was hopeless. Somewhere along the way she knew she had fallen in love with the silver-haired editor and in a way she knew she was running from the feelings that couldn't ever possibly be reciprocated. Miranda was a straight, twice divorced (as soon as the next one was completed) mother of twins. Andy had nothing to offer such a woman.
Finishing her packing, she folded up the scarf and placed it in her pocket against her heart. Looking at the clock she realised it was close to 1 am. She didn't see the point of attempting sleep now when she had to leave the airport in just a few short hours. She left the room in search of a much-needed caffeine fix.
Having walked a block from the hotel Andy found a 24hr cafe that was almost empty. Slipping in the door she looked around, noticing there were only two other people inside. Walking to the counter she requested coffee and a muffin from the lone barista. After taking her order he shooed her away from the counter. Turning around she looked around for a seat. At the back of the room, there was a lone figure of a woman that looked slightly familiar, the poor lighting couldn't provide discernible answers who it was.
Shrugging she walked across the room but halfway across she stopped as the woman looked up sharply, blue steel meeting warm chocolate. "Shit!" Andy muttered as with a flick of her head Miranda invited her over.
Miranda stood up as Andy sauntered over, she pulled out a chair for Andy and promptly sat back down holding her coffee lightly between both hands. She looked at Andy closely as she moved around the table to sit. "I see you're dressed to blend with the masses," Miranda stated.
Andrea smirked. "Well, I can't see myself backpacking across the world in couture. I doubt it would be suitable. I think my ripped Levi's and Vogue t-shirt is fitting for that at least."
"So you have made your decision to leave?" Miranda queried.
"Yeah. I just need to get away, you ever wanted to do that? Just disappear into the world?" Andy asked.
"This afternoon." Miranda sighed sadly.
Andy looked at Miranda, saw her eyes glazed over with unshed tears and held out her open palm to her. Miranda looked down before tentatively clasping the offered hand.
They spoke simultaneously.
"Thank-you…" Andy stuttered
"Your letter…" Miranda started.
They both sighed, and the waiter interrupted with Andy's order.
Miranda smirked. "You don't seem to be having difficulties with speech now Andréa, why is that?"
Andy sighed again. "I've had a bit of time today to come to terms with certain stuff."
Miranda's eyes twinkled. "Stuff? Really Andréa?"
Andy grinned at the editor but the smile faltered when she realised Miranda's thumb was caressing her palm. Her hand twitched and Miranda ceased their contact by grabbing her coffee cup. Andy faced the loss of contact and closed her eyes briefly. Thank you for your letter. I cannot even explain how much it meant to me, for you to take the time to respond"
"Please…" Miranda replied grasping Andy's hand again, "... there are no thanks necessary. You don't realise just how much I needed to do that, to make you see you aren't just another of my minions. That I see you as much as you see me."
"I doubt that somehow," Andy muttered under her breath before taking a drink of her coffee.
Miranda raised her eyebrow at Andy having heard the mutter but decided to leave the matter. "I would like to keep in touch Andréa," Miranda tells her.
"But…but why?" Andy stammered.
"I want to know the person you are and who you will become. I want you to know I will be there for you as you claim you are for me. I am not good…" she waved her hand around "...at connecting with people but I feel connected to you. I don't understand it Andréa, I just..." Miranda stopped there not knowing what else to say.
Andy leaned in whispering, "I sense that connection too." She put down her cup and caressed Miranda's cheek lightly. Miranda leaned towards her sighing.
"Your letters just confirmed everything I thought about you. Your kindness and empathy. Your strength and your growing confidence. I will cherish every word you have shared with me. Write to me? Letters, postcards, emails...just don't disappear, please."
Andy's eyes glistened with tears and she pulled her hand back from Miranda's cheek. "Of course, Miranda."
Taking a sip of her coffee Miranda grimaced at its coldness. Looking at her watch she sighed. It is almost 3:15 am, and she has realised her time with Andréa is about to run out. Ordering more coffee to go they walk towards the hotel.
"Let me call the car for you," Miranda said as they reach the hotel foyer.
"Thank you but my taxi's already booked. It'll be here for me at 4 am." Andy confirmed.
Miranda stopped walking and pulled Andy's arm forcing her to look at her. Seeing once again the tears in her Andréa's eyes she stepped closer. Holding her arms out, Andy stepped into her embrace and she pulled the young woman closer, hugging her tight and inhaling the scent of the young woman in her arms. "I'll miss you." Miranda declared. Kissing Andréa firmly on the cheek she turned and walked away from her.
"I'll miss you too, Miranda," Andy whispered to the retreating editor.
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She fired off a quick response to ensure that Miranda knew she had received the email.
Date: November 6, 2007
Sender: andys82
Recipient: m.p
Subject: RE: Are you safe?
M
I am safe. There will be a letter in the post for you shortly. Just breathe, okay?
I miss you.
A xox
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November 6, 2007
Dear Miranda
By now you will have received my email and now know I arrived in India safely. It has been such a culture shock. This place provides a sensory overload and personal space is non-existent.
I was in Delhi to start with. I visited the Red Fort, the India Gate (Which reminded of Paris L'Arc De Triomphe), Humayun's Tomb and the Akshardham Temple. I have been trying to get as close to the breathtaking beauty and grandeur India offers amidst the trash piles in the streets. It is so dirty here, it is something you just cannot comprehend until you have seen it. I spent the day at the National Zoological Park, they have recreated the natural habitat of the animals to give the inhabitants a resemblance of their native home, which is allowing the breeding of endangered animals in captivity.
The Indian people I have encountered are friendly and hospitable, the only time I felt overwhelmed by travelling solo was when people were trying to sell me stuff or beg. People shouting in your face to get in their rickshaw, buy their wares or give them money initially left me feeling extraordinarily harassed.
The culture is diverse here in North India. I have fallen in love with the clothing, the Shastriya Sangeet (classical music) is to die for and I have learned to dance the Giddha (Woman's dance).
The local people I have met on my travels have a lot of questions for me but they are respectful. I celebrated Diwali with a woman I studied with at Northwestern. As part of the festival of light the surrounding buildings were illuminated with oil-burning bowls called dipa lights, and with strings of artificial lights. Diwali celebrates a multitude of things. The Goddess Lakshmi is worshipped, and I was lucky enough to watch a procession where her statue was carried throughout the streets. As the Goddess of wealth, happiness and prosperity and with the festivities symbolising the victory of righteousness, the lifting of spiritual darkness and the awareness of the inner light. Being at the festival seemed right.
I moved from Delhi to Shimla, I spent a few days visiting Jakhoo Hill, Chadwick Waterfall and the Tara Devi Temple. Shimla offered an incandescent beauty I've rarely seen in a place before.
As I write this letter to you I have just completed the Chadar trek and am resting overnight in Leh where I started this adventure. From Leh, we drove to Tilad Do via Chilling. We hiked between 10-15kms a day across steep mountains for over a week. Staying in tents is not such a fun idea when it's so bitterly cold but I wanted to complete this before the trek becomes inaccessible due to the winter snowfall. The trek allowed me to walk over a frozen river, which is confined within a steep canyon between Chilling and the Zanskar valley. I have to confess that the idea of walking over a frozen river of ice was too great an adventure to miss. We drove the 65km back to Leh this morning and I fly to Nepal tomorrow.
My mom sent me an email yesterday, it made for compulsive reading when I arrived in Leh and finally accessed my email account. She explained what an ungrateful soul I had become. How I wasn't doing anything with my life and how much of a disappointment I was to the family. Once again my mom is trying to pull me home with a job offer at a minor league tabloid in Dayton. She was spectacularly furious after my last email when I refused to fly across the world to spend Thanksgiving with them.
I wrote a feature about my travels in India. I will send it across to the NY Times, Rolling Stone Vanity Fair. Keep everything crossed for me.
How is everything with you and the girls? Are you prepared for Thanksgiving and Christmas? Tell Cassidy and Caroline that I will email them soon and send them some photos of my travels so far. I have one photo I am especially pleased with. I captured a sea of vibrant colour and light against the backdrop of India Gate. It's stunning.
Writing of the incandescent beauty of Shimla I find myself missing you, you are the person who, for me, is intrinsically beautiful. I hope that doesn't make you feel too uncomfortable.
I would love to have you here experiencing the beauty and colour that is India. I think you'd like the clothes too. There's an elegance to the Salwar Kameez that's hard to define.
Yours as always
Andréa
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Andy sealed the envelope with a kiss and walked out of the lodge to post it. She had no regrets about leaving Runway but she missed the silver-haired editor. The absence was unbearable but she saw no other way than distancing herself from the heartbreak of loving someone who couldn't love her the same way.
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