A/N: Thanks to my beta, steph_more and the great job she is doing with all my stories :)
Little Broken Hearts
Another month has passed since the call, which Miranda totally ignored because Andy didn't leave a message or call back. And now, the newspaper in Andrea's hands was breaking her heart, breaking it in little pieces, pieces which would be difficult to reattach. She could actually feel it breaking.
Page Six had rumours of Miranda dating another candidate to be the next Mr. Priestly.
Tonight they would make an appearance at the ball hosted by the Museum and Andy, being a journalist, had free access. She didn't have a clue of what she would do; she just knew she would be there.
She would show Miranda that her heart was healed and that her body was unavailable to her. But anybody else could have the latter.
At the museum, Miranda was the center of attention, but Mr. Look-at-me-I'm-with-Miranda was solemnly ignored. Andy wanted to laugh because the discomfort Miranda was exuding was tangible. Or finally, her plan was starting to have an effect on the older woman. She had caught Miranda glancing towards her twice. When Miranda looked at her the third time, she knew it was time to begin the next step.
Revenge, ah the sweet taste of revenge.
Was she finally going crazy?
If she had counted right, this was the fourth companion Andrea had appeared with tonight. This one was a girl and they seemed to know each other fairly well. They were drinking and chatting and laughing and touching and standing much too close and-
"Um?"
Mr. I-want-to-be-the-next-Priestly smiled, a little embarrassed. "I asked you if you want to leave, um, you know... Go to a more private place?"
She looked briefly at him, then turned back to Andrea. "I'm perfectly fine here."
"Oh, um, okay. So," he put his left hand in one pocket and with the right, signalized to the bar. "I'll get another drink."
"If you must." She turned to him again and gave him her glass. "I want one too."
He just nodded and left. But when she turned towards Andrea again, the journalist had vanished. She scanned the place quickly and got a glimpse of Andrea and the other woman going to the area outside the museum.
Two seconds later, Miranda headed in the same direction.
"What are you doing here?"
Andy, who was currently giving her companion her card and a goodbye kiss, didn't have to turn around to know who was breathing fire at her neck.
"Having fun, meeting people, you know."
"No, I don't. I don't have the habit of persuading strangers into my bed in the middle of a museum."
Andy, now angrier than she already was, turned to face the Dragon. A bitter smile graced her face.
"Oh, of course not. You are more subtle with your approach. And you don't do unknown people, just helpless idiot former assistants."
Miranda stared at her, a mixture of surprise, anger and shame coloring her eyes. "Is that what you wanted to tell me when you called?"
Turning her back to Miranda again, Andy breathed a sad and quiet "No."
Closing and opening her eyes again, the editor asked. "What do you want Andrea?"
Laughing humorlessly, Andy answered. "You know what I want. You've always known."
"And you know I can't give it to you." Even if I already have.
"And I don't see why you can't give your heart to me." Andy's eyes were brimming with tears.
"Because, Andrea," Miranda laughed humorlessly, "as they say, I don't have one."
Not able to face the sadness in the eyes she knew she loved so much, Miranda left. Her love was a poison. Andrea had tasted so little of it and she was devastated.
Miranda wouldn't risk what would become of Andrea if she tasted it all.
That night, lying side by side with the man who would possibly be the next Mr. Priestly, when she tried to sleep, she was haunted by brown orbs full of sadness.
Could everything, one day, maybe, end well?
On the other side of New York, Andy lay side by side with the woman from the museum. She couldn't sleep. Sad blue eyes occupied every single thought she had.
Could everything end well for us?
I hope not to take years to update, but it will not happen so fast either.
