Disclaimer: Own nada when it comes to The Devil Wears Prada – neither the movie nor the book. Alas.
Pairing: Andy/Miranda (MirAndy)
Rating: G – NC-17, depending on chapter. This one is G.
Summary: Miranda walks out of a dead drunk Stephen two days before Paris. She ends up in a bar, sitting right next to a pretty girl that turns out to be Andrea, her assistant, who in turn makes her an unexpected offer.
A/N: This is pretty a/u, as I've messed with events and timeline. Just so you know!
Give In to Me
An Andy/Miranda Devil Wears Prada Fan Fiction
By Gun Brooke
Part 2
Andy poured coffee into two mugs and added the milk. It was the two percent milk, not skimmed, which Miranda preferred, but that would have to do. She didn't drink coffee this late normally, but if she was going to keep up with Miranda and cope with the fact that her boss would be spending the night in her tiny apartment, coffee was called for.
"Here you go, Miranda," Andy said and placed the steaming mug on the coffee table. "Hope it's to your satisfaction."
"I'm sure it is. Thank you."
Miranda saying thank you? That was a first. Andy smiled broadly, unable to contain the little glow of happiness to be the recipient to something as rare as a pleasantry from Miranda. "You're welcome." She grabbed the remote, then hesitated. "Mind if I turn on the TV for a while? I'll keep the sound low."
"Don't be ridiculous, Andrea. This is your home and your TV." Miranda waved her hand dismissively before returning her focus on the Book and her coffee mug. She eyed the latter, reading the text on it.
Andy gazed down at her own plain, white mug. Oh, no. She'd given Miranda the one with silly text on. God.
"Really, Andrea? 'Brains are for brunettes'?" She raised an eyebrow at Andy.
"Uhm. A present from my friend Lily. I only have three mugs left. Nate took the plain blue ones. They were his, I suppose."
"Ah. The infamous Nate."
"What?" Andy blinked. What did Miranda mean by this?
"Your former boyfriend. Really, you don't think I hadn't picked up on your frantic whispers as you tried to appease him, either out by your desk, or when I've called you? On a number of times."
"Oh." Andrea clung to her mug. "I…no, I didn't realize. Sorry if it made you feel…I mean, awkward or something."
"Oh, I didn't take it personally. You're my assistant. I'm not about to let a whiny boyfriend get in my way when I need you…your services." Miranda colored faintly and shifted where she sat on the well-used couch.
"He did resent my job." Andy spoke slowly. "Kept saying I had sold my soul to—" Feeling her eyes grow huge, she quieted and sipped from her mug, hiding behind it.
"Sold your soul to the devil." Miranda put down the Book and tapped her mug with a perfectly manicured index finger. "Yes, I suppose that fits." She tilted her head. "Do you feel the same?"
"You know I don't!" Andy put her mug down. "I really like working for you. I happen to think that I can learn so much from you, just by observation alone." Feeling her confidence grow as she tried to explain. "I know that my job is simple, at least on the surface, but watching you, your routines and your decisions, is a tremendous learning experience."
Miranda looked surprised, slightly in awe as a matter of fact. "I had no idea."
"You're amazing, Miranda. I mean, the way you handle everything that's going on. I really think so."
"Thank you. You are quite special, Andrea. I cannot think of any other assistant that would open their homes to me. Not without ulterior motives."
"I have no motives, I promise." Andy moved from the arm chair to the couch, eager to prove she only meant well. She sat down and looked at Miranda whose breathing seemed to quicken.
"I know. It's unfathomable and quite rare in my world. I…I can't remember when I've been able to rely on anyone last. It's refreshing—and unnerving." She moved her shoulders as if to demonstrate how uneasy she was feeling.
Andy knew for a fact that Miranda was not unnerved by her. She couldn't be, could she? Miranda had so much to deal with, personally and professionally that a lowly assistant wouldn't climb very high on the 'unnerving-Miranda-ladder'. "That may be," she conceded lightly, but I give you my word that all I want is to be there for you and help you."
"I believe you. Or your good intentions, rather. The question is not if, but why. Why are you like this toward me?"
Andy thought fast. "Not just toward you. I think it's in my nature to be…uhm…caring? I come from a long line of caring women, my mother tells me. She's a very warm person, and so is my grandma."
"Yes, I realize this. I also know that it is my personality to not instill such reactions in others. Especially not assistants."
"I disagree." Andy gathered courage and took Miranda's right hand in hers. "We all need someone to stand up for us. Especially when something really bad happens."
"And you…you appointed yourself as that someone a while back, didn't you?" Miranda didn't pull her hand free, instead she turned it, palm up, and laced their fingers together.
Andy's heart thundered so fast in her chest, she was sure it was going to break its mooring and go into orbit. Miranda's eyes held hers and she simply couldn't look away.
"Tell me, Andrea, why do you care so much what happens to me?" Miranda pulled up one corner of her mouth in a crooked smile. "Most assistants would have thought it divine justice that the Dragon Lady finally meets some resistance. No matter where."
"I'm not one of them, Miranda." Andrea dared to raise her free hand and push the silver grey lock from Miranda's forehead. "I can say why, not exactly, that I care the way I do. I just know that you are special. I have never met anyone like you before."
"Is that so?" Miranda still had her enigmatic smile in place and seemed enthralled with Andy's musings.
"Yeah. I…you confuse me. Often."
"Is that good or bad?" Miranda practically purred and Andy's stomach clenched.
"G-good. Mostly." Swallowing hard, Andy wondered how she'd be able to remove herself from this intimate closeness that bewitched her, without making Miranda recoil. "Well, uhm, I'll just let you get on with it. The Book, I mean. Get on with the Book." Andy stood. "I'll go put new sheets on the bed for you."
"Ah. Yes. Your bed. What size is it?"
"Queen."
"Acceptable." Miranda nodded and returned her focus to the Book.
Hurrying toward the bedroom area of her studio apartment, Andy nearly stubbed her toes on the dresser. She opened the bottom drawer and saw to her relief that her best set of cotton sheets were clean. Like her grandmother, she always kept bags of lavender among her sheets and towels, and now she inhaled with the same delight as always. She hoped Miranda would like the scent as well.
She made the bed quickly and carried the used sheets to the hamper in the bathroom. Double checking that the bathroom was sufficiently clean, she undressed, put her long hair up with a scrunchy and stepped into the shower. Used to the noisy pipes, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the warm spray of water pounding her shoulders. After a long day at her desk, and running errands, she reveled in the massage. Getting out, she wrapped herself in a large terrycloth towel. Thinking she should put a clean one out for Miranda, she gasped at the idea her boss being naked in her shower. Not that she been able to resist envisioning Miranda's soft breasts when she'd been given a glimpse of their outline. Miranda loved deep necklines and thin, white fabric, which sometimes allowed the beholder a little more detail than Miranda probably realized. But from that to actually being less than a few feet away from a totally naked Miranda was something completely different. She hung a blue, practically brand new terrycloth towel for Miranda. No doubt Miranda had Egyptian cotton towels that felt like velvet, but these were Ikea's best towels, at least.
Looking around, Andy realized her mistake. She had taken the shower before fetching her underwear and pajamas. Now she had to parade past Miranda dressed in nothing else by a towel. Great.
She tried to look casual as she walked through the living room area and as she reached the door to the bedroom, she began to relax.
"Andrea?"
Oh that low, purring, surreal voice. Andy turned, clutching the towel above her breasts with a cold hand. "Yes?"
Miranda had spoken without looking up. Now she raised her head and opened her mouth to speak, only to close it again. She blinked slowly. "Oh, my."
"What can I do for you, Miranda?"
"You…I…" Miranda quieted and simply stared.
Andy forced herself to look casual. "Yes?"
"Good Lord, I seem to have lost my train of thought." Miranda looked bemused, but her glance also roamed over Andy's bare shoulders, the length of the towel down to where it ended mid-thigh.
"I'll just get my pajamas and…oh that reminds me. Do you like flannels or boxers?"
"Excuse me?" Miranda's eyebrows rose.
"Do you prefer flannel pajamas or cotton boxers and a tank top?"
Miranda looked blank.
"To sleep in, Miranda?" Andy elaborated, feeling a giggle coming on at Miranda's nonplussed expression.
"Oh. Oh!" Miranda swallowed. "Flannels will do nicely, thank you."
"You're in luck. I just washed my favorite pair. They're a little old, but they're the softest you can imagine." She turned and walked into the bedroom where she put on her favorite way to sleep, flannel bottoms and a cotton Fruit of the Loom tank top. She found her favorite flannels and to her relief they weren't too wrinkled. She chose a floral pattern set of sheets and returning to the living room, she placed the pajamas on the easy chair armrest. "If you move over here you'll have better lighting and I can make up the couch."
"Why would you do that?" Miranda's eyebrows pulled together a fraction of an inch, a sign of frostier temperament Andy recognized.
"Why…of course you're getting the bed. That goes without saying." Andy fiddled with the pillowcase.
"Yes, yes," Miranda flicked her hand. "What I'm saying is, we decided to share, didn't we?"
"We did?" Andy's leg began trembling again. She was pretty sure she would've remembered any such conversation. "I—I don't think…"
"You said you had a queen size bed. I said it was sufficient. I would never throw you out of your own bed, Andrea." Miranda's eyes narrowed. "Unless you find it completely unappealing to sleep next to me."
"No. No, no. I…I just wasn't aware that was what you meant." How on earth was she going to maneuver out of this mess? "Are you sure? I mean, I d-don't mind." God, who was she kidding? If she had ever dreamed of such a scenario, and Andy had a pretty good idea that she had, more than once, she was sure she loved every second of any type of closeness to Miranda.
"So?" Miranda looked annoyed and impatient now.
"I'll just go put these sheets back then. Now that we cleared that up." Dreading going to bed, Andy put the sheets back in the linen closet. Returning to the living room, she gently cleared her throat. "Uhm. I just thought I'd ask if you have a favorite side. Of the bed I mean. I'm pretty tired and—"
"Right." Miranda spoke absentmindedly while perusing the Book.
"What? Oh. Okay. Left for me then." Andy remained very still for a moment, studying Miranda. Her silver hair glimmered in the light of Andy's reading lamp, and her skin looked so soft and radiant. The way she devoured each page, like some mix between a predator and lover, made Andy wonder if that was how Miranda regarded a lover as well. Disturbed by her thoughts, she hurried into the bathroom, brushed her teeth, and then hid in the bedroom. Crawling into bed on the left side, which was her favorite side to sleep on, she wondered if she would be able to fall asleep before Miranda came to bed.
Part of her hoped so, but another, much bigger part, did not.
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To be continued in part 3/?
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