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 3
Miranda stepped into the low bathtub. She had scrutinized it before and found the paint chipped, but the tub clean. Andrea seemed to keep the place immaculate and you couldn't really fault her that the entire building was in dire need of an upgrade. Turning on the water, Miranda jumped and gave a muted yelp when it spluttered and made the pipes sing and moan. Eventually, she managed to set the water to the scorching heat she preferred. She tuned out the noisy pipes and closed her eyes.
Immediately, the image of Andrea standing there in just a towel appeared for her inner eyes. How seductive she had looked when she'd discussed pajamas with Miranda. At first, Miranda had thought Andrea asked which sleepwear she preferred Andrea to wear. After finally catching on, Miranda knew she had flushed a deep red, which in itself was embarrassing.
Miranda dried herself off with the pink terrycloth towel Andrea had placed on the sink for her. It was not as soft as her Egyptian cotton towels, but it was acceptable. She dressed in the flannels Andrea had provided her with. They were so washed out, the pattern was indistinguishable, but on inspection, Miranda thought she could make out Tweety Bird. She sighed but donned the pajamas. Andrea hadn't exaggerated; these were the softest flannels that she'd ever worn. Imagine that.
Bemused, Miranda wondered how she would be able to brush her teeth, until her eyes fell upon a set of Walgreens toothbrushes next to some Colgate. Andrea being thoughtful again. Something warm erupted in her chest as she buttoned the jacket. A quick glance in the cabinet behind the mirror showed some Clinique makeup removal and moisturizer. Relieved that she didn't have to resort to scrubbing her face with regular soap, she made good use of Andrea's high end products. Clearly the young woman had learned how to properly care for her skin.
Miranda glanced at her reflection after removing every trace of makeup. Stephen called her true face 'her frumpy look', and in the beginning of their relationship, this made her feel so self-conscious, she wouldn't remove her makeup until after they'd made love and he'd dozed off. Nowadays she told herself that she couldn't care less what he thought of her. It startled her that she did care very much what Andrea thought. If she would deem Miranda frumpy or anything even anything less flattering, it would really hurt. It wasn't as if Miranda was unaware of the age difference. A young woman such as Andrea probably found people closing in on forty old. Almost fifty-two, Miranda was twice Andrea's age, which was insurmountable.
She padded back through the living room area and into the bedroom. Andrea had left the bedside lamp on for her on the right side of the bed.
"You found everything all right?" Andrea whispered, making her jump.
"Yes. Thank you."
Andrea turned on her back and smiled. "You're welcome." She flipped the covers back and then blushed, avoiding Miranda's eyes.
Miranda sat down on the bed and set her cell phone to wake her at 6 AM. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that Andrea was not meeting her eyes and her cheeks were still pink.
"I don't mind if you snore, but I draw the limit at kicking." Miranda smiled inwardly at Andrea's widening eyes. "I also take offence at people monopolizing the duvet."
"I…I don't think I snore. Not loudly, anyway. As for hogging the blankets, I can't promise that. If I do, just elbow me and pull them back."
"I do not 'elbow'," Miranda said haughtily.
"Oh. Of course not."
"I pinch." Miranda chuckled at Andrea's horrified expression. "See, just the thought of that will keep you from being greedy." To her surprise, her last words brought on another crimson blush and this time Andrea actually covered her cheeks with her hands.
"God. You can't say things like that, Miranda."
Miranda blinked. "Like what?"
"About being greedy, and…stuff."
"Stuff?" Miranda deliberately raised her eyebrows. "Really, Andrea?"
"Oh. Oh! Goodnight." Andrea turned around and buried her face in her pillow.
"Goodnight," Miranda said softly and crawled into bed as well. She turned off her bedside lamp and the only light now was the lamp Andrea had left in the kitchen, probably another thoughtful gesture in case Miranda needed to get up in the night.
Fully expecting to have problems falling asleep, which were usually the case, Miranda dozed off immediately. At first, she slept comfortably and without dreaming. Then, out of nowhere, Stephen was there. She was back in her living room, and he was in her face, yelling and calling her the most horrible names. She tried to push him aside, but he grabbed her arms, tore at her blouse and laughed drunkenly when the buttons came off and one sleeve ripped at the seam. Miranda tried in vain to make him lower his voice, knowing that Caroline and Cassidy were in the house somewhere. They couldn't see this. They mustn't witness her mother being treated like she was a ragdoll in the hands of a furious, drunk giant.
Trying to get away, she pushed at him, and even if this seemed to gentle his hands, she still needed him to let go. She couldn't bare his hands to touch her, ever again.
"Miranda, please," a gentle female voice broke in. "Look up at me. It's just a dream. He's not here. Stephen can't hurt you anymore. You're here with me. See? It's me, Andy. Andrea. Come on, Miranda. Look at me."
Slowly, Miranda opened her eyes and looked up through tousled hair at Andrea. It was her. It was a dream. The room was nearly dark, but she could clearly make out Andrea's features, and what was more, she recognized her scent. Andrea also held on to her lower arms with a gentle, but firm, grip.
"There you go." Andrea smiled tremulously. "I woke up when you started murmuring and kicking the covers off both of us. When I turned around, I could tell you were dreaming—and that it wasn't good."
"It was awful," Miranda whispered.
"Can you confide in me what it was about?" Andrea lay down, resting her head in one hand and placing the other on Miranda's shoulder. "I know it involved Stephen."
"How…did I say something?" Cringing, Miranda pulled her fingers through her hair, trying to get a grip of herself.
"You said 'no, Stephen, please, don't', and so on. Was he hurting you in your dreams?"
"Yes. Shaking me. Calling me rude and terrible names. I tried to get away. I was afraid he'd wake the girls." She shuddered at the memory and rolled toward Andrea. As it turned out, she had misjudged the distance and ended up on Andrea's shoulder. Surprised, she felt Andrea wrap her arms around her, rocking her slowly.
"He can't get to you here. You can stay here until Paris, if you want to."
"Then you could stay here. He has no clue where I live. I think it's easier to keep it out of the tabloid press that way, at least for now, if you stay here rather than a hotel, or any of your posh friends."
"What posh friends?" Miranda frowned, trying to figure out who Andrea was talking about.
"Donatella? Trump and his wife? Jennifer Aniston? Tyra Banks? I could go on."
Miranda sighed. "They are not that type of friends. I enjoy them in a social setting, but I would never show myself vulnerable to either of them."
"So, does that mean you would consider staying here?" Andrea moved inconspicuously and suddenly she held Miranda very close. "I really wish you would. I'd love to have you. I know this is not exactly Upper East Side..."
"That is obvious." Miranda spoke without thinking as her mind raced, mulling Andrea's offer over. She was startled out of her whirling mind when she felt Andrea grow rigid against her.
"I guess it's not quite up to par." Andrea sighed and began shifting away from Miranda. "I'm just glad I could help you this one time."
Miranda flinched. "What…? Andrea?" She frowned as she thought back to what she'd said. "No, your apartment is not Upper East Side standard, and yes, I take you up on your kind offer, unless you had second thoughts."
Andrea's arms came around Miranda so suddenly; she felt the air gush out of her lungs. "I'm glad. I really want to be there for you."
"Why?"
"Why? Because…because…Oh, damn, because I do." Andrea hid her face against Miranda's shoulder, thus mirroring their position from before.
"What a mature answer."
"I can't answer any better." Andrea pushed her bangs from her face. "I worry. I care. I want to help. There. That's it."
"Then I'm a very lucky woman to have you in my life." Miranda ran her fingers down Andrea's cheek in a soft caress. "How about we get some sleep?"
"Yeah. Preferably without any more such dreams for you."
"From your lips to God's ears." Miranda nudged her to turn around, something Andrea did without asking. She curled up behind Andrea's back, close, but not actually touching. "Sleep well, Andrea. My alarm goes off at 6 AM."
"Six, huh? Oh goodie. I usually go up at 5.30, I get to sleep in."
Miranda snorted softly. "Really. Wonderful."
"Hm. I used to think that office hours meant working nine to five."
This made Miranda chuckle. "Not at Runway, obviously. Waste of time."
"A little waste every now and then can be a good thing?"
"If I let you go back to bed another half hour, can I persuade you to make me more of that fantastic coffee?" Miranda inhaled the scent of some fruity, fresh shampoo from Andrea's hair.
"I'll do that anyway. Works doubly well for me, actually."
"How exactly does it work for you? The obvious answer excluded, of course."
"Not sure what you mean by that, but the way I figure…if I make you a huge coffee, and then some to-go, that'll save me at least one coffee run at work." Andrea sounded very pleased with herself.
"And here I thought you meant that bribing me with coffee would appease the dragon."
"There is that." Andrea giggled sleepily. "'night, Miranda."
"Good night, Andrea." Miranda heard Andrea's breathing grow even almost instantly. She waited a few minutes, but realized she was apprehensive about going back to sleep. Hesitating, she eventually placed a gentle hand on Andrea's waist. She slid a little closer. Perhaps she would be able to sleep now? Just as she closed her eyes and willed her nerves to calm down, Andrea shifted under her hand. She scooted back close enough for their bodies to align, and took Miranda's hand. Pulling it forward, she tucked it against her stomach.
Miranda's heart picked up speed again, but this time for an entirely different reason that had nothing to do with fear.
#######################
To be continued in part 3/?
#######################