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
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Part 4
Andy rounded the Mercedes and slid into the backseat next to Miranda. Roy, used to Miranda's unpredictability, hadn't even blinked at the fact that Miranda was stepping out of the less than posh building where Andy lived in the wee hours of the morning.
"Good morning," he greeted and pulled the car out into traffic.
"Good morning," Andy said and yawned discreetly behind her hand. "Drop me off at Starbucks when we get near the office, please?"
"Sure thing, Andy."
"Don't forget to get whatever you have in the morning for yourself. Use the company card for that too." Miranda spoke without looking up from the Book.
"Don't you get motion-sickness from reading while en route?" Andy turned her upper body to face Miranda. "I would be green within five minutes."
"Hasn't happened yet," Miranda said, glancing up for a second. "How about all those times when you've taken notes for me in the car?"
"Mind over matter, I suppose," Andy replied with a grin. "Honestly, I'd rather focus on your than Roy's neck. No offence, Roy."
"None taken," Roy muttered, probably wondering what Andy had been smoking since she talked to Miranda like a peer.
"Well," Miranda said, smiling faintly as she returned her focus on the Book. "I guess I'll have to keep a lookout for green in the future."
"Thank you. Nice of you. Or you're just worried I'll get sick all over your Louboutins."
Miranda snapped her eyes up. "Don't even dare."
"I won't, I won't." Andy smiled sleepily, knowing that very few things had ever felt as nice as being a little silly with Miranda Priestly."
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Emily hurried through the door, pulling a rack of clothes behind her. She seemed frazzled and out of breath, and when the door caught on one of the wheels of the rack, her foot gave in and she fell onto the floor. Crying out, she clutched her ankle. "Bugger-bugger-bugger!"
"Emily!" Andy circled her desk and threw herself onto the floor next to Emily. "Oh, God, your foot."
"What on earth is going on out here?" Miranda asked from the doorway to her office. She looked bemusedly at Emily. "I'll call 911," she said and grabbed the phone on Andrea's desk. "We need an ambulance to the Elias-Clarke building, Runway's main office. Escort them up when they get here. That's all." Turning to the moaning Emily, she lowered herself gracefully and sat with perfect balance on her heels next to them.
Andy thought Emily was about to faint, not so much from the pain of the obviously fractured ankle, but from Miranda's display of empathy.
"I'll get some ice," Andy said and jumped up. She went into the small kitchen and emptied a plastic bag that held some cheese cubes into the sink. Filling it with ice cubes from the dispenser on the small freezer, she wrapped a towel around it and hurried back to Emily. The sight of Miranda shifting to sit with her back against Emily's desk, her hand resting on the injured woman's head, which rested on Miranda's lap, made Andy nearly topple over as well.
"Here, Em," Andy managed and placed the ice on the injured ankle. "It's something at least."
"It-it helps with the th-throbbing." Emily looked up at Miranda and it was as if she had problems focusing. "M-Miranda?"
"Yes?"
"Just checking. Bloody hell, it's really you."
"She sounds concussed," Miranda said to Andy.
"She sure does. That or she hasn't had her daily cheese cube."
"My God, what's happened?" Nigel wrestled the stuck rack to the side and paled somewhat when he saw Emily. Then his eyes fell upon Miranda and he actually took a step back.
"She's probably broken her foot," Andy said. "Security has called the paramedics and will show them up when they get here."
"There's a horde of people coming for the run-through," Nigel said and scratched his bald scalp. "Postpone?" He turned to Miranda.
"Yes. Push the meeting back until we know Andrea is returning from the hospital."
"I can go with her?" Andy was relieved. She just couldn't let Emily go to the ER on her own. She thought she might as well push for a little more. "Can Serena come too?"
Miranda pursed her lips, but it wasn't from being displeased, Andy thought. It was more a contemplating expression this time. "I can't see why not. That way you can return sooner, and you know enough to stand in for Serena at the run-through. This will also be something of a preview of what it will be like in Paris without Emily."
Emily whimpered and covered her eyes as tears leaked from her eyes. "Oh, shit. Paris. I can't miss Paris. I can't. Not after all this time."
"You can't travel with a broken foot. We leave tomorrow evening," Andy said softly. She pulled Emily's hand away from her face. "I'll make sure any garment they want to bestow upon me is in your size, okay? I promise."
Emily hiccupped. "Really?" She drew a trembling breath. "Why would you do this?"
"This drama is completely unnecessary," Miranda sighed and shook her head. "We're going to bring enough clothes home with us to dress half this office for the entire season. In other words, there will be complimentary clothes for everyone, including the two of you."
"But I really don't need—"
"Andrea." Steel encased softness met Andy's gaze as Miranda made it clear that her word was law.
"That settles that." Andrea smiled encouragingly down at Emily. "And here comes Serena."
The tall Brazilian stood staring for a few seconds. "I didn't believe Nigel when he told me. I can't imagine how you managed this, namorada." She knelt next to Miranda who seemed relieved to let Serena take her place on the floor. Serena held Emily tenderly, stroking her hair. "I'll take care of you. Shh. Don't cry." She looked up at Andy who held the ice against the swollen ankle. "Thank you. And thank you, Miranda, for allowing Andy to come with us to…Bellevue?"
"Presbyterian. I'll make sure her insurance covers it." Miranda walked to her desk and soon they heard her issuing orders to unknown minions.
"Can you believe Miranda Priestly sat on the floor?" Serena shook her head in amazement. "If I hadn't seen it, I would have called you a liar for trying to trick me."
"We all have hidden depths and sides that we don't let show easily," Andy said diplomatically. "Emily is important to Miranda."
"I am?" Emily whimpered huskily. "Bloody hell."
"Exactly," Serena said and smiled. "Bloody hell indeed."
Heavy footfalls, rarely heard in this part of the Elias-Clarke building, approached and soon two men, one middle-age and one younger, appeared, pushing a stretcher. "Ah, that looks pretty painful, young lady. We'll get you some pain relief before we load you." The older man smiled fatherly at Emily who did her best to glare.
"We better not give you too much since you're so thin."
This comment made Emily beam at the paramedic as if he was her long lost father. "Thank you."
"You'll be practically pain-free," the man said reassuringly, completely missing the point why Emily thanked him.
Andy stood to give the men room to work and walked into Miranda's office. She was no longer on the phone; instead she was working on her computer. Andy waited until Miranda acknowledged her.
"Yes?"
"Is there anything I can do before I go? Will you be okay?"
Miranda's eyebrows rose in unguarded surprise. "I assure you I'm 'okay'."
Fidgeting with her bracelet, Andy regretted her words. How juvenile. "Uhm. Well, I'll be back really soon. The run-through shouldn't be pushed back too long."
"Good." Miranda stood suddenly and walked over to the corner of her office that wasn't readily visible from the outer area. Impatiently she motioned for Andrea to approach her. "Make sure she has everything she needs. Serena doesn't have to come back this afternoon. Emily will need someone there when they set the fracture."
"You think they need to do that?" Andy felt herself go pale.
"Yes. There is no way her bones are aligned correctly. I hope they can do it without surgery."
"God. Poor Em." Andrea wiped quickly at her eyes. "She's heartbroken about Paris."
"Be that as it may, Andrea, you can't assume her pain as well. It's enough that you've taken on having me stay at your apartment with all the drama that comes with it. You have such a tender heart, you worry me."
"It is nice to have you stay with me, even if it's only a few nights." Andy bit her tongue but too late.
Miranda's eyes widened and Andy knew she had caught on as quickly as she always did. Trying to look casual, Andy smiled brightly. "So nothing else you need?"
"Actually there is. When you return from the Presbyterian, I want you to swing by my townhouse and bring me the folders on my desk in the study."
"The townhouse?" Andy hesitated. "What about…?"
"Stephen is not there. He's at work."
"Oh. Well, no problem then." Andy made a mental note to bring the key to Miranda's home. "See you in a bit, then."
"Thank you."
Andy smiled with true warmth at the rare words from Miranda. "You're welcome.
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The townhouse was quiet when Andy let herself in. She turned off the alarm and walked upstairs to Miranda's study. The folders sat neatly on the desk and she took the time to look around to see if she spotted something else that Miranda might need. Her eyes fell upon a lovely snapshot of the twins that Miranda had framed. They sat on a beach, probably in the Hamptons, with their arms around each other, using one hand each to create a heart directed at the photographer. Miranda would love to have this with her. Andy tucked it into one of the folders and turned to leave.
Stephen stood in the doorway, his arms folded over his chest. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he said sharply.
Her heart racing, Andy fought to stay calm. "Hello, Mr. Tomlinson. I'm just fetching some folders for Miranda. I didn't know you were home, or I would've rang the doorbell—"
"Always the dutiful little gofer, aren't you? I've seen you sneak in and out of this house so many times, and always, Miranda forgets everything. She has to get her hands on the fucking Book." He stepped closer to Andy.
Now she felt the smell of alcohol on Stephen's breath and this scared her. He was not to be trusted. She refused to back up and shifted the folders in her arms until she could stick one hand into the pocket of her coat. Finding the cell phone, she clung to it for support.
"I have to go now. I'm expected back at Runway—"
"You know where she's been staying, don't you?" Stephen narrowed his eyes. "Which hotel? I've called all the ones I thought she would deign to stay at, but no luck. You know."
"I don't know anything about any hotels," Andy said truthfully.
"The fuck you don't." Stephen moved closer and took her by the shoulders in a bruising grip. "You're not leaving here until you tell me where she's staying tonight. I know she won't come home since the little brats are not here."
"Let me go." Andy lowered her voice, trying to sound as confident as Miranda. "I said, let me go."
"Are you deaf?" he said with a sneer. "You're not going anywhere until you tell me where she's staying."
"Mr. Tomlinson, your judgment is impaired. If you were sober you'd realize how inappropriate this is." Andy was equal parts angry and afraid now. "I'm telling you again, let me go!"
"I'll tell you what's inappropriate. The way you, all of her damn assistants fall head over heels for her. You all think she's the queen, when all she is, is a pathetic, middle-age woman who has conjured up this image of herself as fucking royalty." Stephen pushed Andy back at the desk. "I loathe each and every one of you!" He pushed her again, making her lose her balance.
Crying out, Andy grabbed for the edge of the desk, dropping the folders that crashed to the floor. The pictures fanned out as the content spilled in all directions. Pushing now at Stephen with one hand and holding onto the desk with the other, Andy screamed as his hand closed around her neck.
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Miranda took the opportunity to handle some of the less pressing emails while she waited for Andrea to return. Once the run-through was over, she would take Andrea to the closet to help Miranda pack and carry the clothes she needed for Paris. She was grateful that she always kept her passport in her purse, one less thing to consider. Andrea had all the tickets and itineraries and the hotel arrangements were all taken care of a long time ago.
Andrea was worrisome. Too soft, to easily hurt, and far too beautiful. The way she had allowed Miranda to curl up behind her even if they hadn't been close enough to touch, was endearing. The fact that Miranda's body seemed to gravitate toward Andrea's almost of its own volition, was of course something she would have to deal with. She couldn't allow herself to act on such emotions. Delicious and dangerous, the feelings could be her downfall emotionally, Miranda knew herself well enough to know this for a fact. Never had she allowed an assistant, or even a friend, to pierce through the protective layers she'd fashioned around her heart. If it hadn't been for Andrea's influence, there was no way she would have taken care of Emily the way she did earlier.
Her cell phone rang and Andrea's name flashed across the screen.
"Where are you?" Miranda said in way of answering.
Muted voices was heard and at first Miranda thought Andrea was still at the Presbyterian despite the fact that she'd called only forty minutes ago to let Miranda know she was on her way to the townhouse.
"Let me go."
It was Andrea's voice, and a shudder travelled down Miranda's spine. She pressed her cell phone closer to her ear. "Andrea?"
"Are you deaf? You're not going anywhere until you tell me where she's staying."
A brusque, male voice. Stephen. He was at the townhouse. Oh, God, how could she have been so careful to even let Andrea close to her home before she threw the bastard out and changed the locks?
Miranda grabbed her office phone and this time she dialed 911 directly.
"I loathe each and every one of you!" Stephen growled and there was a horrible loud noise over the cell phone.
And then Andrea screamed.
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To be continued in part 5.
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