Rizzoli was right.
Andy needed a break. Tossing her keys into her coffee table bowl, placing her badge and Glock down. Late night TV wasn't the answer, opening her fridge, she really needed to start occasionally grocery shopping and consider going organic from Dr Isles endless suggestions at lunch time.
Rizzoli retorted the other day at lunch the only green she was having was relish on her burger.
No way to Kale or beet juice. Yeah she would go healthy, sometime eventually, not tonight. Cold pizza. Shower first.
Yawning as Andy pulled off her shirt and slipped off her tank top not aware someone watched her closely. Peeling down her dark jeans. The Artist's cold eyes took in Andy's exquisite beauty, lips moistened at her displayed toned naked body in his second hidden camera.
Dt. Andy Bedelia Sachs was delicious. Perfect. Wait. Zooming in on one imperfection. Wouldn't do. Hadn't noticed that before. Andrea Sachs had a flaw and the artist did not like flawed canvas.
The Artist was a devoted voyeur, had stalked for many months. Had images of her at her precinct, out shopping, sipping her coffee with Rizzoli and Isles. He had been waiting, stalking, watching and had trespassed in her apartment, just like in Priestly's home.
If known she was being spied on by live Wi-Fi feed, she would feel violated. Even when Andy slept, he watched. How many nights he'd watched her sleep in her bed, covers thrown off. Just him and her.
A faded article of Andy as a child was on his work table.
He began pinning his newest creation on her glancing on computer monitors at both Miranda and then at Andy in each of their homes as he pulled thread through a needle. Meeting the living eyes of his newest doll. Perfection.
''Come now Saffron, no tears or I'll prick you and you will have made me ruin my sewing.'' Her eyes looked into the Artist's. A lone tear ran down her face. She couldn't speak, she couldn't blink, and she couldn't move she could only silently scream.
Andy's Bed
She was dreaming again.
''Shhh Andy. Lights out.''
Those words whispered to Andy's earlobe, trickled down her spine.
In bed, made Andy's long body recoil at the dream again, awaking it was just a dream, wasn't real. A nightmare. Calm down Sachs, feeling around her night stand, flicking on lamp light.
Soaked, it had been so real again, tracing the jagged scar down her arm, the ridged cicatrix of ''Mine.'' Splashed water on her face, looking into the basin mirror. This case was burning her out. Do you dream of monsters Sachs? Andy did. One monster.
Andy knew she wasn't going to go back to sleep anytime soon. Tying up her chestnut hair messily, Andy long fingers began unrolling her sculpture tools, handling cutting wire for cutting moist clay and using wall sand screens evening out the rough edges on her work.
Andy began getting lost in her work. The repetitive routine soothing her.
By dawn decided she was walking away from Miranda Priestly. Self-Preservation Sachs. Kissed her and it had been a great kiss until Andy discovered later Miranda was still married. To Stephen.
Smudging wet clay on her cheek, as she ran her hand over her face.
Time to let it go. Keep this to herself, how she was in love with Miranda. Had been since well before Paris.
Nate even knew. Read it. Andy kinda crashed into love with Miranda.
If Miranda had looked into her eyes then, would she have seen what was inside her heart, how Andy felt, would Miranda have even cared. More than likely no.
Besides this was crazy, Andy and Miranda barely knew each other. Sure Andy had been her assistant once but did Miranda know one thing about her. Nada.
Whereas Andy knew almost everything about her ex-Boss. Andy bet if she asked Miranda to name two things Andy liked she couldn't.
In all their time together never had a conversation yet. She was disposable, just another underling to ignore.
Wiping her hands from clay on a towel. Spraying her sculpture, covering it with a bag.
Had Stephen. To protect her, wake up against him, whisper her thoughts to, that image made Andy wince and bite her lower lip.
Rizzoli and Isles could take over the case easily. Yup as soon as she got to her Precinct she was handing over the case.
Buzzing interrupted Andy's internal declaration of freedom from Priestly.
Who in the world? Rizzoli or Isles hadn't called. Not urgent.
Pressing entry her Super really needed to fix the static, hardly hear who. Glancing at her IPhone time. Saturday 7am.
A knock, Andy's doorbell didn't work.
Opening her apartment door, Andy Sachs brown eyes hardened, speaking of the devil in elegant couture. Miranda Priestly.
''Hi.'' Andy sputtered out.
What was Priestly doing here? At Andy's place. Not cuddling with spouse Stevie on this weekend morning.
Miranda stood in front of Andrea pressing her lips together timidly. Should have phoned first, what if Andrea had someone here staying over. Sleeping over. Like that cook.
''Good Morning. Andréa. I hope I didn't wake you, I didn't, did I?''
Andy shook her head. ''I was up.''
Tilting her snowy head, Andrea didn't look like she'd slept. Taking in faded cut off jean shorts and a hanging off her one shoulder, an oversized sweatshirt that someone as Fashion's most powerful and conscientious as Miranda was, should dutifully inform Sachs, Flashdance was in 1983. The look was over.
'' May I come in Andrea?''
Andy stepped back to let Miranda inside. ''Yeah sure.''
Only Miranda Priestly would show up at Andy's door, dressed like she was holding a Runway board meeting and holding a hamper. She'd bite. Why? Why come to her place?
''Why are you here?''
Miranda took in Andrea's home. Shelves of paperback and larger books, a John Singer Sargent print of Portrait of Madame X on one wall. Smiled there was lots to discover about each other.
''I wanted to see you. Andrea. Explain everything…about Stephen and our kiss last night I...''
''No explanation needed. I get it. Our kiss was just that. Casual.'' Andy shrugged as if it meant very little to her. Play it cool Sachs. Don't let her see you care.
Miranda hid her hurt. Casual. Hadn't felt casual. A spark between them. Their kiss felt unbelievable to her, weak in the knees buckling, not just casual or meaningless. Disappointed, she read too much into Andrea. Had hoped for more.
''I see.'' Mulling the word casual like the word stuff. Her pride stung, her heart hurt. She had scraped off her frostiness a little bit this morning as Roy drove her to Andrea's. Wanted to start anew. Get past the Dragon Lady perceptions.
This changed everything her good intentions, her wanting to show Andy she had a likeable side, a hopefully lovable side. She had even brought muffins!
Andy didn't care. The insensitive, inconsiderate, reprobate how could she expect more of her?
Felt her icy demeanour rejuvenating her defensive protective shield of Editor surfacing and resurrecting. Thrusting a magazine at Andy.
''Andrea, I found it, it took me all night, it was one of Runways first September issues and the stitching on that gown is rare, only a master couturier could do that type of work, the boning and corsetry alone and to sew directly to skin.''
Grimacing at the thought, she could only imagine the agony of being sewn into silk, sitting down primly across from Andy who perched on the coffee table edge.
''Great.'' Andy's defined brows furrowed. ''Listen... Miranda I'm going to be requesting I be taken off this case.''
''What? But you can't. Andrea. Why?'' Blue irises met hers shocked.
''It's for the best we don't see each other again.'' Andy hadn't expected to have to tell Miranda face to face. It was a lot harder. Didn't want to do this. Had to. Actually better for both their sakes.
Andy saw she'd made The Dragon Lady very upset. Sprung up, almost pacing holes into her wooden floors. ''You are going to leave me, with a killer stalking me. Andrea, I know we have never seen eye to eye but… you intend to leave me unprotected in the middle of this!'' Truly didn't care.
Andrea watched a side of Miranda she had never seen, angry beyond icy disdain and aloofness. She was positively furious. Boiling. ''You'll be assigned another detective, and Rizzoli will still be here and Maura, you like Maura. They will handle everything.''
A snort of disbelief from Miranda.
Miranda pursed her lips. Would she expect anything less from someone who walked away in Paris? Now face to face, admits to just casually kissing her in Runway's Closet. The going gets tough and Andrea runs. Well she didn't care, like or love cowards.
''Fine. Goodbye Andrea.'' Andy was barely looked at, her turn to walk away.
Andy felt like she'd been socked in her stomach. Leaning against the door that was slammed after Miranda. Staring at the table with the basket that Miranda had brought. She was gone.
Miranda was finally out of her life for good. Why didn't she feel happy, elated, and free?
She saw in the hamper, muffins. The smell making her remember when she use to sneakily eat at her desk when she had been a lowly assistant. Chocolate java chip and Peach raspberry muffins. Starbucks. Her favourites.
Emily had forbidden any food consumption at their desks, but sneakily would eat celery sticks like a ravenous rabbit, told bluntly Andy could survive on Miranda's cold coffee rejects if she felt sluggish. Miranda had noticed. Damn it. Why? Why now?
What had she done chasing Miranda out of her life?
Andy was in no shape for love. With her demons. Yet Andy went after Miranda, hoping the elevator went on the fritz. Had to catch up with her.
Stupid elevator, walking down another flight of stairs, blinking burning eyes. Meant nothing, so little, she would leave her at the mercy of a killer. She broke the narrow heel of her Louboutins, stumbled down.
Left her phone back there. Wonderful Miranda. Firming her jaw, when she finally left this dwelling, she'd have Roy collect it. Good, she wouldn't have to humiliate herself further by seeing Sachs again. Ever.
Opening the fire exit. Andy saw the back of Miranda's silvery head. ''Don't open that door.'' Too late.
Sprinklers came on. Andy's superintendent was just about the worse repairman. He'd somehow managed to mis-wire everything in the building.
Soaked, plastered wet silvery tresses to her face.
Feeling very light headed.
Blue eyes rolled back. Caught.
What was it with trying to leave Miranda's Priestly for good and catching her in her arms lately? Keeping your distance Sachs was proving harder to achieve.
It just wasn't that simple, to stay away from Miranda, easier said than done, when fate wanted to keep pushing Miranda Priestly resoundingly into her arms. Her logical mind kept telling her starting anything was a mistake. Andy's heart just kept out ruling her mind.
Pressing two fingers to her pulse. Maybe fainting because of upset, fatigue or this late August heatwave or Miranda was diabetic or worse pregnant by Stephen.
Andy was glad it was only one more flight up. Carried back to her apartment.
In Bed
Miranda's eyes slowly opened, narrowing on concerned brown. Looking down.
Gasping why was she almost naked. What was she doing in Sachs bed? Pulling up a sheet almost to her chin, Sachs could wipe that dopey grin off her face right now and give her back her clothes.
''Hi again.''
Hissing through clenched teeth despite pink tinging her ivory cheekbones ''Where are my clothes?'' Andrea had undressed her. Could she be more mortified?
Andy blushed. ''They're a bit wet.''
Miranda's mouth upturned to an icy crocodile smile, waspish. ''Wet?'' She'd risk cold, flu, hypothermia to get away from her.
Andy approached the bed, with Miranda in it. Given a snarl. ''Stay right there Sachs and give me my clothes!''
''Miranda I'm drying them.''
Miranda small voice whimpered. ''Sachs you machine dried my Valentino.'' Once blindly attracted to Andréa now she was going to kill her. Once mercifully let Andy asking how to spell Theyskens slide but not her new fall 2014 one of kind haute couture suit designed for her by Valentino himself besmirched with Bounce or worse shrunk in Maytag or LG.
Foul philistine of fashion.
''No there hanging to dry.'' Andy huffed.
''Do you have high or low pressure or diabetes Miranda?'' Andy was flicked away.
''I suffer from vascovagal syncope, Sachs.'' Was Andrea seeking to obtain her full medical history? Was Sachs implying she was frail? Given a glacial perturbed look. That normally Andy would have laughed at, sobering it was Miranda.
''Oh.'' Andy held a top in her hand. Moving closer to her bed. Have to ask Maura what vascovagal syncope was.
''Back Sachs.'' Andy turned around. On tip of tongue to tell Miranda so she'd undressed her and seen her half naked.
Snatching some type of garment Andy handed to her. Cotton and oversized, at least it covered her lingerie. Putting it on, under the sheet. Trying to get up. Squirming to the side of the bed, making sure Andy didn't see one more inch of her than she already had seen.
Yelping.
Andy bent. ''You grazed your knee.'' Touching her skin.
''Why do you care?'' Andy glanced up at her shrewish dragon.
Whose wide blue eyes were following Andy's fingers gliding down her velvety skin to her scraped knee. Gruffly. ''Just hold still.''
Examining her knee with gentle soft fingertips, dark cognac eyes trailing Miranda's porcelain skin. Unscrewing a bottle of peroxide. ''It'll sting.''
Miranda rolled her eyes, hissed as Andy began dabbing it, with bent head Andy blew on it. Miranda bit her lip feeling Andrea's breath on her knee. Resisted stroking Andy's unruly chestnut tresses curling her hand on the mattress.
''There you'll live Priestly.''
Andy looked bemused. ''Now you can by all means stay and sulk in my bed till your clothes are dry or have these delicious muffins with me and I might just make ridiculously expensive roasted coffee, possibly piping hot but just for you.''
Left a fuming Dragon Lady under her sheets.
Miranda glared at Sachs. She didn't sulk. Crossing her arms.
Inviting her to eat and partake in what she'd kindly brought. Don't let me keep you from the trough Sachs.
If Page Six could see her now.
Using Sachs bathroom, examining her hanging clothes which were soaked. Stuck with Sachs.
Pinching her nose bridge. Her phone was waterlogged. Her Hermes purse was also emptied and drying.
What was she supposed to do pretend everything was fine? Like Andrea hadn't said she wanted off her case.
Well Miranda you cannot hide in the bathroom any longer.
Passing one sculpture of a bird, pretty work. Like Houdon. Must ask Andrea what gallery she bought it at. Admittedly she was snooping Sachs was an enigma she wanted to unravel. To know. Even just a little.
Saw her magazine Runway, open to her Letter from Editor. Beneath it Guns and Ammo. Deplorable.
Picking up one book with just dots. A photograph fell out of it.
She was very pretty no beautiful. Young. That's why. Sachs felt nothing for her. Had someone. Her.
''A Book of braille. Miranda.'' Andy spoke, bending and plucking it up gently. Miranda could tell Andrea loved her, just by the radiance in her eyes. Felt it. Poured into Andy's vibrant orbs.
Placed it back inside the book. Shut it with snap.
Hollowly to Andy. ''She's is very beautiful.''
Beaming at Miranda. '' Yes she was.''
''Come.''
Now Miranda knew, Andy was involved with someone, she just wanted her clothes dry and to leave, Sachs set her large table in her eat in kitchen, saw over Andy's shoulder, an empty fridge. Andy saw her look, defensive. ''I do shop from time to time.''
Unpacking the hamper, organic honey, lavender, heather and lemon tree honey from Loire at $105 per jar, jams and Sunraysia juices.
Joined Andy sat across from her who liked her oversized Narc Unit T-shirt on Miranda who plucked at it disparingly. Blushed at the logo and saying that was rude Sachs. It showed a 7 headed Hydra legend with all the heads completely shot to hell and its tentacles holding drug paraphilia.
On the front was:
NYPD= 7
A$$holes= 0
Track em, Whack em, Sack em. 12's Narcs Grim Reapers.
Pouring each of them a mug. ''This is unique.'' Fingering it.
Andy chuckled. ''Hey don't dis my unit T-shirt, I earned that. I had to be a streetwalker for 6 weeks.'' Miranda nearly choked on her sip of coffee.
'' Freezing my toned tuchus off in 40 below with a pimp named Pretty Julio.''
''You didn't have to? Do it?'' Miranda eyes asked. ''Tell me Sachs you didn't have to service someone.'' Miranda blanched at no answer.
Andy turned away, let Miranda wonder, did she, didn't she? Grabbing a dishtowel to get the baking sheet from the oven.
''Did you Sachs?'' Miranda looked scandalised.
Andy turned back looking inscrutable at her fellow diner. ''Really Miranda that would be telling. What happens undercover stays undercover.''
Winking. '' 'Bambi Sugarhorse Goldie' does not kiss and tell. Let me think did I, didn't I.''
''Think hard.'' Miranda tersed.
Andy began counting on her hand. '' I had to maintain my cover. Nope no Snooty Ice Queen limos' came by for Bambi here only a driver of a Dart, I'm recalling it's a bit hazy, a 1965 AMC Marlin and 1960 Gremlin I think I gave them one for the road free. Ah well two for one. Then their was that trucker...''
She hid her smile behind her coffee mug letting Miranda wonder. It was so much fun lying to her. Riling the Ice Queen. Made the strands of blue in her eyes more vividly dark and sparkly.
'' Least Bambi could do, they had to drive those hit by ugly stick vehicles and it was Christmas. The season of giving.''
''Depraved Sachs.'' She scrutinised Andrea, the crinkles at the corner of her eyes, the tell-tale laughter in her dancing eyes. She was a worse liar than Cass and Car. She was teasing her. Riling her up.
''The NYDMV really needs to start restricting car eyesores as a public service.''
Miranda shook her head, ebbing her concern why did she bother when Sachs behaved like an immature cretin.
''Hey.'' Miranda stuffed a muffin into Andy's big mouth. 'You are lucky that's a muffin what you need is a bar of soap.'
Andy recalled her unit putting her mug shot as a PC screen saver along with pictures from surveillance images of her walking the sidewalk in leopard and fishnet and big hair that could rival any Jersey Working Girl.
Andy's partner Domingo remarked in good juvenile humour 'night job Sachs'. Given her t-shirt told she was a growing Narc.
Miranda reached forward, brushing her fingers across Andy's cheekbone. Wiping away a grey smudge felt like clay, making Andy tingle from her touch. Both felt a jolt of frisson of static electricity.
Andy quipped. ''Gosh how sparks fly when you're near Priestly.''
''Honestly Sachs.''
Smearing butter and wolfing down her second java chip muffin. Breakfast with Miranda was nice. Refilling Miranda's cup thoughtfully, reaching over with her flexing arm.
''What's this?''
''Huh?'' Andy queried.
Miranda tentatively grazed Andy's arm, traced jagged writing. Andy tugged at her sleeve tensely, covering it with her hand. Changing the subject. Some secrets should be secrets.
Tucking her knees up to her chin. ''I've decided…I…I'll stay on the case.'' Andy growled out.
Miranda's blue eyes sparkled at her, gave Andy a smile that made her cheeks ache. ''Good.''
''We…nothing can happen between us .''
Miranda promised hesitantly. ''Fine Sachs, if that's what you want, I do understand now you want nothing to do with me.''
Andy Sachs wanted everything to with Miranda Priestly that was the problem.