A/N: I have been absent for a long time. I do apologize. Real life got in the way big time. Suffice to say, I spent time in the grippy sock place and it's taken me until now to be able to find time to write again.

Andy exited the Elias Clark building, shivering in the autumn cool. She scanned the empty street, huffing as she saw no cabs in sight. A voice cut through her ruminations.

"Andy!" She turned to her right, grinning at the voice.

"Roy! Did she send you to ferry me around?" Andy made her way to the Mercedes, placing the dry cleaning and wardrobe bags in the trunk and making her way into the back.

"You bet. She said to drop you off at the townhouse and she'd call me when you needed a ride home."

Andy couldn't help rolling her eyes. Miranda would never cease to surprise her with her whims. "Well thanks Roy. I don't think I need a ride home, but I won't anger her the first day I'm back. I hope we're done quickly so you can get back home to your family."

Roy chuckled and the drive to Miranda's was filled with an odd silence. She thought she saw Roy looking at her curiously the whole way there. As they pulled up to the house, she put that out of her mind, grabbing the dry cleaning and entering.

She grinned as she realized nothing much had changed here. This time though, Andrea did not bother to try and be silent and heard her heels clack across the foyer. As she put the dry cleaning in the closet, she heard twin giggles from the second floor. Of course the girls were here. They probably had a prank planned for the new second assistant.

"Hello girls." She still had the Book in her hand, but she was on the lookout for anything that might be a trap. Though she and the twins had ended up being something like friends by the end of her tenure, she was sure they weren't aware it was her. She walked towards the staircase until she could see the twins from the second-floor landing. They looked surprised.

"Andy!" And with all the subtlety of two elephants running Cassidy and Caroline were in front of her.

"Caroline, Cassidy," Andy nodded at the correct one for her greetings, "Shouldn't you be upstairs trying to prank the poor second assistant into going up the stairs?"

They looked at each other and laughed, coming forward to hug her. Andy looked up, surprised to see Miranda silently in the door to her study. She hadn't even heard her but given the loud steps of the girls it was possible that she was simply quieter. Her face was inscrutable, an expression Andy had never seen.

"Girls, I do believe you were supposed to be getting ready for bed, not attacking Andrea."

The twins let her go, grinning. "Well Mom, we haven't seen Andy in a long time. We thought she didn't work for you anymore."

Andy smiled at Miranda. "I didn't work for your mom. She offered me a job this morning, and you know how hard it is to say no her so I came back. Just no more pranks on me, please."

Cassidy smiled, a little too guiltily. "Of course, we would never do that to you Andy."

Miranda cleared her throat, an eyebrow raised at her children, clearly not believing them. "You had better not Bobbsies. Andrea and mommy have a lot of work to do before Fashion Week."

Abashed, the twins nodded, hugging Miranda and receiving kisses on their head before they trampled up the stairs.

"The study Andrea. I have some things I need to discuss with you." Miranda turned, walking into the study with Andy trailing silently behind her.

Andy set the book on Miranda's desk, sitting on the chair in front of it. Miranda shook her head.

"I've spent enough time at my desk today." Andy nodded, looking at Miranda and realizing she looked exhausted. She moved to the couch, sinking into it.

"Of course. What do you need Miranda?"

The silver haired woman walked over to a cabinet in the corner. "Red or white, Andrea?"

"Uhh, red?" The mere fact that Miranda was pouring her a glass of wine made Andy wonder what kind of business they had to discuss. She'd never shared a glass of wine with her employer in the eight months she'd been there before.

She was pulled from her thoughts by Miranda handing her a glass of wine, sitting close enough to Andy that their thighs were nearly touching. The thought made her wonder what Miranda's skin would feel like. Would it be soft as silk?

"I'm glad you decided to return Andrea, things have not been running as smoothly since you… left me."

Andy nodded. "I'm sorry Miranda, I just-"

Miranda shook her head, "I didn't ask for an explanation Andrea. You did what you had to do. Though I can imagine after what I did to Nigel, being compared to me was not what you wanted to hear. Dragon lady, third divorce, taking her friends dreams away."

Andy shook her head. "No, no, it wasn't that. I don't think I was ready to hear that. You're not a dragon lady either, Miranda. But now, I can appreciate the compliment for what it was," she took a sip of her wine, surprised it wasn't as dry as she was used to, "So, what do you need before Paris? I assume you wanted me here to discuss all that stu- those things."

Miranda glared at her, but there was no heat behind it. "Really, Andrea, you're a journalist and you can't come up with words better than stuff or things?"

Andy saw Miranda's lips twitch, signaling she was amused, not annoyed by Andy's words.

"Yes well, it has been a long day, Miranda. Forgive me for losing my eloquence by 10 pm."

"Indeed. What I had wanted to discuss was your employment. What would you think about being employed as an independent contractor? Working for me, not Runway."

Andy pondered this for a moment, wondering what Miranda's angle was. "Why not just come back to Runway?"

"Because, if Irv decides to try another scheme at Fashion Week, I know you'd be with me."

Andy heard the unspoken message: Irv may try to dethrone Miranda yet again. "Miranda, you don't have to employ me yourself to ensure my loyalty. I came back because you asked. Believe it or not, I do miss you sometimes."

Miranda hummed, her lips twitching up, as if she was trying to stop herself from smiling. "Hmm. So you don't feel forced back then?"

Andrea shook her head. "It's easier to explain that way, wouldn't you say?"

Miranda looked at her contemplatively. "I would still like to offer that position independently. It may look better for your articles if you aren't a Runway employee when you go to publish them."

Andy took a long drink from her wine glass. "Of course, Miranda. You'd know better than me. Who am I to turn down the legend?" Andy winked, watching as Miranda smiled fully.

"Wouldn't it be just as bad to be your assistant though?"

"No." With that word, she rose, getting a stack of papers from her desk. "Read through this. Never sign anything that you don't read Andrea."

Andy nodded, slipping the papers into her briefcase. "I'll make sure to have it to you first thing. Did you need anything else Miranda, before I head home?"

Miranda sighed, rolling her neck. "See if you can't get me into my massage therapists tomorrow. My neck is, well just do it."

Andy nodded, surprised when Miranda nearly explained herself. For the second time that night. "Of course," She hesitated before she spoke again. "If you're really in pain, I could give your neck a massage." Andy blushed as she spoke, unsure of where that had come from. How inappropriate was that? Offering to massage her boss.

Miranda looked at her strangely, "You're one of a kind Andrea. It's almost as if you actually care for me." The words 'actually care' came out almost sarcastically.

Andy rolled her eyes. The woman was infuriating sometimes. She simply could not believe that anyone would simply care for her.

"Of course I do Miranda. Would I have raced across Paris in heels to warn you about Irv and Jacqueline if I didn't?"

Miranda looked surprised for all of a second before returning to her usual inscrutable face. Miranda stuttered, her next words coming out softly. "Thank you Andrea. I, if you were truly offering, I would not be opposed to having you massage my neck."

Andy grinned, she couldn't just say yes, could she? And the woman had thanked her now twice. Twice in one day. She was amused by the change in the woman. Though if she kept thanking her Andy might suspect something was seriously wrong.

"Of course. It's my job to take care of what you need, Miranda. Either turn to the side or sit in your desk chair and I'll see if I can't help."

Miranda surprisingly turned so she was sitting sideways on the couch. Andy turned as well, one knee bent and touching Miranda's back, the other on the floor. She fidgeted with her fingers for a moment before putting a hand on either side of Miranda's neck.

"Is it okay if I touch your neck under your blouse?"

Miranda hmm'd, leaning into Andy's touch. "Is that a yes?"

Miranda's annoyed voice replied, "I do hate repeating myself, Andrea."

"Right." Andy's hands slipped underneath Miranda's collar. She was surprised at how tense the muscles were, but also at how soft and warm Miranda's skin felt. After a few moments of gently caressing Miranda's neck, she pushed her thumb against the knot she felt.

Miranda inhaled sharply and as Andy's hands relaxed her, she let out little moans Andy felt the tightness in her neck receded. Andy felt her face flush as her heard Miranda's small moan. What would that sound like in other contexts? She wondered, almost imagining what it would be like to be touching Miranda so much more intimately. Her mind reeled as she felt herself flushing and breathing a little harder. She continued to massage the editor, absently wondering about why she was so interested in imagining Miranda moaning under her touch, naked, flushed and sweaty.

Oh god. She was attracted to Miranda. She realized her hands had stilled on Miranda's neck and looked over to see the woman, blue eyes darker than normal, looking at her questioningly.

"Sorry. Just got distracted. Thinking about all the preparations I need to get done in the next two weeks."

"Well, you can do anything Andrea." Miranda's hand reached up to squeeze Andy's. Unlike the first time she'd spoke those words, her tone was almost affectionate.

"Right," Andy's voice was thick with disbelief, "I've got to get back home Miranda."

The silver haired editor nodded, but made no move to get up. "Call Roy. He can take you home."

Andy sighed, rolling her eyes. "I don't want Roy to have to drive halfway across the city this late Miranda."

Miranda raised an eyebrow, watching Andy as she rose. "Humor me Andrea. I'd hate to lose my assistant to a mugging before Paris."

Andy nodded. She wouldn't win this battle, not after Emily got hit by a cab in the lead up to Paris last year. "Yes Miranda."

She grabbed her phone, pulling her jacket on and making her way to the foyer. She was surprised as she heard the gentle click of Miranda's heels following her. She turned to face the editor, who had an expression on her face Andy had never seen.

They stood in silence for a few minutes, waiting for the car to pull up to the house.

"Goodnight Andrea." Miranda spoke, watching the younger woman as she opened the door.

"Goodnight Miranda." Andy grinned, closing her door behind her.

Andrea was certainly a mystery Miranda mused. The girl was all too willing to return to Runway and to working for the 'Devil in Prada'.

Miranda found herself sinking back into the couch she'd just been sharing with her assistant. Assuming Andrea would sign the contract, that is. Had she taken it with her?

Miranda didn't want to get up from the couch. It was warm where Andrea had sat. She shook her head, not wanting to be so introspective this late. But really, why did she care that the brunette was back? Deep down she knew why she cared, why she'd given Andrea a favorable recommendation after the fiasco of a week last year, but she was Miranda Priestly and she was able to bury whatever did not suit her to feel for a reason. She could not afford distractions right now, sure as she was, that Irving was going to try some scheme yet again during Fashion Week.

As she gathered their wine glasses, the quiet in the house was broken by the ringing of her phone. She sighed; her work was never done.

"Yes." Her voice was terse, unhappy.

"Miranda! I hope I haven't interrupted your evening, but I have an issue I needed to discuss with you."

She rolled her eyes. Jim, her features editor was always calling at the worst times. Who named their child Jim anyways, not James? "Yes, Jim, what crisis do I need to deal with?"

"Well," she could hear how nervous the man sounded. "Irv decided that we needed to make an inroads with the younger generation, and he demanded that Runway come up with a blog."

Miranda's irritation rose. Of course Irving would try to throw her off her game with two weeks to go before Fashion Week. He no doubt had heard that she'd fired both of her assistants this afternoon. She hoped he wouldn't realize Andrea was back just yet.

"And this means you need to interrupt my evening why? Surely my features editor can find a writer on staff who can write a few pieces for this new blog himself?"

She heard a nervous chuckle. It meant more bad news. Her staff had always been unable to give her bad news without worrying. "Well I would Miranda, but Irv wants an on-the-ground, day to day report from Fashion Week, and, uh, he wouldn't approve a new budget to send one of my team with you to Paris."

Miranda rolled her eyes. The man would do something like this. She couldn't make the impossible happen. She'd have to rework numerous things. "I'll deal with this. That's all."

She nearly threw her phone across her office, wondering when she'd gotten so juvenile over one of Irv's schemes to dethrone her.

As she stood, washing her dishes, the answer came to her. Andrea. The young woman was truly a talented writer. Unlike what Andrea thought of her, she had read the woman's work from college and had been impressed. It would give Andrea some experience, working for the most demanding editor in the business, and more bylines to tout when she searched for her next position as a journalist. The only piece remaining was how to approach the young woman. With that thought in mind, she wandered up the stairs to her bedroom, only pausing momentarily to check on her daughters.