In a perfect world, Miranda would be Andy's.
However, this was not a perfect world. And Miranda would never be Andy's. No matter how much she wished for it. And did she even want that now, after everything? This was the very reason Andy was now standing here, in the middle of Charles De Gaulle scrambling to find a flight to take her back home. Without the Runway crew.
Without Miranda.
Because she had walked away less than four hours ago. If she was honest with herself, she had definitely ran. Unable to stop herself, she'd gotten in too deep. Had fallen for the impossible dream. Andy knew it, and she cursed herself repeatedly for it. Watching MIranda rip Nigel's dream from under him without even so much as a warning had shocked her to her core.
She had known, of course, that Miranda's sobriquets were not even close to false. Where this is smoke there is always fire. And the names they used for Miranda did ring far closer to true than not. Usually. But Andy had thought things were changing, at least between the two of them, since the Harry Potter incident. The woman Miranda had shown Andy glimpses of in those quiet moments they had spent working side by side was the woman she had been unable to help falling for. The woman who softened when she was talking to her Bobbsey's. Who had seemed to be showing that similar softening to Andy herself through milder dulcet tones and even softer minor, seemingly innocuous touches. A straightening of a collar here, a speck of dirt swept off the shoulder there, even though Andy had tried to tell herself constantly that she was imagining things. Because Miranda didn't do touches and nobody touched Miranda. But those small glimpses were enough to hope. By god how she had hoped.
Only to find her whole world understanding collapsing inside her as she watched Miranda hand over Holt into that Skunk's clutches and while Nigel had tried to show the knife in the back had not hurt, Andy knew him now and could see it all in his eyes. Andy had to ask herself if Miranda was willing to do this to Nigel... TO NIGEL! Who had been Miranda's friend even longer than Miranda had run Runway. What would she willingly do to Andy if Andy stood in the way of her achieving her goal?.
So Andy had run, tossed her Sidekick into that fountain and felt so irrepressibly free for a whole thirty seconds before it all came crashing down on her exactly what she had just done and could only hope to hell that Miranda did not choose to respond to that by raining hell down on her and black listing her everywhere in publishing on the East Coast. Because Andy could not face Miranda, knowing how she herself felt about the woman. Could not continue working with her day in and day out and hope to escape with her treacherous heart unscathed. Because it certainly wasn't intact now. How could Andy feel the way she did about Miranda and knowing how easily Miranda could tear everyone around her apart.
So here she was, trying to get a ticket back to the States, willing to max out her personal cards if need be, and why the bloody hell do not one of these airlines have anything departing in the next couple hours that wasn't fully booked. She had tried four separate ones so far and nothing. She needed the hell out of this city. City of Love?! Ha! City of Hell more like, Andy thought to herself bitterly as she slumped away from the fifth counter dejectedly after purchasing a ticket for the midday flight the following day.
She wanted out, desperately. And yet no matter how she tried it seemed she was stuck. At the very least, overnight. So, okay, now she needed to find accommodation because while she had not checked out of the Plaza Athenee as soon as her hastily packed bags were done, leaving all the couture behind, she was definitely not returning there with her tail between her legs. It increased the chances MIranda would find her and that was right at the top of the list of things Andy definitely did not want to happen.
The brunette stood there chewing her lip staring up at the arrivals and departures board, wondering if there was a hotel nearby that was easily found as with no phone searching for one was a lot more difficult. As she watched the board flicker and change she heard some gasps behind her and she felt the whole atmosphere change in a sweeping silence. Andy closed her eyes, knowing full well what that change was even without turning around. And that was definitely one thing she was not doing. Because if she didn't look, didn't turn around, then she had a chance of not being recognized.
She stood there, keeping her eyes closed, trembling. Miranda had somehow found her location and she desperately did not want to be seen. Long moments passed and then she heard a soft clearing of a throat and she screwed her eyes even tighter.
"Andrèa…" The soft tone set Andy's heart pounding hard in her chest and she thought it might explode just from that use of her name. "Won't you look at me, please?"
It was the please that did it. Miranda never said please. Andy's eyes popped open comically staring at Miranda before catching herself and settling her gaze on the floor.
Two fingers slid under her chin and lifted her face until Andy could do nothing but look into crystal blue eyes, and she could see the remorse and regret in them.
"Come with me, we have much to discuss and I… I-I wish to explain and I would rather not do it here."
Andy blinked in confusion at the idea of Miranda explaining… well, anything. She nodded inarticulately because no matter how much her flight instinct was bellowing in her head to flee and to flee now, she was incapable of saying no or not letting MIranda do whatever the hell she wanted when she spoke in those tones to Andy. Damn her traitorous heart. Miranda grasps her by the elbow, while telling her nearby driver to get Andy's luggage and leads her out of the airport to her waiting car.
Andy was so discombobulated, a state that just seemed to increase as Miranda held the door open for her and indicated she should get in and slide over before following Andy into the car. She heard the driver putting her luggage into the trunk, before he too, rounded the vehicle and climbed in, setting off smoothly.
It seemed like an eternal forty minutes from the airport back to the Plaza Athenee, spent in silence as both the Editor and Andy were lost in their own thoughts. They pulled up and got out and Andy heard Miranda giving quiet instructions to her driver before she once again grasped Andy's elbow to lead her towards the bank of elevators. Andy could do nothing but let her because she had no idea what was happening, still. She somehow managed to grasp the concept that Miranda had chased after her, found her at the airport but she had no idea why or how. Nothing that had happened since she'd tossed her damn phone in the fountain was making any sense, least of all the idea that Miranda had chosen to chase her down.
Miranda let go of her elbow in the elevator and when it stopped on her floor, she exited obviously believing Andy would follow her. Which of course she did. Andy was definitely in too deep, and she knew it. She had thought to escape but the second she had looked into Miranda's eyes at the airport she had realized there was nowhere she would not follow this woman if Miranda only desired it. There was no coming back from this. She loved MIranda with a fire that burned her insides to a crisp and left her reeling in the ashes. Andy knew Miranda could quite feasibly ruin her entire career and leave her with nothing and the chances of her doing that were extremely high. Had only brought her back here to eviscerate her in private. But something in the tone Miranda has used on her at the airport left Andy clutching at straws and hoping beyond hope. Because if there was even a small tiny flicker of a chance that her feelings were not unrequited, Andy was going to grab hold of it with both hands and not let go.
The silver haired woman unlocked her suite, indicating to Andy to precede her which she did. She stood off to the side as she would, had she not effectively quit the assistant position by tossing her phone in that fountain several hours ago, waiting for whatever Miranda decided to unleash upon her.
The editor wandered over to the bar, pouring herself a drink before she seated herself on a sofa and softly told Andy to sit, waving her hand at the chair opposite.
As Andy sat, she watched Miranda closely, looking for some sign of what was to come and was surprised to see Miranda attempt to start several times before she reached across to her side table for the pen and paper she had there. She placed them in front of Andy and sat back taking a sip of her drink.
"That is your two weeks notice, Andrèa… back-dated to two weeks ago. This is how one respectfully gives up their position when they do not wish to continue, rather than being petulant, running away and casting their phone in the first body of water they come across." Miranda was still speaking softly, as if calming a scared child.
Andy stared at her. How did she know about the phone?!
"Sign it, or don't…" Miranda shrugged. "But know, that your choice will effectively determine where we go from here. I just ask that you wait until I am done talking before you make your decision." Miranda at this point was attempting to look everywhere but at Andy.
Andy wondered at the emphasis on the word we, but nodded her head. "Okay."
"In the past few hours, I have explained and apologized to Nigel. He did not take it very well and I am not sure he believed me when I promised him a better opportunity at a later date, but he has agreed to move on and I can only prove my regret to him with time. I did what I needed to do to save my magazine Andrèa, and I do not regret that, even though I do regret hurting Nigel in the process. When I realized you were no longer at my side, and watched you toss your phone, I also realized that I had inadvertently hurt you too, though I am unsure as to the reasons why because your reaction was more than merely being upset over a friend's lost opportunity, or perhaps disliking being compared to me. It was meant to be a compliment. What else I am also unsure of is my own reaction to your desertion." Miranda paused, a muted sigh escaping her. "In any other case, I would be undeniably furious, Andrèa. You have no doubt heard the stories of previous assistants. And I do not understand why I am not. Or why the very thought of you leaving my side fills me with a terror I have never felt. The only thing I have to compare it to is when my girls were born prematurely and we did not know if they would make it." She looked at Andy, her eyes begging her to make sense of it for her, tears welling but not falling. "I find myself needing to know why? Why did you leave? And why am I feeling like this?"
Andy listened, and she watched Miranda. Because she had spent months learning the woman's smallest physical and verbal cues to the point of knowing this woman almost better than she knew herself. What MIranda needed without saying a word and Andy's ability to supply that. To the point they worked synchronously together with barely a hitch. The small moments they had together, after Miranda had stopped treating her like just another assistant. The looks she dared not hope were what her intuition of Miranda was telling her they were. The minor unimportant touches. The barely hidden relief the previous night when Miranda had informed her of the pending divorce from Stephen, even as she mourned the hurt this might possibly cause on her Bobbseys.
As the puzzle pieces slotted themselves into place in her head, Andy gasped. She grabbed the pen and signed the form before she stood quickly and moved around the table between them, dropping to her knees in front of Miranda.
"Andrèa?" She growled with a glare as the woman came around the knew she was affected by the woman right in front of her, even as she tried her damndest not to be. She had not expected Andrèa to sign the resignation letter, expected her to just return to work seeing as Miranda was being so magnanimous.
Andy placed her hands on Miranda's knees, looking up at the woman who had stolen her heart. Her doeful eyes twinkling just a little.
"You wish to know why I left Miranda?"
Miranda gave a short nod, not trusting her voice any longer. She could barely focus on anything other than the warmth spreading from her knees where Andrèa's hand made contact and that she was falling into this woman's eyes as she knelt before her, with barely a shred of self-preservation left.
Andy raised her hand to Miranda's face, cupping it softly and a small smile graced her face as she watched Miranda's eyes flutter closed as she leant into it. She surged upwards, holding all of her hopes clutched tightly in her heart that this was not the most monumentally stupidest thing she had ever done, pressing her lips against MIranda's. She heard a groan emanate, not caring whether it was from her or MIranda, because she was kissing MIranda and it felt… sublime. Then Miranda was kissing her back. Hungrily. Her hands wound into Andy's hair pulling her face almost forcefully into her lips. Andy couldn't help smiling then, even as the kissing continued and Miranda's hands shifted and stroked down her back, pulling her forwards and upwards, until Andy had no choice but to straddle her lap, before they both fell backwards onto the sofa.
So maybe the world was not perfect. But there was no world in which MIranda was kissing Andy that wasn't perfect for Andy.