When Andy was first told she was pregnant, she literally laughed in the doctor's face. There was no way she could be pregnant. She hadn't slept with any male since Christian a little over a year ago in Paris and human women simply did not gestate that long. She bluntly told the doctor that and said they had to be incorrect, so to just give her some meds for the God-awful flu that drove her nuts for four weeks. The doctor could see that the woman was having problems accepting it and just handed her some information, telling her to come back and see her when she had decided what she was going to do about it.

Andy had left the doctor's office in complete disbelief, unable to process what she was told. But as the months wore on and her body swelled, growing new life she had had no choice but to accept it. She was indeed pregnant, and she had only slept with one person in the time since Paris.

After a long and arduous fourteen hour delivery, Andy looked down at the bundle in her arms in amazement as sleepy crystal blue eyes blinked back at her from a head topped with the finest strawberry-blonde hair. The fact this child was here was something that completely blew Andy away because she knew now, without a doubt who this child's other parent was. She didn't know how it was even possible but the child she held was proving otherwise by the second.

As Sherlock Holmes once said when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. And the inescapable, improbable truth here was this child also belonged to Miranda and Andy had no idea what she was supposed to do with that information. Other than keeping it to herself and managing the best she could as a single parent. Because, without a doubt, she loved this child and if this was the only part of Miranda she would ever have then she would be happy.

Seven weeks before her doctor tried to inform her she was pregnant, Andy had attended a soirée, covering it for her job at The New York Mirror. She had not wanted to be there, knowing that it was highly likely she would run into Miranda which she definitely did not want to do. Had tried everything to get out of it with Greg, her editor. She knew she was impossibly lucky; she had escaped the Dragon Lady almost unscathed, was not black listed like she expected and Andy did not want to put Miranda's greatest disappointment back on the other woman's radar in any way, shape or form because she knew she would not be as lucky a second time around. She had no idea how or why she had evaded the wrath of the Devil In Prada but counted herself lucky in the extreme that she had.

Andy's luck avoiding all things Miranda did indeed run out that night, and in a twist she definitely did not expect had ended up in the woman's bed being fucked into blissful oblivion. Well, a high end hotel room in Andy's name for the night was not exactly 'Miranda's bed' but semantics. What had crushed her though was waking to find no sign of Miranda other than a rather threatening note left beside the bed, implying all hell would break loose if Miranda even caught a whisper of a rumor that this had happened.

What was left in Miranda's wake of destruction, was Andy's clarity of her own feelings and why she felt she had lost something extremely precious when she had run from Paris and, for the last year, had been unable to figure out why or what. In her obliviousness she avoided all other romantic encounters since, as she could not escape one particular feeling. She felt like she was missing a limb. Andy was irrevocably in love with the silver haired editor. She knew also there was no 'getting over' this. She felt it deep in her bones. Her love for MIranda was eternal.

Andy snuggled the precious child to her chest, allowing her little girl to feed while looking on in wonder. She and Miranda had managed to create this absolutely perfect little being. The brunette still did not have a name for her child and struggled to do so since she first accepted she was, indeed, pregnant. She had thought of and discarded so many possibilities and she still had not happened upon the one she felt was right. She wanted a way to connect her daughter to her other mother, even if the other woman would never know.

2 years later…

Andy pelts after her naked, giggling child who turned two just a few days before. Who is dashing as fast as her little legs could carry her through their two-bedroom apartment.

"Cirilla Miryam Priestly Sachs, get your cute little butt back here and get dressed!"

Ciri squeals in delight as her mother scoops her up and carries her back to her bedroom.

"You have to get dressed, sweetheart. Mama has to go to work, and you have to go to daycare. Don't you wanna play with your friends there?"

The precocious child smiles sweetly up at her mother. "Yes, Mama. Ciri wants fweinds. Wants to play with Bobo and Lu." Robert and Luna are Ciri's favorite friends to play with at the in-house daycare at The Mirror.

Andy had spent the last three years working her way up The Mirror's ladder, immensely grateful for how Greg had supported her choice to be a working mother. She is now a senior reporter, loves her job and loves her child with an intensity she never knew was possible. Greg's almost fatherly support had been everything when Andy was left floundering in the wake of Miranda's rejection and consequently finding out she was pregnant.

Her parents gave her an ultimatum after they discovered that Andy was not only pregnant, but also had no plans of involving the 'father' and refused to come home, determined to do it all herself. Adding to that Andy also prefers women to men, they had told her to come home and find a decent man to be a father to this child or they would cut her off. She refused outright and Greg had been a godsend who had not only allowed her to keep her job, working right up to the last minute when Ciri was born a month early, but ensured she qualified for maternity leave and the in-house childcare program upon her return to work, unwilling to let a talented writer go. He even allowed Andy to write from home after the twelve week paid leave had ended.

Andy smiles back at her daughter, still enamored with the tiny red headed, blue eyed cherub that had been gifted to her. She could see so much of Miranda in her little girl and the two other similar little red heads that also claimed her heart while working for the editor especially after her hair had darkened within a few weeks of being born. She felt her heart clench at what she does not have before shaking her head to clear out the thoughts, focusing on dressing Ciri who wriggles and squirms the whole time.

It was during this interaction that Ciri looks up at her mother, opening her mouth as if to say something and, instead of words, a stream of fire comes flowing out of her mouth, which stops as quickly as it starts when the child clamps her mouth closed. Leaving both of them staring at each other with widened eyes.

Across town, on the 17th floor of the Elias-Clarke building Miranda Priestly was knee deep in emails when her attention is pulled inside as something disconcertingly goes through her, registering on her internal 'otherworld' sensors. Her brow knits. Something has happened but she is not sure what.

She picks up her phone and dials Nigel's direct line to his office at the 'L'homme Urbain' on the 15th floor.

"Kipling speaking." He answers.

"Nigel," Miranda says softly. "Something just happened elsewhere. Find out, would you?" She hangs up, not allowing him to respond. He doesn't need to. She knows he will act upon her order. That's what he is there for as her second.

After hanging up, she tries to parse out the feeling she is experiencing. She runs the arm of her glasses across her lip as her thoughts try to coalesce. Her mind runs almost at the speed of light, much faster than a normal human's would.

The longer she thinks about this feeling the more it prods at her memories. She has felt this before. But when?

After going around it for a good ten minutes she shakes her head and tries to clear it. She has work to do. Nigel will find out. It's what he does. Determined to put it aside, she focuses back on her emails just as her personal phone goes off with a text alert. One just sent from Cassidy.

Cassidy Priestly - 9.05am: Mum, what just happened? Caro and I both felt that.

Miranda stops as the thought of her Bobbsey's brings to mind the exact moment she had, in fact, felt something just like that; the day her Bobbsey's power manifested a few days after their second birthday. It was not possible. She had no other children. She would absolutely know if she did. No matter, Nigel will find out. She puts it aside and focuses on replying to her oldest child, by three minutes.

Mom - 9:10am: I am unsure, darling. Uncle Nigel is working on it. We'll know more later. Try not to worry Bobbsey. Have fun at school. I love you.

Cassidy Priestly - 9.11am: K. Love you too.

Miranda put aside her phone and all thoughts of the unusual feelings with it, going back to her emails and sending her intrepid second assistant for some much needed coffee. How else is she supposed to get any work done?