After the kisses, it was as if they could slow down their racing minds, and, Andy confessed, building arousal. She sat there on the couch in Miranda's study, a room whose significance to Miranda did not elude her, as if in a little cocoon. The outside world belonged to other people, but their microcosm on this couch belonged to them.

Leaning together, arms loosely holding onto each other, their breaths aligned and found the same rhythm. Miranda kept combing through Andy's hair with gentle hands, which was hypnotic. Andy couldn't stop tracing the topography of Miranda's face, mostly with her eyes, but now and then she had to run the back of her finger gently along Miranda's jawline, across her forehead, or down her neck.

"Mm." Miranda hummed and sighed, but it fit into the rhythm of their breathing and didn't stir either of them.

Andy smiled and inhaled Miranda's scent, that Givenchy one-of-a-kind perfume that had wrapped around her back then, and still did. She found it difficult, no, impossible, to describe. It was warm and had hints of bergamot, patchouli, vanilla, and musk. She could easily be completely wrong, as it was so complex, but she inhaled it with each breath and thought it had imprinted on her brain early on.

"You're smiling," Miranda said so quietly it was almost a whisper.

"Yes."

"Why?"

Andy was resting her head against Miranda's shoulder and now she rubbed her cheek against the soft fabric of Miranda's wrap-around top. "You smell so good. It's addictive."

"It's Givenchy." Miranda chuckled under her breath.

"It's you and Givenchy. Unique." Andy sighed, but it was a liberating gush of air, nothing else.

"And you smell of some pedestrian soap, and if I'm not mistaken, some fruity shampoo." Miranda inhaled through her nose. "So very you, and so intoxicating when combined with your very own scent, it's ridiculous."

Andy grinned. "Thank you. I think."

"It's getting very late. We both have work tomorrow." Miranda checked her fancy watch which meant she had to pop it open to tell the time. "Almost midnight."

"I need to call an Uber—"

"—or you could stay," Miranda spoke casually, but tension had entered her voice. "I have a guestroom, you know."

Andy thought about it. It was tempting. Then she pictured them waking up early tomorrow, being awkward in the kitchen after a reset of their minds during sleep. They would lose the comfort and reassurance of this cocoon, and it might set them back. She was sure of it. Would Miranda understand—or would she see this as Andy running? Another rejection?

"I think, to not destroy this..." Andy motioned between them with her hand. "…I should go home. And don't think it's because I don't want to stay—deep inside I do—I think it's dangerous."

"Dangerous," Miranda said slowly, and it was obvious that the dragon was starting to move its tail, whipping it threateningly at the very tip where sharp thorns could slash into flesh.

"Tonight means too much for me to be careless with it. I don't want to push the envelope and be too greedy. If we are going to be able to truly reach each other, and not just go through the motions for the girls' sake, then we need to go slow. It's how I feel, at least." Andy cupped Miranda's cheek. "And all you have to do is ask me to return at some point, and I will. That's a promise."

The dragon tail seemed to grow still, and Miranda's eyes went from narrow and dark, to relaxed and a brilliant blue. "Are you saying that you placed yourself at my beck and call?" she purred in a low voice that showed the dragon moved just below the surface.

"Haha, that's how it sounded, didn't it." Suddenly flustered, Andy sucked her lower lip in between her teeth. When Miranda regarded her with such focus, it was hard to remain clear of mind. Her entire being was ready to tear her clothes off, and then Miranda's, but she remained immobile. Nobody would ever know how hard this was, and the toll it took.

"I have an insane day tomorrow, but what about Tuesday?" Miranda spoke casually as if they were discussing a work lunch. "I could stop by your place if you are amenable."

"M-my place." Thinking desperately about which state her studio apartment was in and remembered with relief that she had used all her nervous energy before the ball yesterday to give it a deep clean. "Sure. You're always welcome, and if there's a note on the elevator—hell, don't even think about the elevator, it's not dependable. I'm on the second floor. Take the stairs."

"What time?" Miranda slowly sat up and stretched. This made her look so sexy, Andrea nearly told her on the spot that she had changed her mind and would stay. Snapping her mouth closed, to not let the words that might destroy everything, escape, Andy calculated her work hours.

"Is around seven all right? Traffic is usually impossible then, so I'll need that extra time to get home first." Andy didn't even try to mask her ogling. Obviously, Miranda noticed, and a broad smile, so unusual in its brilliance, reminded Andy again about the laughter they'd shared in Paris.

"All right. We have a…a date?" Sudden looking shellshocked at her own words, Miranda grew rigid. Andy hated for any of them to take a step back and then reached for Miranda. She held her by the shoulders, stroking them in a gentle circular motion.

"Yes. I think that's a good definition. It's a date to see if we still…gel." She cringed at the last word as it sounded juvenile somehow.

"Gel." Pursing her lips, Miranda then stretched them into another smile. "So poetic."

Andy groaned and tugged Miranda in for a hug, mostly to be able to hide her face against her neck. "Forget I said that."

"I refuse. You agreed it was a date," Miranda murmured against Andy's hair. "I won't have you going back on that, no matter your odd choice of word. So, whether we, uhm, gel or not, I will look forward to Tuesday." Miranda nuzzled Andrea's hair. "Please, don't change your mind."

Andy pulled back enough to meet Miranda's gaze. "Not on your life. This is my week to work on The Mirror's digital presence, and I don't expect to be called away on a story. If that happens anyway, I will call you—or text you—and reschedule. I don't think that'll happen." She thought of something. "Your schedule is as brutal as mine sometimes. It might be you who has to cancel or reschedule, after all."

"Yes, I know, but I'll make sure that doesn't happen if it's humanly possible."

Andy ran her fingers along Miranda's cheek, down her neck and carefully dipped in under the neckline of her top. "You make it very hard to walk away, Miranda Priestly," she murmured. "If I had never had you, I might have been able to rationalize it, but that's not the case—I see you the way you looked in Paris, all sprawled across the couch."

"Before we took it into the bedroom," Miranda said hoarsely. "You had to go there, didn't you? Remind me of it so vividly?"

"Yes, apparently so. Not sorry about it…it's what I've lived on for four years, even if it was in the night when I finally fell asleep." Andrea leaned in, very slowly to give Miranda ample time to move away and pressed her lips to Miranda's. Her whimper morphed into a moan. "I better get my phone out and order the Uber." She longed to deepen the kiss, but if they crossed that line, she wouldn't be able to pull back.

"If you must." Miranda leaned back against the couch and watched as Andy fumbled in her briefcase for her phone. She brought up the Uber app and tapped in Miranda's address. "Fifteen minutes. That was fast."

"Yes." Miranda studied Andy for a moment. "Please call me when you get home, so I know you're safe." It was clearly not a question.

"Sure." Andy suddenly tugged Miranda back into her arms. "You know how difficult it is for me to do the right thing, don't you? I don't want this to be like in Paris. We jumped straight into the fire, headfirst, and we crashed and burned. I don't think I could bear it if that happened again. We have managed to reach beyond that tonight. I'm just trying to keep these new feelings safe." Praying that Miranda understood, Andy pressed her lips to Miranda's neck.

"I believe you." Miranda tipped her head to the side, to allow for more access. "As much as my entire being wants to attempt the crash-and-burn scenario, I do believe you."

They sat in silence for another ten minutes, and their breaths aligned again. When Andy had to get up and pack her laptop, Miranda stood with her and joined her as they walked down to the foyer. When Andy had put on her coat and scarf, she turned into Miranda's arms.

"I hate this," Miranda said in a barely audible voice.

"Same." Andy pressed her lips to Miranda's temple and then walked out the door. The Uber was waiting by the curb and she entered it after making sure the driver was there for her. As the woman drove away, she looked back, but Miranda had closed her door.

#

Miranda saw she had three missed texts from her girls from Cassidy's phone. She texted them back, knowing they were going to see it in the morning at least. They had asked about Andrea and all Miranda had written back was that they'd had a nice evening.

Going through her evening routine in the bathroom with one eye on her phone to make sure she didn't miss a text or call from Andrea, Miranda eventually put on her sleepwear, this time a tank top and shorts. The thought of a cotton full-length nightgown felt far too suffocating as she was still hot.

Phone in hand, she walked a last round in her house, making sure everything was locked the alarm set—because who could have blamed her for missing her routine after a night like tonight? As she reentered her bedroom, her phone pinged twice. A text. She tapped the screen and then Andrea's name.

Andrea Sachs: Home, safe and sound. Just standing here, trying to tell myself tonight was not a dream.

Miranda read the message twice before replying.

MP: Glad you are home. The way my skin tingles in the wake of your hands reassures me it was certainly not a dream.

Pulling back the covers, Miranda slipped into her bed and switched off all lamps but one, using her remote. She debated whether she should bother reading this evening, but she was too distracted—and too tired. A ping made her jump. A quick check, which also reminded her she needed to charge her phone, showed that it was Andrea again. Tapping the name, she saw the text on the app morph into Andrea's face. No doubt Cassidy had put this feature on her text app. She certainly hadn't added any extra features to it. She seemed to remember Cassidy complaining of the lack of 'bling' on Miranda's phone. "Call yourself a fashion editor, Mom, when you haven't even so much as a tiny sparkle either on your case or on any of your apps."

Now Miranda read the text and her eyes grew wider.

Andrea Sachs: That's highly unfair! How am I supposed to settle down and get a good night's sleep now?"

Miranda frowned. What did Andrea mean? She thought for a moment and then typed again.

MP: I'm sure I don't know what you mean. Admittedly, I think this evening has made for yet another reason it can be hard to settle down. Will you allow me to call you—even if it is late?

Miranda expected Andrea to be just as steadfast as she was about returning to her apartment, but instead, it only took a few moments until her phone pinged again.

Andrea Sachs: Give me a sec.

Miranda stared at the brief text. What was she supposed to wait for? She curled up and placed the phone next to her on the pillow. She thought back to last night when they had talked while Miranda got ready for bed. It felt as if it was much longer ago.

The vibration from her phone made her jump and nearly bite her tongue. Grabbing it, she felt it continue to hum in her hand as she viewed the screen. Of course, it was Andrea. Who else? Tapping the green symbol, Miranda set it to speaker mode and placed it back on the pillow with trembling fingers.

"What's that noise?" she asked, frowning at the sound, but then it stopped.

"My shower. Just turned off the water" Andrea replied calmly. "Feels like a familiar conversation. Your face fan, my shower. Same difference."

"I see." Oh, dear God. "You thought it was a good idea to call me when you were in the shower." She never would have pegged Andrea as a cruel individual. Miranda pressed one of her many pillows against her chest.

"Stepping out of the shower." Andrea obviously shivered. "I'm going to have to have a stern conversation with the super again. Water was hot enough, but the heat in the bathroom leaves something to be desired." She rustled around and then treated Miranda to the sound of what had to be her electric toothbrush. Lovely. "There. Done."

Miranda heard faint footfalls as Andrea moved through her apartment. There were more rustling noises and then a deep sigh.

"Andrea? Are you all right?" Miranda lowered her voice.

"Yes. Finally in bed. And you're here. Sort of." Andrea sounded much closer. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

Miranda closed her eyes briefly. "Not any subject, per se. I…I just can't seem to calm down. I wasn't joking before. It's as if my skin remembers wherever you touched me tonight." She hoped she didn't sound completely pitiful.

"Hey. Listen. You and I made such progress tonight if we allow ourselves to recognize it. We went from brace-for-impact hostility, distrust, and utter pain, to not wanting to be apart. That's huge, Miranda. And as much as I'm cursing myself for my decision to go home to sleep, it was the right call."

"So you say," Miranda muttered, even if she agreed in principle. "I think there is a small part of my brain that agrees with you. The rest of me is cursing you as well. I suppose I should take solace in the fact that we agree."

Andrea chuckled. "I wish my body wouldn't curse so much though. All it does is remind me of how you caressed me. Perhaps kissing you was a mistake…but I'm only human." Andrea hummed. "If I didn't already know what kissing you can lead to, perhaps it might have been easier, but since I do, I'm suffering." She did sound out of breath.

"Are you warm again now that you're under the covers?" Miranda hugged the pillow in her arms.

"Yes. Talking to you on the phone induces its very special heat." Andrea sighed again and then hummed.

"What are you doing?" Miranda asked suspiciously. Her lower abdomen was throbbing, but she tried to ignore it.

"Mm. Me? Just trying to find some peace over here so I can sleep." Sounds suggested that Andrea shifted as the beddings was making noises against the phone mic. "Oh."

"Oh, what?" Miranda pushed her right hand down between her thighs. "Are you…are you touching yourself, Andrea?" She closed her eyes hard and knew she was close to start panting. Pushing her wrist against her folds through her sleep shorts, Miranda pressed her lips together, but some sounds must have escaped.

"I hear you, Miranda. I hear…you." Andrea moaned the last word. "It's as if you're here. I hear you, and I swear I feel you."

"Andrea…" Miranda rocked against her wrist. "I wish you were here. I wish it was your hand…"

"Same. Oh, God…the way you used to touch me. How you kept me balancing on the edge for so long, I was begging…"

Miranda whimpered. "I remember. And you never relented with me. You showed me just how it could be to be well…" She nearly said 'loved.' "…taken care of." Miranda listened to Andrea's little gasps. "Have you gone inside?" she whispered.

"N-no. Saving that…for you…" Andrea moaned. "Outside of the bedsheet. I want you to touch my skin. Just…you…"

"That's what I want," Miranda said. "I want to be inside you, feeling every sweet part of you. That's supposed to be me, damn it!" Her own words pushed her toward the edge. "Please, Andrea. So close."

"I'm here. Give it to me. Close your eyes and you will feel my hands on you. My mouth devouring you."

Miranda came and she squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to see her lonely room in her lonely house. She wanted to hear Andrea so close to her on the pillow and pretend the hand between her legs was hers. She rolled her hips and whispered Andrea's name again.

"That's it. Yes. Just like…that…" The heat in Andrea's voice made Miranda cradle the phone to her.

"Come for me, Andrea. I know exactly how you look when you do, and how you cling to me. Let go." She listened intently as Andrea's orgasm hit on the other end, and she hugged the pillow to her again.

"Oh, fuck…" Andrea gasped for air. "How did you—you did—something…"

Miranda smiled. "We both did, it seems." She was out of breath too.

"Do you think we can let the phones remain open for a bit? I think I can sleep, but I would like to hear your breath…if that's okay?" Andrea sounded shy, which was unexpected.

"Yes. Why not?" Miranda held the phone to her as if that would make it feel more real to hear Andrea sleep. "I think I can sleep too."

"Mm. Good. Sweet dreams."

Miranda sighed. "There's always hope. Good night, Andrea." Then she realized it was true. There was more hope now on the horizon than there had been in four years. She closed her eyes and listened to the even breaths that proved that Andrea had managed to fall asleep first.

With her right hand curved protectively around the phone, Miranda feared it would take her much longer, when in fact sleep claimed her in less than a minute.

Continued in part 8.