A/N: Good evening. I spent my new year hovering over my wife who was having an anaphylactic attack for most of the night. So now I'm absolutely knackered and was writing this while I was watching her breathe so it's all a bit much, but I wanted to dip my toe back into the fandom and say g'day again. Happy New Year, y'all.
-0-
Andy picked up the phone and jammed it between her shoulder and neck while she kept typing.
"Go for Sachs."
"Doll, can't you answer the phone like a real person, instead of a caricature from your favourite D.C. universe?"
"No," Andy grinned as she paused. "No, I can't. What's up Nige! I miss you while you're out there doing your thang."
"Girl, I cannot even begin to tell you. Except I will. I need a plus one for the New Years thing and I've chosen you."
"Nigel," Andy paused. "This is your first as EIC. Why aren't you taking -"
"Because I want you."
"Nige -"
"Six, listen. The time to move on is now. You've sat at home, working on some sad little story this whole holiday season. Don't think I don't know what you're doing."
"And what am I doing, Nigel?"
"You're avoiding going home so you don't have to answer the difficult questions and you're avoiding us so you don't have to answer the different difficult questions."
"Oh yeah?" she muttered. "And what might they be?"
"So, Andy, what are you doing with yourself? How's journalism working out?"
"Fuck you."
"Alright, what about, 'have you met anyone? Or still holding a torch for -"
"Goodbye."
She hung up the phone before he could say his name and when he called back barely two minutes later, she stared at the phone and let it go to voicemail. When it rang the second time, she picked up, but didn't say anything.
"I'm sorry, Andy," he said quietly. "I -" He sighed. "I've had a few. I didn't mean to be so cruel."
"Nigel -"
"Please come to the party. I have to schmooze a bit at the beginning but then we can have fun, like we used to. Em should be there; Serena got home a few weeks ago, so she might be there as well?"
"How are they?"
"Loving life as parents. I still cannot imagine Emily as a parent but we are in a new age." Andy laughed. "I'll messenger over a dress. You still have your Christian Lou's?"
"Nigel," Andy scoffed. "Of course I do."
"Good. Still a four?"
"You know it."
"Alright, doll. I'll pick you up. Company car and all that. About 9."
"I'll be ready," she sighed. "Thank you."
"You're welcome, doll. See you in a few days."
As she dropped her phone onto her coffee table, she sighed. Work wasn't due for another week anyway, so she dropped her laptop onto the sofa as well. Nigel's words were ill-timed and cruel, even if they were true. She had already fought with her parents about missing another Christmas, and all the emotional and mental baggage that came with that. Her niece and nephew had cried, as if on cue, when her mother had announced that Aunt Andy wasn't coming home. Her sister had told her to quit being so selfish and her Father had huffed in the background and hung up the extension.
She'd tried to explain to her mother that living in New York City wasn't for the fainthearted but her mother had long-since lost any sympathy. As they were begrudgingly hanging up, her mother dropped the proverbial anvil and as Andy took the phone away from her ear all she heard was 'it wasn't even this bad when she worked for Miranda.'
That, of course, had set off a chain reaction in her brain. Most days she could pretend she had never met Miranda. Never saw her, never spoke to her, never disappointed her. It was a lie, of course, at no point in her life had she ever successfully stopped thinking about Miranda and it was beginning to damage her. She was self aware enough to know that.
She didn't go out anymore, she didn't see her family, and Nigel was right, she didn't see her friends either. The pitying glances and the looks that weren't always hidden quickly enough and who wanted to be on the end of those. She sighed and pulled up Page Six on her laptop. She had never bookmarked the page, but she didn't need to. Miranda was a frequent flyer, that hadn't changed but the photos had, and the scorn that they described her.
Even Page Six had noticed something was different.
The kids were older now. By Andy's reckoning, they were seniors or thereabouts, and she wondered if that had something to do with it. Miranda hadn't married again, no doubt Stephen was the straw that broke the camel's back. She had also noticed, as she perused Page Six with a less-than-healthy frequency, that immediately after the divorce, Miranda had been photographed almost exclusively doing things with the kids.
And then that had stopped as well.
All things fade, she supposed, and perhaps that was why there was an emptiness in the woman's eyes, even when she was at work functions.
She closed the laptop again and sat back on the sofa. She didn't have to work tomorrow and had nothing planned until Nigel's outing. She walked over to the fridge and poured herself a healthy serving of vodka and went to run the bath. With any luck she'd be drunk enough that by the time she got out, that she'd fall right to sleep and dream of nothing at all.
-0-
She preempted him pressing the door buzzer and stepped out onto the street as he got out of the car.
"Well hello there, gorgeous!"
"Happy New Year, Nigel. Don't you look dashing!"
"Why, of course I do! Beautiful, but ill-fated Prince Charming is so in this season."
"I will take your word for it," she chuckled as she tried desperately to keep her feet on the icy sidewalk. Her dress was beautiful; a Marchesa cap sleeve fitted laser-cut stretch velvet gown with delicate lace embroidery and crystals, stones, & bugle beads at the chest and then around her knees and to the floor. She had squealed when she'd seen it and he stood back and grinned at her as she flashed her figure. They'd adjusted it to fit her and she'd starved herself for a solid 24 hours so she could pour herself into it with no embarrassments.
"Gorgeous," he grinned as he opened the door. "Come on, we'd best be off before they run out of the good liquor."
"Are they counting down at this party?"
"I'm certainly not," Nigel scoffed. "I'm going to Alexander's after-party. I will release you at eleven, is that okay? I know it's a bit longer than -"
"Nige? It's fine. You need time to schmooze and then we need time to get you drunk before you go to Alexander -" she paused. "McQueen's?"
"Would you like me to spell that for you," he chuckled even though she thumped his bicep. "For all his success, he is terribly cheap with the champagne. At least I know they'll have the good stuff here."
"Cannot wait."
"Would you mind terribly, coming with me to do the rounds? You might even get a story?"
"Ah, appealing to my journalistic tendencies, I see. Of course I will," she chuckled. "Any juicy scandal I can turn up could make or break me, but or you, I will do it for free."
"Perish at the thought, darling," he groaned as the car slowed. "Now -" He pushed her hair off her shoulders and nodded for her to drop the coat. He tapped her shoulder and grinned with approval as she pushed her chest out.
"That's what they're there for, darling," he grinned. "Come on. Time to floor 'em."
The camera flashes were something she hadn't missed, especially as she was now on the other side of them. She did her best to let it wash over her as Nigel twisted her this way and that. The paparazzi were screaming for Nigel's comments, but they didn't stop, not even for her people. Nobody was there to do an in-depth review of the year, so they headed inside.
"Not so bad," Nigel chuckled as he wiped his face with a handkerchief. "Now. I'll get us drinks. You stand there and look amazing."
"I can do that," she grinned. "Thanks to you."
A few people looked at her as they passed, some of them with a vague sense of recollection on their faces and others with a smile, regardless. She saw a few people that she knew were new to the industry, a few heavy hitters and then Donatella had arrived in a cloud of Dylan Blue and immediately recognised her.
"Andréa, darling, it has been so long."
"It has, it's great to see you, Donatella. You look wonderful."
"As well I should after a sojourn to the coast." Andy grinned at the code for her latest procedure. "Is she here?"
"Who?"
"Who," Donatella scoffed. "I shall go and find her. Ciao, darling, ciao."
Andy swallowed and didn't look at the few people who went by after she'd left. In fact, as she stood there and let the words wash over her, she started to panic. Her hands were clammy and she knew she'd be shot if she wiped them on the dress. She turned and looked for Nigel and found him talking to someone she knew vaguely but could not recall the name of. She interrupted as calmly as she could.
"Nigel, sorry, um, something's come up. I have to go."
"What?"
She shook her head and turned to find and exit until his hands grabbed her shoulders.
"Andy, calm down."
"Did you know?"
"Know what, doll?"
"She -"
"Ah," he nodded. "Come along."
He weaved them in and out of the burgeoning crowd until he found a room off the main hall that looked empty. He pulled her inside and fanned her with a menu.
"Andy, this has got to stop."
"I cannot just turn it off, Nigel," she snapped. "It's fucking debilitating, do you think I want this?"
"I don't know, doll, but maybe it's time to put up or shut up?"
"What?"
"When she gets here -"
"So you did know."
"Of course I did," he rolled his eyes and yanked her hand out of his. "Andy, this is the one party she enjoys, during the Holiday season, and she hasn't changed that much. She won't be here for long, you'd be lucky to even catch a glimpse of her."
"Nigel -"
"Doll, I need you." She rolled her eyes and glared at him. "Please, Andy. I'll get you an interview with whoever you want. And a drink, I'm sorry, I did promise -"
"Nigel. This is it, okay? I'm done. You were right. I need to move on and to do that, I need to let go of this -"
"No, Andy -"
"Yes, Nigel. I have to. For me. So I'll do this thing for you and when we leave at eleven, I love you, but it's done."
She had thrown him, she knew that. He dabbed his forehead again and nodded. After she took his offered arm, they exited the room like nothing could phase them.
-0-
Talking to investors and potential cover artists was exhausting. Andy remembered it well as she tried valiantly not to think of Paris Fashion Week. There were definitely a better spread of people at this party and she'd already secured a sit down meeting with two of New York's movers and shakers. Emily and Serena had sent Nigel a message begging off for the evening. It didn't matter too much, Emily's co-editor was here and Andy got to meet her and sing Em's praises. The woman seemed just what Emily needed as a business partner and it was all going exceedingly well until Andy stood straighter as she was talking to Elie Saab's assistant nursing her second Whisky Sour. She remembered the woman well, but when Andy felt the stillness of the room change, she was on high alert.
"Andy?"
"Sorry," she blinked as she shook her head. She repeated Nigel's promise like a mantra.
Miranda would only be here for fifteen minutes and it was unlikely they would even see her.
Even as she repeated it, Andy knew how stupid she'd been. Nigel was Miranda's best friend in business, and perhaps in life. Of course there would be a moment when the two of them would seek each other out. She watched as Elie's assistant made herself scarce and Andy took a deep breath. There was no way she could escape now, she could practically feel the woman standing behind her. She took another breath for good measure and she turned, plastering a smile on her face that actually did turn a little genuine when she was face to face with the Devil in Prada; the woman who haunted her every waking moment.
"Miranda," she said quietly.
The woman stared at her, running her eyes down to the floor and then back to her face. She tried her very best not to blush.
"Andréa."
In her head she'd had this meeting a thousand times but now the moment was here, every thought vacated her head like a cloud of smoke. She stared at the woman, taking in dress and the shoes and the elbow-length black gloves, but most importantly, she focused in on the gap between her eyebrows. The one where her frown usually lived. Page Six had photographed that frown like it was every year's hottest accessory but it was strangely absent tonight and Andy was fascinated by it.
"Walk with me."
It was not a request, so Andy didn't make any lame excuses about Nigel or refusing her request so she could rejoin him.
Instead, she slugged the rest of her drink and fell into step beside the woman. She didn't utter a word when Miranda led them to the elevator bank in the lobby. As they stepped into the car, Andy heard her phone beep but she didn't open her clutch. She knew how this part went and she stood, respectfully, off to the side as they travelled up to the top floor. It made sense that Miranda had the penthouse on New Year's Eve.
The elevator doors opened into the suite and Miranda breezed out of the elevator without sparing a glance at the opulence that surrounded them. Andy, even as seasoned as she was now, still gasped at the view.
"You have a great view for the ball drop," Andy said quietly.
Miranda looked up like she couldn't quite believe Andy was even standing there.
"Oh, that wasn't why," she waved her hand like she was shooing a fly. "Whatever."
Andy blinked and couldn't help the little frown between her eyes as she saw Miranda standing in the middle of the suite looking a little lost.
"Did you mean to bring me up here?"
"Mean to?" Miranda scoffed even though Andy could see she looked just a little uncomfortable. "Of course I did."
"Right," Andy chuckled. "So. What can I do for you Miranda?"
The woman's eyes closed and Andy watched as she took a deep breath.
"I -" She stopped and pulled off her gloves and ran her fingers through her hair. Andy could see some of the hairspray let go and it curled into a delightful wave. "This is ridiculous."
"Miranda?" Andy whispered. "Are you okay?"
The woman dropped her hands to her side and Andy watched those proud shoulders curl in on themselves.
"You would not know," Miranda muttered. "Of course, you have not been here, um, around."
"Okay."
"After Stephen, I committed to spending time with the girls and working on -" She swallowed. "Myself." She said it with such disdain that Andy couldn't help but bite her tongue so she didn't smile. Instead, she nodded respectfully and waited for the woman to continue. "I have been going to therapy and have found it has helped."
"Good, that's really great, Miranda," Andy said genuinely. Lord knows the woman needed some sort of outlet.
"Is that all you have to say?"
"Um," Andy blinked. "Yes? What would you prefer me to say?"
"No digs at my mental capacity?"
"Miranda -"
"Andréa. I brought you here, to -" She stopped again, but then she straightened her shoulders and stood to her full height. "To explain to you. And to -"
"Don't you dare apologise," Andy whispered. "Not for the way I left."
"But -"
"No, that was not on you. That was on me."
"No!" Miranda argued. "I pushed you away, I was protecting -"
"And you'd done a million other things to me, that hurt me far more than what you did to Nigel."
The woman stared.
"What are you saying?"
"I left for my own reasons. It was nothing to do with you, well." She winced. "It was nothing that you did or said in that moment that led me to abandoning you in the middle of the busiest weeks of fashion. And for that, Miranda, I am deeply and truly sorry."
"That's it?"
"Huh?"
"Andréa, you have me at your mercy, you could -"
"Miranda," Andy chastised. "I have never been that. Don't insult me by pretending I am and don't make it something it isn't."
They stood staring at each other and Andy didn't want to be remorseful for derailing the woman's plans but she was nothing if consistent. She would protect Miranda, even from herself, if necessary.
"You have ruined my entire evening."
"Then I apologise, again," Andy whispered. Her gut was churning and she regretted the second whisky sour she'd just downed. Starving herself for 36 hours to fit in the dress and then drinking two in quick succession had not been a sensible choice. "I'll get out of your hair. Regardless of anything? It was really great to see you again, Miranda. You look as beautiful as always. And I am glad to see you happy, for a change. Take care and Happy New Year."
She turned and left the main room for the little corridor to the elevator and pushed the button. Just as she was about to message Nigel, a hand on her arm stopped her.
"Explain."
"Sorry?"
"You said, back there, a moment ago, you said you were glad to see me happy."
"Yes," Andy shrugged. The elevator dinged and Andy reached out to hold the doors open when they did. "You are happy this evening. I am glad to see it."
"How do you -" A hard look came over her face and she tugged on Andy's arm. "Follow me."
Andy looked at the elevator for a long time and followed the woman. Her stomach was not particularly happy with her and her head was feeling just a little light but when she followed the woman blindly into a room off the main living area, she paused.
"Sit," Miranda instructed.
Andy did so and tried not to mumble to herself about how much of an idiot she was for allowing Nigel to suck her back into this life.
"Look at me."
Andy did and her jaw dropped to the floor. Miranda Priestly was in nought but that fucking grey bath robe and Andy could tell that because the dress Miranda wore had been strapless and practically painted on.
"Miranda -" she breathed.
"Tell me what you see." Miranda ordered. "Where is it that you, who have not laid eyes on me for years, can see that I am happy. Where, Andréa?"
Andy sat still for a while longer just to check Miranda wasn't being facetious. When the woman huffed at how long it was taking Andy to do as she was told, she did not wait any longer. She stood, carefully, and walked over to the woman. She spun them around and pointed in the mirror.
"I don't need all this, though it is nice," she muttered. She blinked and wondered why she'd said that. "All I need is this," Andy whispered. Her thumb brushed Miranda's chin and though she was becoming more and more uncomfortable, she appreciated the little gasp she got in doing so. "I need just a tiny bit of you, to know."
"Where," Miranda breathed. "How."
"Don't know how," Andy shrugged, glancing down at the woman's bare shoulders. "I know you."
Miranda looked at her beseechingly and Andy gave in. She trailed a lone finger up Miranda's cheek and over her temple. She watched the progress of that finger in the mirror as if she did not own it, nor make decisions for it. It stopped between perfectly sculpted eyebrows and Andy rubbed her thumb, just a little, along the left one.
"You frown, just there. Have done for a long time."
Miranda abandoned the mirror and turned. Andy, who's faculties were leaving her faster and faster, could not move her hand quick enough and felt it slide into the woman's hair.
"Oh," she whispered. "Miranda -"
"Andréa, I need to know."
"Okay?"
"I need you to say it?"
"Say what?"
"Andréa!"
At that moment, the alcohol and the empty stomach decided that it was time to join the party. She yanked herself away from Miranda and covered her mouth with her hand. For as odd as Miranda was acting, her immediate response was appreciated and Miranda yanked her into the bathroom and pulled a hair tie from a little bag on the sink.
"Just a moment, Andréa, hold on -"
She felt the zipper on the dress being drawn down and her stomach rolled.
"Easy," Miranda pleaded. "Stay calm."
They'd adjusted it so beautifully that she hadn't needed any tape so when Miranda encouraged her to let it fall, it did so and Andy couldn't hold it any longer. She threw herself at the toilet and threw up nothing but alcohol and bile.
She groaned and wished to die in that very moment. Something soft and warm covered her back but she couldn't tell what it was with her face two inches into the bowl. She heaved again and started crying.
"It's alright, Andréa. Just breathe, it's okay."
The words coming out of the woman's mouth made no sense whatsoever, but Andy didn't argue. As there wasn't much to throw up, it didn't last long but Miranda dutifully moved forward and helped her to sit on the tub. She flushed the toilet and ran a cloth under the water. Without a single word, she wiped Andy's face, making sure to allow her a moment to rinse her mouth out, before she stepped across her and turned on the shower.
"Take a moment, then come and join me. I take it you haven't eaten?"
Andy made an unintelligent noise, but Miranda didn't seem to mind. She pushed Andy, gently, towards the shower and left her to it. The distance helped and Andy stared at the pattern on the tile for a long time, wishing she could fall into it, until she knew she couldn't wait any longer. She washed up, but left her hair, and stepped out to dry off. The only thing on the counter were the towels, a new toothbrush in plastic, and that soft, grey robe.
She stared at it for so long, again, until she, again, knew there was no other choice. She cracked the door and peeked out.
"Come," Miranda said as she met her at the door. "Sit. Eat."
"I -" Andy's throat burned but she couldn't refuse. She did as she was told and guzzled a whole glass of water before Miranda refilled it. This, she sipped slowly, and watched as Miranda lifted the covers off some plates that Andy was relatively certain weren't there before. "When did you -"
"You need to eat something. You had a drink or two," Andy nodded. "I had not realised you hadn't eaten."
"You -" Andy blinked. "Wait. How did you know I'd had two? I didn't -"
"I was there, Andréa. I arrived a few moments after you both did."
"Oh."
It was all she had and Andy drank another half a glass before she sat back.
"I got a selection, I wasn't sure what you'd feel like."
"Um, no, this is great, actually."
And it was. Miranda had ordered breakfast things and even, Andy had to laugh, a few little chocolate chip pancakes. They didn't speak as they loaded their plates and until Andy had wiped up the rest of her syrup, she didn't stop to think about anything.
"Thank you, Miranda, for taking care of me. I'm sorry I had to put you through that." The woman shrugged.
"I have seen it often enough," she muttered.
"But not from me and for that I apologise."
"Apology accepted."
Andy sat back and played with the corner of the tablecloth, full and feeling a little better. She watched as Miranda stared at her empty plate but did not move to fill the silence. Andy sighed.
"Look, Miranda," she said gently. The woman looked up and met her eyes. "I know that you detest explaining yourself. And honestly, I wish I could still read your mind, but it's been too long. Will you please try and explain what I'm doing here? And why it seems to upset you?"
Miranda sipped a glass of water and nodded.
"Will you sit with me?"
Andy didn't point out that they were already doing that, but instead, got up and moved around the table to join Miranda on a chaise by the windows.
"After Stephen left, I began to spend more time with the twins and began therapy, as I already said." Andy nodded. "It did not take me long to realise that Caroline and Cassidy were two very different young adults than they were the last time I had paid them any attention. That alone made the therapy even more important. As it happened, they were not that much older when they declared that hanging out with their mother was like last season's shirt. It's fine, now and then, but on the whole, it was better to experience it sporadically."
"That must have been difficult," Andy muttered.
"It was," Miranda sighed. "I had expected that they would jump at the chance, but their friends had become their whole world. And as a mother, I was only too happy to see their happiness, even if it was at a detriment to my own."
Andy watched the woman watch the world go by and swallowed. She reached forward and covered Miranda's hand where it sat on her knee.
"That does not mean they don't have room in their life for their mom?"
"No," Miranda chuckled. "No, I am still called when they need money or permission or something of that nature, but the time that I thought I had, dwindled." She waved it away like an inconvenience but Andy could see the hurt.
"They'll come back around once they go to college," Andy smiled. "I did the same thing, I think. It's been a long time since I was seventeen."
"You remembered?"
"I definitely guessed a little," Andy admitted.
"Their father missed it by a week."
"Ouch," Andy winced. "How did they take that?"
"They're used to it," Miranda muttered.
She didn't say anything and Miranda sat back with a groan.
"My therapist would say that it isn't my fault that his choices reflect poorly on him, but they reflect on me as well. I am horrified that he forgot his children's birthday. It's been the same day, every year, for seventeen years."
Andy didn't really want to discuss Miranda ex-husbands but it seemed as though her answer would need to be "discussed into", rather than spoken to the point. She sat back as well and watched the lights from downtown flash up into the sky.
"My mother is very unhappy that I did not travel back to Cincinnati this year," she muttered. "I would never say it to her face, but it is entirely her fault. Just be thankful that you will never have that."
"Who said?" Miranda scoffed. "What if I've -"
"You haven't," Andy replied, fully assured of her answer.
"How on earth could you possibly -"
"Because you love your daughters as they are. You don't require them to be something else to love them, you don't ask them to give up a part of them to 'fit in'."
"What do you mean?"
"I came out to my mother and she has pretended I've never done so. But you'd best believe she takes it out on me every time we speak. She made my niece and nephew cry the other day because she told them that I did not want to see them. My sister takes after her, so you know how that will go as they grow up."
"I -" Miranda blinked and looked at her carefully. "I am so sorry, Andréa."
"It's fine," Andy chuckled. "It's one of those things, I suppose."
"And your father?"
"He, um," she took a deep breath. "He hasn't spoken to me since. He listens when she calls but he hasn't spoken to me since I worked for you."
"Andréa -"
"Don't," Andy shrugged. "It's fine. I'm used to it." They sat quietly for another long moment before Andy turned to Miranda. She noticed, absently, that their hands had remained entwined and she rubbed her thumb over Miranda's for just a moment. When she looked up, the woman was watching her and she met those stormy blue eyes. "You never really answered me."
"Do I have to?"
"I think you might," Andy whispered. "Because I'm not certain of anything, right now."
"Andréa -"
A beam of light lit up the whole skyline for a moment and Andy realised they were a minute out from midnight. She looked over at Miranda who looked ill at the realisation and Andy suddenly didn't care what Miranda was going to say. Instead, she would say her piece and once the ball dropped, they would figure out the rest.
"Okay," she said urgently as she turned and took Miranda's other hand in hers. "Actually, you know what? It's okay. It's okay if you don't tell me, but I want to tell you something." Miranda blinked at her. "I have less than a minute to try and explain but maybe I'll just cut right to the chase." She blinked some more and Andy smiled. "I am in love with you. I have been since you dumped your coat and bag on Emily's desk for the first time. The way you looked at me, the way you appreciated me, in that moment made me fall and I've kept falling every day since. I've single-handedly helped Page Six with their ratings, scouring their pages for a glimpse of you. That's how I knew." She tried to let go of Miranda's hand but those fingers gripped her for dear life. Instead, she took a deep breath and leaned forward. She paused, barely a breath away but Miranda stayed perfectly still. She pressed her lips between those prefect eyebrows and left a long kiss before the laid her forehead against that spot and stared into the woman's eyes. "I would love to tell you that I've had all this time and worked everything out in my head, but I haven't. But I think this year, with only -" she glanced away and then came right back. "About 12 seconds left, should be the year I tell you, so you are up, Miranda. You get to govern how next year is going to be. I only ask for one thing?"
"Yes?" Miranda breathed.
"May I have this kiss?"
The fireworks went off, outside and inside as their lips met and the crowd from all the way down at the street started cheering. Andy cupped the woman's face and changed the angle and Miranda moaned as Andy's tongue traced her lips.
"Andréa -"
"It's okay," Andy said sadly. "It's okay. Thank you for that, Miranda. I'm sorry that -"
"Where are you going?" Miranda blinked as she looked up.
"I'm -" she blinked. "Shouldn't I go home?"
"Whatever for?"
"I -"
Miranda stared at the continuing fireworks and groaned as she stood.
"You are infuriating," Miranda chuckled. She cupped Andy's cheeks and kissed her again and Andy's eyebrows shot up to her hairline.
"Stay."
"I -"
"Stay. You can still read my mind, just fine, Andréa." Miranda chuckled. "Thank you for saying what I could not. I promise you that I am working on sharing my feelings, but now I know that they are reciprocated, I have loved you since you dropped that bound manuscript on my desk. That cheeky little look you gave me made me want to throw myself across the desk. Paris was me, reeling from what you had seen me do and I wanted to protect myself from your disappointment."
"I left you because I loved you."
"I let you go because I loved you," Miranda admitted. "Stay, now. End this separation. Please, Andréa. Be with me and just -" She shrugged. "Be with me, please? I am not above begging, Andréa, I will, if you -"
"God no," Andy laughed as she pulled Miranda in. "No, no need for that. I -" She looked down at her and noticed that she was a little taller. It pleased her, somehow. "I would love to. If you'll have me."
Miranda's smile was so beautiful that Andy leaned in to kiss her once more. It seemed natural that Miranda would wrap her arms around her and that, somehow, they managed to make their way across the room and into the bedroom, where they fell into it together.
The flash and the sparkle from the fireworks only made everything feel more magical, as Miranda gasped and begged and Andréa lived out so many fantasies in one go. She discovered, quiet quickly, that while those fantasies had given her enjoyment over the years, her all-time favourite version was the one where Miranda's hands clung to her tightly and that acerbic voice, once used as a weapon, now whispered all the reasons she loved Andréa between gasps and moans and cries of joy.
Andréa was so gentle with the woman and she wondered if anyone else had ever been. Miranda literally clung to her in so much desperation that Andy shed a tear as Miranda came around her fingers. They lay together, breathing quietly and as she blinked hers away, she realised Miranda was crying as well.
"It's okay," Andy promised.
"Thank you, Andréa," she whispered, tearfully. "Thank you."
"Hey," Andy grinned. "No need to thank me. I'm right here with you and while I don't know how it's going to work, I know that it will. Because I choose to make sure it will."
"As do I."
"I want this. I want us to want this too. I want us to make an effort to make sure it didn't end up by the wayside. We're busy, for sure, but between us, we can make it work."
"I swear to you, Andréa," Miranda muttered as she turned them over and leaned down to kiss Andy's neck. "I swear to you that we will make this work. This is the beginning of everything, so Happy New Year, my darling, my love."
"Let's begin as we mean to go on, shall we?" Andy grinned as she accepted Miranda between her thighs and her eyes closed against the world.