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Miranda's Runway

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Miranda woke up every morning at 5:30. Neither a night of passion nor a night of work could turn off her internal alarm clock. This morning felt better than most. How could it not when she had woken up in the arms of a beautiful woman? After spending a few moments gazing at her love, Miranda quietly arose from the bed. She donned her robe and left the bedroom in search of her laptop and a coffee maker.

**

Andy loved to sleep in. The snooze button on her alarm clock was her friend. It was 8:00 when she rolled over to find the other half of her bed empty. She stretched and smiled as she remembered the events of the previous night. Removing a large t-shirt from her drawer, she pulled it on as she walked out to the kitchen. Andy paused in the doorway to watch Miranda working on her laptop. It felt so natural to find Miranda at work first thing in the morning, wonderful, in fact.

 

“You found the coffee maker,” Andy said with a smile. She walked over and kissed Miranda on the top of her head. As she started to move away, Miranda grabbed her hand and scooted her chair out from the table, pulling Andy on her lap.

“That was not a good morning kiss. Let's try again, shall we?” Miranda said.

Andy smiled and wrapped her arms around Miranda’s shoulders as she leaned in for a proper kiss. The kiss was anything but proper, though. Andy started with a slow and gentle touch of the lips. Miranda allowed that for about three seconds before placing her hands on Andy's head and making love to her mouth. Andy nearly swooned.

By the time they parted, they were breathing hard.

“I have been waiting for you for hours!” Miranda complained.

Andrea rolled her eyes and kissed Miranda on the temple.

“Well, it appears you found a way to occupy yourself. Do you have a lot more to do?”

Miranda shut her laptop with a decisive click and slid Andy off her lap as she stood up.

“I always have a lot more work to do. However,” she said in a husky voice, “I have nothing to do that can’t wait.” She began to pull Andy back to the bedroom. “Your little lie-in gave me time to get most of what I needed done until I go home.” Andy chuckled as Miranda pushed her down on the bed.

“Now in here I have a lot more to do that can't wait," Miranda declared as she slipped off her robe, pulled Andy’s shirt off, and proceeded to demonstrate just what exactly she needed to do.

After two hours of exploring every inch of each other's bodies, Andy begged for a break. “Food, please. I need food.” She looked at her insatiable lover. “Water, water would be good. Wouldn't you like some water?” she asked while pulling her best puppy-dog look, one she had perfected over the years.

Miranda laughed.

“Oh, darling, I would hate for you to starve or expire from dehydration.” She leaned in and kissed Andy on the tip of her nose. “Let's go out for lunch. I fear if we stay in, you will be lunch.” Andy shivered at the thought.

Miranda hopped out of bed and threw over her shoulder, “Join me in the shower?” Andy grinned as she quickly followed her lover into the bathroom.

**

Andy was amazed at how Miranda could go from voracious lover one minute to a composed lunch partner the next. Andy was barely able to look at Miranda’s hands without blushing, and any time Miranda’s voice hit a certain tone, her eyes glazed over. Which of course meant that Miranda used it throughout their meal. “Lord, Miranda, what did they put in your Wheaties this morning?”

“It seems a few years of working in the comfort of your home has reduced your stamina, my Dear.”

Andy huffed, offended.

“Maybe you should come back to Runway. A few weeks of Starbucks runs and you will be better in no time.”

“I think you just want me there so you can chase me around your desk.”

Miranda’s smile was bright as she responded, “Well, either way you would build up your endurance.”

Andy shook her head and asked, “Have you always been so indefatigable?”

Miranda’s face became very serious. “I am fifty-three years old, I've been married twice, and have had lovers both male and female. Yet my feelings for you seem new and exciting.” Miranda looked deeply into Andrea’s eyes. “After you left me in Paris I realized that there was a huge hole in my life. There was a noticeable heaviness in my heart. Everyone thought it was the divorce.” Miranda reached out and took Andy’s hand. “I turned around, and you were gone. I carried on and did my job, but I have not been interested in anyone romantically since. That part of me went into the fountain with your phone.”

Andy started to speak. “I am so sorry. If I had known I was hurting you…”

Miranda put her finger across Andy’s lips. “I do not want an apology. I spent the last four years getting closer to my children, and you have found your place in the world.” She removed her finger and smiled gently. “I am just so glad we found our way to each other. Knowing that you enjoy my touch energizes me. I just can’t get enough of you.”

Andy smiled, and her thoughts turned to her daughter. “I am glad it is such a nice day,” Andy mused. “Mandy had been looking forward to this trip for weeks.”

Miranda nodded, “It is a lovely day. Would you care to join me in a walk with Patricia after lunch? I really do need to get home to her. Tamera lets her out in the mornings when she comes to clean, but she needs a walk.”

“All right; then what?”

Miranda grimaced. “I need to work on the book, darling.” Her face went blank as she waited for Andy’s reply. Andy could see the fear in the older woman’s eyes as she brought work into their equation.

“Miranda, I know how hard you work. I know what it takes to do what you do.” She smiled reassuringly as she continued. “I will not allow Runway
to be a problem for us.” Miranda continued to give nothing away, her face still blank. “I know! We can have book time. I am working on a few new ideas. I can bring my laptop to the townhouse, and we can both work.”

Miranda smiled hesitantly. “I would like that. I'm not ready for today to be over.”

Andy’s smile was bright as she replied, “So the plan is walk the horse, book time, and…" Her smile became lascivious.

Miranda rolled her eyes at Andy’s nickname for Patricia, but after a few moments, her face opened up fully. “I hope I can concentrate during book time since I know I will be thinking about and…!”

***

Miranda looked at the floor of her home office. Andrea was sitting against the couch as she surfed the web for information about Siamese cats. She had confided in Miranda that she had become enamored with the straightforward prose and concepts she was able to use when writing for children. She also was amazed that her limited artistic abilities made for good illustrations.

“Are you comfortable, darling?” Miranda asked.

Andrea looked up at her words. “You do realize this is the third time you have asked me that question, right?” Andrea said as she shook her head in amusement.

 Miranda blushed as she replied. “I should order another desk if book time is going to be a common occurrence.”

“Miranda my answer hasn't changed.” Her voice became exasperated. “I'm comfortable. I work on the floor at home. However, an art table for Mandy might be a good idea.” Now Andrea’s voice became hesitant. “She is not away very often you know. You’ll have to work with that. If this,” she waved her hand between the two of them, “is to continue, she will be with us more often then not.”

Miranda chuckled. “Well, I guess we can schedule child time as well as book time. I do have two of my own you know.”

Andrea nodded, apparently pleased by the idea.

Miranda continued. “Actually, I think we have the child time down pat. We will have to navigate us time.” She hesitated then continued, “The children will need to know.”

Andrea laughed. “I know Mandy will be fine with it. My days are filled with Randa this and Randa that, morning, noon, and night.”

Miranda smirked. “Cassidy and Caroline will also be receptive. I believe that they have been hinting at their approval of the idea for quite some time.”

Andrea looked deep in to Miranda’s eyes. “So you will stay with me tonight? Even though Mandy will be there when we get up, you will stay?”

Miranda moved from her desk and kneeled down next to Andrea. “I would love to.” Her voice got husky. “What would you say to a break in book time and a little bit of…”

Andrea moved so the two women’s foreheads were touching. “I would say, Oh, yeah.”

***

Andy was grateful that Mandy did not wake up as Frank carried her in and put her to bed. The children had put their pajamas on before they had left New Jersey; so it was a simple transfer from car to bed.

“Hey Andy,” Frank asked, “where did you get that overnight bag? Jess loved the pink handles and has decided it is all she wants for her birthday.”

Andy internally cringed as she sent evil thoughts to her sleeping girlfriend. Frank would never be able to finance that kind of gift. “I will have to check with Miranda,” she lied. “I'm not sure where she got it. It may just have been something she had around.”

“Okay, let me know.”

Once Andy got back in bed, Miranda opened her eyes and asked, “Home safe and sound?”

Andy nodded and bopped Miranda on the head. It was a gentle touch, but it clearly conveyed her irritation. “Jess loved Mandy’s bag so much it is all she wants for her birthday.” She snuggled into her lover's body as she declared, “No more over the top gifts.” She felt Miranda stiffen. “Okay, no more over the top gifts that she will use with her friends. I have no idea how I am going to break it to Frank that it would cost him a week's pay to give Jess a bag like Mandy’s.” Sighing, Andy closed her eyes. She'd figure out what to tell Frank tomorrow.

***
As on the previous day, morning found Miranda up and working in the early hours. This time she was concentrating on a more in-depth look at the Book. Yesterday’s distractions made a second look necessary. After a couple of hours she looked up, smiling at her young friend's gasp upon seeing her in the living room.

“Hi, Randa!” The child ran over and climbed up on the editor’s lap. Miranda gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“Hello, Dear Heart. You are bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this morning.”

The younger Miranda giggled. “Why are you here? Did you stay to keep Momma company? Are you going to make my breakfast?”

“Oh my, you are a morning person. Why don't you let me answer one question at a time?"

"Okay." The child nodded. “Why are you here?’”

“I stayed to keep your momma company.”

“Did you sleep in the guest room?”

Miranda felt like a bomb had dropped in her lap. She and Andrea had agreed to tell the children, but she had anticipated that they would each be telling their own children. She took a deep breath.

“No, I slept in your momma’s room.” She waited on tenter hooks for the next question.

“Man, Cassidy is going to be mad.”

Miranda’s eyes widened at that comment.“Why would that be? She likes your momma.”

 “Yeah, but she owes Caroline twenty dollars now.”

“Excuse me?”

“Caroline said you would start being girlfriends this weekend. But Cassidy said you were too lame and would take longer.”

Miranda tried to keep her voice from getting too chilly as she decided how she was going to torture her girls, not only for the bet but for letting Miranda know about it. “What did that mean exactly, that we would become girlfriends?”

Miranda giggled. “That’s what I asked Cassidy. She said it is like when being away from each other makes you sad so you both agree to be together more so you don't feel bad.” Miranda nodded relieved that Cassidy had kept it age appropriate.

“So how do you know we are girlfriends now?”

Miranda giggled some more. “Caroline said that when you like someone so much that you want to hug them like a stuffed pony even when you are sleeping, it means you are girlfriends. Did you hug Momma like my stuffed pony?”

Miranda threw back her head and laughed at the absurdity of the question. “Yes, it makes me sad to be away from your momma, and I do like to cuddle with her. So I guess we are girlfriends by the twins' definition.”

"Cool. Sometimes you can cuddle people who aren't your girlfriend, right?” She looked at Miranda shyly.

“Well, only if they are very special people.” She pulled her young friend in for a hug before pulling back. Tapping Miranda on the nose with each word she said, “And you are very special people.”

“So are you gonna?”

“Am I going to do what?”

“Make breakfast, silly?” Miranda asked, not realizing the import of the previous questions and continuing on with her morning thoughts. With a nod, they made their way to the kitchen.

While they were cooking Miranda said, “I hear Jess really liked your bag.”

“Yup, she likes pink, too. Her sister, Macy, likes blue. Do they make them with blue handles, Randa? Jess wants one for her birthday, and Macy does, too.”

“Yes, the bag comes in many colors. How many siblings does Jess have?”

“Only her and Macy, oh, and Tina. Tina is only sometimes, though. Her mom is sick a lot, so she stays with Jess. They are foster sisters.”

“I see; does Tina have a favorite color?”

“I'm not sure. She is sad a lot, and doesn't talk much. She wears a lot of purple, though.”

Miranda nodded thoughtfully.

In spite of her relief that her daughters had taken care of the girlfriend talk, Miranda was not happy about the bet they had made or Miranda’s knowledge of it. As a repercussion, Miranda planned to require the girls to donate twenty dollars to the charity of her choice. They would learn to not place bets on her happiness.

***

When Frank Williams came home from work, he was greeted at the door by some very excited children. “Dad, there is a big box for you! Can we open it?” Frank glanced to his wife and then the box. She handed him a card.

“It was delivered by some kind of private courier service. This came with it.” He raised his eyebrows in surprise and read the card out loud.

Dear Mr. Williams,

I wanted to thank you for the wonderful time you gave Miranda Sachs at Six Flags. She is very special to me, and I was delighted to hear her exciting tales of the day.

Miranda mentioned that your daughters liked the bag I had given her. Due to my position at Runway magazine I am frequently gifted with products from designers. As I am in the fashion business, it would not be good politics to tell people like Louis Vuitton that I don't need a new bag every season. I hope you will not be offended that I am doing what my daughter calls "re-gifting," but I am thrilled with the opportunity to make a little space in my closet.

Sincerely,

Miranda Priestly

Jess and Macy squealed as the contents of the box were revealed. Inside were three sets of Louis Vuitton soft-side luggage, some small Prada purses, and a selection of accessories in the colors of pink, blue, and purple.

Tina stayed toward the back of the room. Mysterious packages for the Williams family did not mean anything to her; why would it? When Frank came over and handed her the purple gifts, her share of the booty, she didn't know what to do. The words “Thank you” slipped out of her mouth without her even realizing it. Tina could speak and would answer direct questions, but it was the first time since she had started staying with the Williams that she had spoken spontaneously. It was the first time that she felt she could be a part of a family.

 

***

“I got a call from Frank Williams today." Miranda and Andy were enjoying their weekly lunch date.

Miranda cocked an eyebrow in question. “Mmm,” she responded.

“It seems that you were cleaning out your closet and found all kinds of merchandise in his daughters' favorite colors, all three of them.”

Miranda looked at her imperiously. “You are aware of what is sent to me. Is there a problem with my passing along samples to someone who will appreciate them?”

“No, Miranda. At first, Frank was a little put out by such a significant gift. Once I explained to him exactly who you are, he believed the whole cleaning out the closet story.”

“The third child, tell me about her.”

“Tina’s mother, Nancy, is making many bad choices. Her last boyfriend was a drug dealer who beat her up pretty badly. Tina came home from school to find her mom bleeding and close to death on the floor. Child services got involved and are trying to help Nancy take care of Tina. When it gets to be too much, she stays with the Williams family. They would adopt her, but the state keeps trying to help the family to reunify. I think this time Nancy went too far. Tina was home alone for three nights.”

“The child is getting help for emotional issues?”

Andy nodded. “The Williams are doing what they can. Her mother doesn't keep her appointments, though, and not all psychologists will take the state insurance. They would gladly do more, but the stipend they get from the state is not much."

“I see. Please remind Mr. Williams that I am constantly gifted with clothing for the biannual Teen Runway addition. If I were to have his children's sizes, I would appreciate having someone to take the clothing off my hands.” Miranda believed that comfortable, well-made, beautiful clothing could lighten a burdened soul. As Tina’s soul was more burdened than most, Miranda would make sure she received the best at a regular basis. By sending equal gifts to her foster sisters, Miranda would make sure that the child felt a part of a family, not a charity recipient. 


 

***

“Randa?”

Miranda looked up from her papers. It was book time at the townhouse. While Miranda and Andrea worked, young Miranda often did art work at the second desk Miranda had added to her office. She had actually add it to the office for Andrea. As the younger woman had warned, she never used it. Andrea had been exasperated that Miranda hadn't believed that she preferred sitting on the floor. So the desk became young Miranda’s art desk.

“Yes, Dear Heart?”

“Can I come to a fashion show with you?”

Miranda’s eyes widened in surprise. “Why would you want to do that?”

“I just do," the young girl said. “Did you ever take Caroline and Cassidy with you?”

Miranda smiled at the memory. “They hated it. By the time it was over, Dianne was barely speaking to me, and three dresses were ruined because they had gotten into a food fight.” Miranda chuckled. “It is lucky for me that Dianne had felt inspired that year. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to justify the extra pages I gave her in Runway that month!”

Little Miranda giggled.

“After that we would take other kinds of trips. They would pick the place. When Cassidy chose, it was invariably the zoo or aquarium. For Caroline it was different each time. She often liked to go to the tourist attractions like the Statue of Liberty, the wax museum, or just ride around on the subway.”

“If I promise to be good and not throw anything, can I come?”

“I am going to see a new designer on Thursday.” She looked over at Andrea. “Would you be amenable to Miranda and I having an outing?”
Andrea nodded at them, smiling.

"Cool. You wanna see my drawing?” Young Miranda frequently jumped from topic to topic.

Miranda looked at her sternly, correcting her poor annunciation, “Do you want to see my drawing?”

“Ok,” said Miranda giggling, “but can I show you mine first?”

Miranda rolled her eyes as Andrea let out a loud guffaw. The editor held out her hand for the drawing. It was a portrait of Miranda. As last time there was a little glitter mixed in with her hair. This time there were blue sequins glued to her face to represent her eyes. Once again Miranda marveled at the quality of the art. Not quite ready for the dining room wall, but clearly it was an indication of raw talent.

“I drew you a special dress.” The child gazed excitedly at her friend. “Do you like it?”

“Yes, sweetheart. It is very nice.” Miranda was surprised at how the lines of the dress were actually very realistic.

“The top is lilac. Why don't you ever wear lilac? It’s pretty.”

Miranda grinned, thinking of previous discussions with other designers who had tried to put her in lilac. She hated lilac.

“Well, I guess the right gown has not come to me in lilac. Maybe when the next one comes, it will be the right one.”

“I don’t think you should wear any more dresses from that Tosman guy.”

“Really? I discovered him myself. I think his gowns are lovely. I wore one at the charity ball last month, and he is making one for me now for the Met benefit in two months.” Miranda was a little miffed. Miranda was the only person who had ever challenged her taste. It was quite frustrating to have to react reasonably to it. Especially with Andrea watching and trying not to laugh.

“You should get Donatella to make you one. Her dresses are always right for you; Valentino is good, too.”

Miranda worked to keep the irritation out of her voice. “I need reasons, Honey. You know I am always going to ask you for specifics. If you say something is not good, you have to say why."

Brown eyes locked on blue. “I don't know really.” Miranda’s eyebrow raised letting Miranda know that the answer would not suffice. The little girl took a deep breath and looked at the ceiling. “When someone good makes you a dress, I think, Randa is so pretty and that is a nice dress. When he dresses you, I think that is a nice dress, and it looks pretty on Randa.” The child thought for a moment longer. “It’s like a good dress decorates you. You aren't supposed to decorate the dress.” The child nodded her head definitively. “So, yeah. The Tosman guy shouldn't get to dress you unless he figures that out."

Miranda was speechless. This was the first time she really understood what Andrea meant by scary smart. What she just had heard was worthy of any employee from Runway, and quite frankly, most of them wouldn't have noticed or been able to explain it. Without even realizing it, Miranda had her phone in hand and was speed-dialing Emily. When the woman answered, she started without preamble. “Call Tosman and tell him he will meet with me and Miranda Sachs before the Santi showing on Thursday. That's all.”

She looked at the young girl. “You can come and see what you think of the gown he is making for me. Can you do this with an open mind and judge this gown on its merits instead of on your opinion of his past gowns?”

Miranda nodded emphatically as she said, “You never know; maybe he got better.”

At this Andrea began to laugh uncontrollably. Then she took a deep breath and choked out, “Once again I remind you that you brought this on yourself.” Both Mirandas glared at her. “God, I wish I could tape these conversations for Nigel and Emily.” And she started to laugh all over again.

Once everything settled down, Miranda looked over to her mother and asked, “Are we staying here or going to the other home?”

Over the past six months, the overnights between families had become more frequent. Young Miranda had taken to calling both places home. They were so at home here that Miranda’s recent fifth birthday party had been held at the townhouse. It was a small gathering of the Priestly, Sachs, and Williams families. Andrea had curtailed Miranda's ideas for party favors and, much to her annoyance, warned the Williams what a reasonable level meant to Miranda.

“I didn't bring a bag, Honey, so I think we will be going to the apartment.”

Miranda’s stomach dropped when she realized her girlfriend and child were going to the apartment. It became less acceptable each time they slept apart. “Miranda, would you please go and ask Cassidy if her homework is done?”

“Okay.”

Andrea looked at Miranda, understanding that Miranda had sent her daughter out of the room so they could have a quick conference. “I have clothes for both of you if you want to stay. I didn't want to say it in front of Miranda in case you really wanted to go. But you can stay if you would like.”

They had been so busy during the past week that this was the only time they had been able to spend together all week. Andy walked over to Miranda’s desk and put her arms around her love's neck. She pulled the older woman closer and whispered in her ear, “I’d like; I would really, really like.”

Miranda trembled, the promise dripping off the words reminding of just how long it had been since they had made love. She could hardly wait until the girls were asleep.

***

Bedtime for the girls couldn't come soon enough. By the time everyone was settled in, Andy was practically crawling out of her skin with want. While Miranda checked the girls' homework, Andy took a shower . She donned the nightwear Miranda had thought to provide. Grabbing her cell phone, she lay down on the bed and checked her email while she waited for her partner. Miranda came in soon after.

“You look lovely, darling. I knew that shade would suit you.” Andy batted her eyelashes seductively as Miranda approached the bed. “Though I am not sure why you bothered to put it on since I will be taking it right back off.”

Miranda removed her clothing as she sauntered across the room. By the time she was at Andy’s side, she was gloriously naked. She grabbed the hem of Andy’s nightgown and pulled it up without pause. Fortunately for the nightdress, Andy lifted her body so it would lift up easily. Andy had no doubt that Miranda would have ripped it off otherwise. She was clearly a woman on the edge and was not prepared to wait.

Andy pulled Miranda on top of her Her skin tingled as she held the other woman close to her body and wrapped her legs around Miranda's waist. Miranda took over and started to grind against Andy’s center as she nibbled on her neck. With one hand she reached down and squeezed Andy’s ass in consort with her movements. They frantically rubbed against each other until they crashed over the edge together. There was nothing slow or loving about this joining. It was raw and primal.

Miranda pushed up on her elbows and delivered a slow kiss. Once it broke, she looked into Andy's eyes and smiled. “Now that we have gotten that out of the way, let's start again. I am going to love you so well, so well.”

Andy gently scraped her fingernails up and down Miranda’s sides as she replied, “Only you would call having an explosive orgasm as getting something out of the way.”

“It has been so long, darling. It would have been frustrating to try and love you as slowly as I want to. Now the rushing is done.” She got up on her knees, straddling Andy’s hips. She pulled the younger woman’s arms above her head and reached over to her bedside table to grab a conveniently-stored scarf. “You are mine, Andrea Sachs.” Miranda leaned forward and tied Andy’s wrists with her scarf. “Okay?” she whispered, asking for permission.

Andy was so amazed by what was happening, she could only nod her head. After securing her wrists, Miranda used the ends of the scarf to attach the tied wrists to the headboard. Andy could feel that it would not be too hard to pull out of the scarf if she wanted to. But she knew she wouldn't.

Miranda rolled off Andy and lay on her side next to her. She gently began to stroke the sides of Andy’s breast. The pads of her fingers touched her skin as lightly as a whisper. Andy could not help but arch into the touch.

“Not enough, Miranda. Please, baby, don't tease me.”

Miranda kissed Andy again slowly and deeply, ratcheting up Andy's desire, before gently moving her hand down Andy's body, barely touching her, and playing lightly with the soft, curly hair between her legs. Andy moaned as Miranda slid her tongue down her torso as lightly as she was using her fingers, and using the very tip of it, she lapped at Andy’s nipple. It was a touch so light that Andy wouldn't have been sure it was occurring but for the hot breath that caressed her skin along with each lick.

Andy pushed her hips up, trying to force a firmer connection with Miranda’s hand. “Jesus, Miranda! Why are you punishing me? Please, baby, you’re killing me here.”

To Andy's relief, Miranda chuckled and licked the sensitive spot behind Andy’s ear whle adding a little pressure to the hand between her legs.

“You are so wet, my Andrea," she murmured as she rubbed her fingers in the wetness and spread the wetness on Andy’s breasts.

Andy squirmed in pleasure as Miranda sucked and licked Andy’s breasts in earnest, her palm rubbing against Andy’s clit in a maddening rhythm before she gently pushed two fingers inside of her. Andy bucked, not able to hold back any more. Miranda was playing her body perfectly, and Andy was quickly losing control.

“That's right, my Andrea.” Miranda’s voice was low and mesmerizing. “Tell me how it feels.”

Unable to respond, so lost in her physical responses, Andy whimpered when Miranda suddenly stopped all motion.“No, no, don't stop! So good, Miranda, so good,” Andy said desperately, needing Miranda to continue. Thankfully, Miranda’s hand began to move again, thrusting faster and deeper than she had before, and she sucked Andy's breast so hard, it made Andy gasp. It felt so good.

“It’s time, darling," Miranda cooed. “Come for me,” she urged. Andy could feel her inner walls clenching at Miranda's fingers, and she moaned loufly as she ground down with her palm and moved her mouth to Andy’s lips with a soul-searing kiss. The only things that kept Andy from screaming the house down as she fell over the edge were Miranda’s lips locked on to hers and Miranda’s tongue thrusting into her mouth.

Aftershocks shook Andy's body and tears escaped eyes as Miranda quickly untied her, a concerned look on her face. “Darling, I am sorry. Are you hurt? Did I hurt you?”

Once Andy had free use of her arms, she pulled Miranda into a crushing hug. Her body trembled as she sucked on the older woman’s neck. It took several minutes before her body calmed and she was able to pull away.

“That was, that was, my God, Miranda! I don't know what that was.”

Andy noticed how Miranda, clearly seemed afraid she had her in some way and quickly reached out. “I have never felt so turned on in my life. I thought I was going to fly out of my skin.” She delivered little kisses around Miranda's neck and shoulders as Miranda pulled her in tight and stroked her back gently. Sighing, Andrea fell into a deep sleep, the kind that could only be achieved when one was fully sated.

***

As Andy slept on her shoulder, Miranda thought about her conversation with Cassidy and Caroline. After she had checked on their homework, the girls asked her to sit down for a talk.

Caroline started. “We think it is silly that Andy and MC don't live with us.” The girls had decided that saying Andy and Mandy was too cutesy. They really didn't think they could handle calling the younger girl Miranda. Hence the new and final nickname for young Miranda was MC.

“Yeah,” followed Cassidy. “MC shouldn't be traipsing between homes. Little kids need stability, you know.”

“Thank you for that illuminating piece of information,” Miranda replied dryly.

“Really Mom, why haven't you asked them to move in?” Caroline asked.

Miranda thought carefully, not sure how to respond. “We have talked a little bit about it. But we both have our own home. Blending them would be a challenge. Andrea is trying, but she will always feel a little uncomfortable with the past that this house has and what is represents.”
Cassidy and Caroline looked at each other. Their ability to communicate without words was disconcerting to many people. Miranda barely noticed it anymore. She asked them about it once, and they told her it wasn't talking so much as just a feeling where they could tune in to each other to see if they agreed. After several moments, Caroline nodded, meaning Cassidy would voice what they wanted to say.

“Mom, we like this house, but we don't really have to live here. Why do they have to move in with us ? Why don't you find a new house, and we can start being a family there?” Cassidy stopped and waited for Miranda to answer.

Miranda looked over to Caroline and asked, “Do you feel the same?”

“Actually, Mom, maybe this house is a relationship jinx. I wouldn't risk another one here,” Caroline chimed in.

Miranda couldn't help but agree. Moving was a great idea.

“I will take your thoughts under consideration. I ask that you not bring this up with Andrea or Miranda until I have my own feelings worked out on it.” She started to get up but then sat back down. “Are you really okay with this, with Miranda? If we live together you will in effect have two mothers and a new sister.”

Again the girls studied each other quietly. This time Caroline got the nod. “You already know we get along. We are pretty much a family already.”

The twins looked at their mother with the same look they give each other. Miranda was shocked to be included in this communication. It was almost as if they were inviting her in;she could feel their energy.

The girls nodded to each other again, as if they had been probing Miranda for information and had gotten what they needed. Caroline took one of Miranda's hands in hers while Cassidy took the other.

Caroline spoke first. “Let it go, Mom. Dad, Stephen, and the press are part of our family history. They have been a part of our lives and not always a bad part.”

Cassidy piped up, “Well, the press always sucked, but we handled it. When they find out about the change in our family, they will suck again, and we will handle it again.”

Caroline took over. “MC will be lucky to have you as a Stepmom, and we like Andy. Just do it. Okay?”

Miranda nodded slowly and stood back up. “Okay, but give me a little more time," and shaking her finger at them she added, "and no betting!”

***

“Hi Randa,” Mandy called out in excitement as she ran into the office at Runway. “I’m here!”

“Well, thank you for announcing that, Miranda. I am sure I wouldn't have caught on by the great clomping of your feet as you came through the door.”

Mandy laughed and threw herself into her Randa’s arms. In her excitement Mandy did not notice that Randa was not alone. As Randa picked the child up for a hug, she made eye contact with Emily and Nigel.

Randa? Nigel mouthed at her. She rolled her eyes and gave a slight jerk of her head to send them out of her office.

“How did you get here, Dear Heart? I don't see your momma.”

“Roy brought me and walked me to the elevator. I came up the elevator by myself. Momma said I was big enough as long as Roy made sure I got in. And here I am.” The child was positively glowing.

“And here you are,” Randa replied, glowing right back.

Twenty minutes later they arrived at the work shop for Tosman Designs. It was hard for Mandy to control her excitement. When they saw the plans for the gown, Randa appeared enchanted by it. Mandy wasn't as impressed.

“Well, Miranda?” Randa asked. Mandy studied the sketch and the half-finished dress for a moment.

Mandy looked up at the designer. “Tell me about the dress, please. Why did you choose the colors and material?” He turned to look at Randa, thinking it was some kind of joke. Her expression belied that thought.

He started to speak to Randa, but she held up her hand to stop him. “Miranda asked you the question; please address your answer to her.”

“I see. You would like some lessons in fashion.” The next words out of his mouth sealed his fate. “Miranda has lovely pale skin. This material will shine against it. You can see that Miranda has a beautiful slim waist that will show off the lattice pattern of the bodice.”

Randa’s eyes narrowed, and her lips pursed as she took in Mandy’s smirk. She turned to the designer. “I will not wear this gown.”

The designer looked shocked. “I don't understand. This design will look beautiful on you.”

Mandy tugged on his shirt and he looked down at her. “I think you would like a lesson in fashion. The clothes should show the lady is beautiful. You got that backward." She giggled and took Randa's hand, practically pulling her out of the show room. “Come on, Randa. We have to go find you a new dress!”

As they were driving to the show, Randa explained to Mandy that Fredrico Santi was a designer that she had sponsored and showed a lot of promise. “I look forward to your insights, Miranda.”

“Momma said I should be really quiet so you can concentrate.”

Randa smiled at her.

“Well, I wouldn't like a lot of chatter, but you can ask questions and tell me your opinion on the clothes. Emily will meet us there and take notes for me.”

The designer had set up a private fashion show for them. Mandy was happy to find some snacks set up for her and a footstool in front of her chair so that her feet wouldn't dangle uncomfortably.

The show was going well until outfit number twelve. Mandy looked at Randa’s pursed lips and asked if the model could stop so she could look more closely. The young girl climbed right up onto the stage and walked around the woman twice.

“Randa?”

“Yes?”

“You don't like this because this stuff is showing, right?” Mandy pointed to the lining of the jacket that peaked out in several places.

“That is correct. But don't call it stuff. It is lining.” Miranda’s voice was clipped. She hated poor workmanship and the word stuff.

“Randa do you—”

The designer came quickly to Miranda’s side. “I am sorry, Miranda, that was not supposed to be shown. As you can see, it isn't ready.”

 “Excuse me, Fredrico. Are you usually so rude as to interrupt people who are speaking? Or is Miss Sachs a special exception?”

The designer looked over to the child and nodded his head. “I apologize Miss Sachs.”

Mandy smiled. “That's okay. Randa, if he didn't change the jacket but just changed the color of the lining, wouldn't it be kind of cool? It would be like the jacket was peeking at you.”

Randa walked over and twirled her fingers so the model would start from the beginning and come down the stage again. She studied the movement of the jacket as the model was walking.

“Do not change the lines of the jacket. I want it exactly as it is but with an azure blue lining and different fabric.” She grinned over at Mandy and continued. “Merimekko has a wonderful new fabric. It is black with a light silver stripe. Emily will give you my measurements. I will expect it on Tuesday.” She caught Fredreico’s eye and looked at him sternly. “One in blue, only one, ever.” He nodded. “Good, I do think red and emerald green would also work nicely. Have those ready for your next show.”

Randa held out her hand, and Mandy took it. “Well, that was a good day’s work, my darling.”

“I like fashion shows, Randa. Will you bring me again?”

Randa smiled down at Mandy. “Yes, Dear Heart, I think you should come to Fredrico’s next show. We will see how the changes work out.”

As the ladies got in the car Mandy asked, “Is the blue one for you? Is that why he can’t make anymore, so you are the only one who has it?”

“You really have to learn to ask one question at a time. My answers are yes and yes.”

“Do you have a special plan for it?”

Randa reached out and took Mandy by the chin and looked at her, nose to nose. “Yes, I do. I have decided to re-do my editor’s page in color.”

***

“Darling,” Miranda reached out and took her lover's hand. It was a rare morning for snuggling in bed. Caroline and Cassidy had taken Miranda out on a girls' morning to their favorite breakfast place before exploring the American Museum of Natural History on the Upper West Side. “I am thinking it is time.”

Andrea cocked her head. “Time for what?”

“I think it is time for us to be known as a couple.” She paused. When Andrea did not reply, Miranda continued. “I would rather control the great reveal rather than be blindsided by it.” She looked at Andrea rather nervously as she paused again.

Andrea shrugged. “I know I’m ready. Mandy and I have talked about what will happen, and she says she is okay with it.” Andrea squeezed Miranda’s hand. “So you think your empire is ready?”

“Well, as it is my empire, it is ready when I say it is.”

Andrea nodded, grinning. “So how do you want to do it? Press conference? Controlled leaks?”

“No,” Miranda said gently. “I want you with me at the Met.”

“Oh,” Andrea replied rather weakly. “So when you come down the stairs, I’ll meet you and…?”

“No.” She gave Andrea an intense, measured look. “I mean arrive together. You will descend the stairs beside me.”

“The stairs." Andrea's voice shook as she replied, “I…everybody will…the stairs?”

Miranda tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice. “So, you’re not ready. It can’t happen slowly. It will be big once it is out, whether it is on the stairs or through the press arriving on our doorstep due to a leak.”

“What? Wait! It’s not the attention that’s the problem,” Andrea blushed. “It’s the stairs. I’ll fall, Miranda. I know I will. The whole room will stop to look at you, and I will trip.” Andrea put her hand to her mouth. “Oh my God, I’ll trip.” Her eyes glazed over as if she was playing the scene in her mind like a movie.

“Darling,” Miranda replied, closing her eyes and shaking her head. “I won't let you fall.”

“Can’t you see it? I stumble, and you reach out to steady me. The next thing you know we are going down the stairs ass over tea kettle.”

Miranda was trying not to laugh at Andrea’s horror.

“Or worse I will grab you and we don't fall, but I rip your dress off.”

Miranda’s mouth began to twitch. Her lover's problems with balance when she was nervous was not a new topic.

“I can see the headlines now. Miranda Priestly steps out with a Justin Timberlake wannabe.”

Miranda could no longer hold it in and burst out laughing.

“Oh, sure laugh now. Tell me, what will you do when you are standing there in a ripped dress with all eyes on you?”

“No worries, darling. Donatella never goes anywhere without needle and thread.” When Andrea didn't laugh, Miranda sighed. “Fine. I will commission you a dress that will work with a low heel.”

Andrea snuggled back into Miranda’s arms. “That reminds me, who are you wearing now that Mandy convinced you to ditch Tosman?”

“I will be wearing a gown, not a who. I am meeting with Donetella today.” Miranda’s breath hitched as she felt Andrea’s hand start caressing her breast. “Do you have any ideas for what you want?”

“I have lots of ideas for what I want. And none of them have to do with clothes.” Andrea pushed Miranda over on to her back and rolled herself on top of her. She began to pepper her love's shoulders and neck with quick little kisses. “Mmm, I will leave the dressing to you.”

Miranda arched her back and moaned as Andrea kissed down her chest and mouthed her breasts. “All done talking now,” Andrea said while continuing further down Miranda’s body.

Other than a few words such as Yes, there, more and Oh, darling, Miranda complied.

 

***

Miranda smiled as she watched her lunch date cross the restaurant. Donatella Versace was one of the few people Miranda considered a friend. “Hello, darling; you look wonderful,” Miranda said as she kissed the designer on the cheek.

“Thank you, Miranda. You also look lovely.” The two women smiled as they took their seats. “I am curious as to why you were so adamant that we meet.” As Miranda scowled, Donatella quickly added, “I am happy to see you, of course. You just don't usually seem so insistent about meeting for lunch.”

“Yes, that's true,” Miranda conceded with a nod. “Let’s order first before we talk about it.” Both women were familiar with the menu, and ordering took no time at all. “I would like to ask you a favor.” Donatella looked at her with such wide eyes that Miranda had a hard time refraining from chuckling.

“Miranda, we have known each other for twenty years. In all that time you have never accepted a favor from me. I make you a dress, you insist on paying one way or another. You have never allowed me to give you a gift.”

Miranda rolled her eyes. “You know that is not the case. Designers send me things all of the time. You designed the dress for my birthday celebration and did not charge me for it.”

“Oh yes,” the lilt of her Italian accent was not diminished by the obvious sarcasm. “And the acclaim that I received when your editor’s letter talked about the joy of wearing my couture at your party did not help me at all. Was describing my dress in detail not a form of payment? Come, my friend, admit it. Everyone in the fashion industry owes you at least one favor, and you rarely call them in, almost never for yourself.” The blonde designer was practically wriggling in her seat, as if being asked for a favor was the most amazing compliment. “So what is it that I can do for you?”

Miranda pulled a piece of paper out of her Prada purse. She solemnly looked at her friend. "I need this dress.”

Donatella reached out and took the paper. She laughed. “Is this some kind of joke? It is a child’s drawing.”

 Miranda nodded with a crooked smile on her face. "Study the drawing. I need you to find a way to make a dress that the artist will recognize as her own. It needs to be ready for the Met in two months.” She waited for a response.

“I thought that my English was well-learned. But I am sure I have misunderstand. You want me to use a picture, clearly drawn by a seven-year-old child, to create the dress you will wear for your premier event?”

“No, I want you to make a dress designed by a just turned five-year-old child to wear at Runway’s premier event.”

“It is in crayon. You bring me a fashion design in crayon?” her voice rose to the tone that was the mark of a temperamental artist.

“No,” Miranda answered, amused. She pointed to the picture. “She used glitter, too. See, my hair is sparkly. And the eyes are created with little blue sequins.” How she was able to make these comments with a straight face, Miranda was not sure. The look on her friend’s face was absolutely comical.

“Ah yes, I see.” the designer agreed caustically. “That really does make all the difference.”

“Tella.” Miranda tried to soften her next words by starting with her friend’s nickname, something that she almost never did. “This is the dress I will wear at the Met. If you do not do it, someone else will. If I have to call in every favor that you say I am owed, I will wear this dress at the Met.”

Donatella nodded in understanding. There was a bit of an edge to her voice as she replied, “And your young designer, her name will be on it? I will be her seamstress?”

Miranda reached across the table and placed her hand over her friend’s in a placating gesture. “You know the dress will be more yours then hers. She has picked the colors, but you will pick the fabric and the shades. She has drawn the basic frame, but I need you to make it solid.”

“Lilac, you will let her dress you in lilac. I have asked you many times to no avail, and yet you acquiesce to this child.” Miranda could hear her tone trying to be amicable not resentful, but the designer couldn't quite pull it off. It was clear Donatella was offended by this request.“You will tell me why this is important, and I will decide.”

Miranda closed her eyes and thought carefully about her answer. She was never one to share her innermost feelings with anyone outside of her family. But she knew what was required to get her needs met. “I am in love and have never before felt what I am feeling.” A rare sweet smile erupted onto Miranda’s face as she continued. "This will be the gesture that shows my commitment and devotion. I need to prove I will take risks to make her and her child a permanent part of my life. When I wear this dress, I will offer and ask for a commitment from her .” Miranda chuckled. “What bigger risk can I take than wearing a dress designed by a five-year-old child?”

The Italian shook her head and rolled her eyes. “There is no risk when you bring this to me. It will be beautiful, as you know.” Then her head snapped back as she seemed to realize what was just revealed. “A woman? You are seeing a woman?”

Miranda straightened her back as her face hardened in defense. Lifting her chin up in challenge, she said stiffly, “Yes, a woman.”

“About time,” Donatella said as she smiled and rubbed her hands together with glee. Miranda was surprised and relieved when the designer did not say anything more about her revelation.

Their conversation paused as the waiter delivered their food. The designer focused on the drawing as if Miranda had not just said something extraordinary. “She wants the skirt black?”

“No, actually her exact words were purply-black with a bit of sparkliness so that you think that it is black but it isn’t.” Miranda pointed to the slit on the side. “She said that this is not exactly a slit. It is, and I quote, a folded up silvery triangle that looks like a cut but isn’t.”

Donatella rose her eyebrows as she looked up. “Does the child add -ly on to everything or just to things relating to fashion?”

Miranda laughed and pointed to the upper front of the dress. It was lilac crossing her breast in both directions. “Please do this in a way that does not make me look like the crossing guard from Oz.”

Donatella threw her head back as she emitted a throaty chuckle. The knot in Miranda’s chest loosened as she realized her friend was becoming excited by the challenge rather than offended.

“So whose name will join mine on the dress? Who is the hot new designer that you have brought to the house of Versace?”

Miranda laughed. “Well, this is a conundrum. Her last name probably won't work. I don't think you will want Versace-Sachs! Her middle name is Chanel, so that isn't ideal, either.” The editor blushed as she revealed, “Her first name is Miranda. Most people call her Mandy.”

“I see,” Donatella said as she closed her eyes in thought. “The Miranda CS collection from Versace will be the title.”

“Collection, you will call one dress a collection?”

Donatella gave a shrug that only a European could do perfectly. “She is five,” she replied smugly, as if that explained everything.

After a moment's thought, Miranda had to agree. It was the perfect reason.

“I will also need a gown for her mother.”


Donatella sighed and held out her hand. Miranda’s forehead creased in question. “What?” she asked.

The designer grumbled sarcastically, “Don’t you have another picture. Maybe a three-year-old brother who would like his own collection?”

Miranda grinned. “No, Tella, and it has to be perfect. We are…” she paused while looking for the right word then shrugged. “We are coming out, so to speak. She will accompany me on the stairs.” The designer's eyebrows nearly climbed off her head. “Don’t get all cutesy and make us match. Just make sure we don't clash.” Donatella nodded her understanding. “And no lilac! If I have to wear the color, I don't want to have to look at it as well!”

At that Donatella laughed uproariously, tears running down her face. “You really are in love. My God, the job you are giving me.”

Miranda replied in her fashion maven tone. “Yes, yes, we have established that.” Then she said with a dismissive wave of her hand, “It needs to work in flats or a low, wide heel. She can be clumsy.” She ignored Donatella as she began laughing all over again.

***

Cassidy and Caroline decided to prepare their little sister for what was to come. They had created a new habit of taking her out to breakfast or lunch at least once a week. Their mother never said anything about it. They did, however, often find little presents the next day. Not as payment, just a way that their mother acknowledged her appreciation for their acceptance of the child and the time she was left alone with Andy.

Caroline started the conversation. “Hey, you know our moms are going to the Met ball this weekend, right?" MC nodded. "When we were five we used to go over early with our nanny and see Mom’s gown after she got dressed. She uses an office there so her dress won’t wrinkle in the car.”

“What is really cool is to hide up by the railing and watch when Mom goes down the stairs." Cassidy continued. “Everybody stops what they are doing and watches her like she is Queen of the Universe.”

“Yeah,” Caroline agreed." Then we would stay a little longer and just look at all the people and their clothes. We did it every year for a long time.”

“Do you think Randa will let me?” The girls could tell MC was very excited by the idea.

“I think so; we could go with you and tell you who all the important people are. You have to remember that as soon as she puts her dress on, she is Runway Randa.” The girls shared a look of amusement at the nomenclature. "You can’t hug or kiss her. She can’t be wrinkled or have her makeup smudged.” MC nodded very solemnly. Then Caroline looked over at her sister for a quick twin conference. She nodded to her sister.

Cassidy started on the next topic. “You know our moms are girlfriends, right?”

MC rolled her eyes. “We talked about that a long time ago.”

“Good” Cassidy replied. “And you know that our moms are pretty famous, at least in New York?”

MC seemed to realize that Cassidy was building up to something important, and she said yes quietly.

“At the big ball, at the Met this weekend, they are going to let everyone know they are together.”

“Okay, that's good, right? Now it won't be a secret.”

Caroline jumped in here. “Well, it is good that the secret will be over. But a lot of people will be surprised and want to know more about it. Some people will be very nosy and will ask a lot questions.” MC nodded her understanding.

Cassidy continued. By now MC was used to them switching back and forth.
“There will be people taking pictures and trying to get you to do or say something that they can put in the newspapers.”

Caroline added, “They will say mean things about your momma. They will say things that are not true.”

Now MC was getting a little nervous. “What do I do? Should I tell them they are liars?”

Caroline laughed. “No, you never, ever say anything. You just ignore them. We are going to go buy us some cool sunglasses so that if they are taking pictures at night, the flash won't hurt your eyes.”

“Sometimes they might say something mean and try to make you cry. If we have the sunglasses on, they won't see if you do.” Cassidy said. “Don’t be scared. If they get too close, just hang on to us or our moms.”

MC was clearly nervous. She got up and walked over to the space between the two girls. “You’ll watch me?”

Caroline put her arm around her waist and Cassidy took her hand.

“We are a family now; of course we will.” Caroline gave her a side arm-hug as she said it.

“We won't let anyone hurt our little sister.” Cassidy gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “And wait until you see Mom. She gives them the Miranda Glare. I bet they have to wear diapers so it doesn't show when she makes them wet their pants!” They all giggled at the thought.

“So when they go down the stairs together at the party, it will be a really big deal, okay?”

MC smiled. “Yup, and you’ll be with me."

After breakfast the three sisters went shopping. They came back with several pair of s sunglasses each.

***

When her girls walked in to the townhouse wearing their new shades, Miranda knew immediately what they had been talking about. A new press onslaught always meant new eyewear. She felt a little guilty that the girls felt the need to take care of that lesson but grateful that she hadn’t had to. She even felt a little bit nostalgic about the sunglass shopping.

“Randa,” Miranda shouted as she ran in to the room. “Look! We got pesky press sunglasses. Aren't they cool?” The editor could see Miranda was in hyperdrive from her exciting time with the girls.

“My goodness, yes. Those are fine glasses. There will be no pesky press problems with those to protect you.”

The older girls groaned at the alliteration. Miranda grinned at them, hoping they could see how pleased she was with their actions. Cassidy nodded back her understanding.

Miranda was hopping up and down with excitement. “Cassidy and Caroline said that we are sisters, and they will take care of me!”

“Of course you are, Dear Heart. I know they will.”

“And we want to go to the Met and watch you and Momma in your dresses just like they did when they were five!”

Miranda shook her head, suddenly feeling a bit overwhelmed. “Well, you'd better bring your glasses. It is going to be quite the event.” She took a deep breath and sent an affectionate glare to the older girls. “We will have to ask your momma for final approval. It is a very late night.”

Of course Andrea did give her approval, and the stage was set for the big reveal.

***

Miranda had been to Andrea’s final fitting, so her dress was not a surprise. It was a long black gown off one shoulder with silver highlights. Miranda had smiled when she had seen the slit on the side, which was not a silt but a "folded up silver triangle." It was the only part of the two dresses which were the same. It was just enough to send the message that they were together, but it did not look like they were trying to match. She looked lovely, and Miranda enjoyed that for tonight she would be the taller woman.

Miranda took a deep breath as she prepared to enter the room where her family was waiting. Her dress was an amazing combination of sex and class. She was sure it was the most amazing dress she would ever wear. Donatella had taken Miranda’s concept and made it pure Versace. She couldn't decide if it looked exactly like the drawing or nothing like it. She would know in a minute. Her hand shook on the knob as she reached out to open the door. Andrea saw her first. It was clear her lover was entranced by the vision that was Miranda. Their eyes locked and there was pure lust in Andrea’s eyes. Her gasp had called everyone else's attention to Miranda’s entrance.

Little Miranda squealed. "My picture! Randa, you are wearing the dress from my picture!”

The knots in Miranda’s stomach loosened immediately. Fortunately, the twins had the presence of mind to grab the young artist’s hands before she took off across the room. She only pulled for a second before stopping when Cassidy reminded her, “What did we tell you?”

The child huffed and said, “Don’t rumple Runway Randa.” Everyone laughed. The spell was broken.

“Mom, you look absolutely amazing.” Cassidy gushed.

Caroline smirked. “I always thought you would look good in lilac.” She was fully aware of her mother's feelings about the color.

Andrea remained speechless, but obvious in her admiration. Miranda looked over at the child she had begun to think of as a daughter. “Miranda, come here.”

The child walked over slowly, clearly restraining herself from launching at her. There was enough give in the dress so Miranda could squat down to the child’s level. “I love this dress, and I love you. Do you see the necklace I am wearing?”

Miranda nodded and said, “Yes.”

“It was a gift from Cassidy.” It wasn't really anything special. A plain silver chain that seemed to belong with the dress. Miranda had shown Donatella her accessories before the dress was made. “Look at my bracelet; it was a gift from Caroline.” Again, it was nothing special from a fashion prospective,but perfect for the dress. “And as you know this dress is a gift from you. When your mom and I walk down the stairs tonight, it doesn't matter what anyone thinks. I am going to have my whole family with me. I will be with the four people I love most in the world, and that is all that matters.”

“I love you, too, Randa,” the child said.

“I didn't put my lipstick on yet just so I can thank my girls.” Miranda leaned in and kissed the child on the cheek. Then she held out her hands to the twins who each took one and leaned in for kisses of their own. “All right girls; get in position. We are hitting the stairs in five.”

As the girls left, Miranda walked over to Andrea. She took her hand and waited to hear what she had to say.

“You are wearing a dress designed by my five year-old child.” She shook her head, tears in her eyes. “You let her dress you in lilac.” She gave a little hiccuping laugh. “I can’t imagine a more dramatic declaration of your feelings for her.”

Miranda reached in to a hidden pocket of her gown. She pulled out a key with a ribbon on it and handed it to Andrea.

“What is this? I already have a key to your house.”

Miranda smiled gently and said, “Look closely.” She watched as Andy realized it was a blank key. The younger woman cocked an eyebrow and waited. “I was thinking we—you, the girls, and I—could find a place that was worth cutting this key for. Do you think we can?”

“Oh, my God, yes!” Andrea's bottom lips quivered. "Yes, yes, yes."

Miranda walked over to a desk in the corner and pulled out a corsage. Once again she had told Donetella what she would have so that the dress could carry it off. As she attached it to her love, Andrea looked up in shock.

“Freesias, you are decorating me with Freesias?”

“Yes, it is my favorite flower.”

Andrea stared at Miranda with an amazed look on her face. “I spent months running around making sure there was never a freesia in sight, and now you tell me it is your favorite? You really have got to explain that one.”

“Some things are just too special, too wonderful to be treated lightly. Some things only belong in view during the rarest moments. The only thing more precious then a favorite flower is love. I will only tolerate freesias at the most special of times. This is the only time which I have felt to be special enough.”

“I can't believe you did all of this, and I can’t even hug you.”

Miranda replied with a wolfish smile. “Ah, but as the girls are going home and we have a hotel suite, I am sure the anticipation will be worth it.”

Andrea’s face made her displeasure at the wait obvious, but no more so then her next words. “Miranda Freesia Priestly, I have finally found the perfect name.”

“Sorry, darling. I have decided that a middle name is not going to be required.”

Andrea laughed. “Too afraid of my answer?”

Miranda smiled and leaned in gently. She didn't have any lipstick on yet after all. She gently kissed her love's cheek and whispered in her ear, “No, but if at some point we change it to Miranda Priestly-Sachs, a middle name would make it just too long.”

Andrea stared at her in amazement. “You would change your name for me? You never changed it before.”

Miranda kissed her again. “I would change the world for you, and I have never done that before either.”

Andrea’s stunned expression garnered her another kiss. Ater applying her lipstick, Miranda held out her hand and said, “Come along, darling. First the ball room, then the world.”

After sharing a smile they left to face their destiny, hand in hand.