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"Anyways, the shoots for December's catalo-" Nigel stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed Andy was no longer listening. Instead, her distracted eyes zeroed in on her boss, standing no less than six feet away from them while speaking to Jocelyn. "Hey, Six!"

"Mpf- wha-? What?" Andy looked up, nearly startled out of her heels. "Sorry," There was no excuse in the world that she could come up with. She was sufficiently buzzed from the Mojito she had been sipping. It was a little office personnel gathering at the St. Regis, celebrating the beginning of New York Fashion Week which begun in a few days. Co Workers were gathered around, sipping whatever fruity drink they had planned to numb the exhaustion with. 

"Andy Sachs, you are ogling Miranda like a horny school girl!" Nigel spoke a little too loudly, earning a petrified look from the assistant.

"Nigel! Shush!" Andy hissed, fearing someone might hear them. He was a chatty, no filtered kind of drunk and quite frankly, it wasn't pleasant. After a few more moments of making sure nobody heard him, Andy sighed. "She's pretty,"

Giving her the most incredulous look he could muster up, Nigel replied, still rather loudly. "Are you stupid, dumb, or just plain old fashioned retar—?" 

Andy gasped at his language, cutting him off. "Nigel! People don't like it when you say those things!" she scolded with a cold look in her eyes, clearly earning no remorse. "But I mean, look at her. She's stunning." Andy slapped her hand down at her side with a frown.

Glancing at Miranda, then back to Andy, he nodded. "Agreed, I do love a good Balenciaga jacket. And she sure does pull it off. But you still haven't answered my question." attempting to give her a pointed look, he only further proved Andy's mental point that he couldn't handle his liquor

"What question did you even ask?" Andy glared, sounding mock outraged towards him. "You just accused me of being dumb... that wasn't a question." At this point, Andy couldn't care less if anybody overheard. All they would hear was that Nigel was a borderline mean drunk. Maybe the bartender would overhear and stop drowning him in vodka martinis. 

"What are you doing with your eyes peeled on your boss? Not just your boss, our boss." Nigel questioned, a sly and dangerous look on his face. 

"I don't know..." Andy sighed with defeat, staring down at the mint leaf in her drink as she tried to avoid Nigel's eyes. She didn't know why she had found herself staring at Miranda more and more lately. She certainly hadn't done it on purpose, or even expected herself to do so. I mean, most of her life had been circulated with short term guy crushes. Then there was Nate, and everybody knew how that ended. Miranda was the only person who had truly caught her eye, while also having the ability to make Andy question her sexuality... and fuck it, question the whole world at this point.

 But, why her? Why did it have to be Miranda? Out of all people Andy could develop an impossible unrequited crush on, it had to be on the person who was furthest out of her range. Her parents had always called her an overachiever, guess they were right. In her entire 25 years of life, Andy had never questioned that she was straight, why did that have to change now?

"Well, clutch my pearls!" Nigel exasperated, surprisingly able to make the 'doubting sexuality' connection in his intoxicated mind. "Welcome to the club! But I must say, that is one thing I didn't know about you." 

"Hey!" Andy pouted "That's one thing I don't know about myself so you can't know that about myself until I know that about myself." Maybe she was worse than Nigel, because even she couldn't process what she had just said. 

"Your drunken logic is almost as appalling as that skirt you wore on your first day." to add insult to injury, he fake gagged as she rolled her eyes.

"Why are we even talking about this? Whatever this is, wouldn't happen in a million years and Hell would have to freeze over first." Andy punctuated her sentence with an annoyed slurp through her straw. At this point, she couldn't even feel humiliated. Hopefully, Nigel would forget that they had even talked about this. But then they'd probably have to have this talk all over again. 

"I don't know, Andy. Rumor has it that she and her female roommate at college had a thing. Maybe Hell has been a little chilly lately." he smiled coyly, watching her face shift from irritation to utter shock. 

"Where did you hear that?" Andy's eyes nearly bugged out of her head. 

"Don't ask, don't tell. But my point is, you've been known to make the impossible happen." That was true. J.K. Rowling could prove that after the manuscript dilemma. "Maybe once you climb the ladder of success and you're the 'Miranda' of.. I don't know, The Post, you'll be in her ballpark." 

Andy granted herself a moment to glare at him. How many brain-cells did he have left? Not enough to produce a coherent sentence. "Compared to this, I've had more realistic conversations with a Magic 8 Ball. You don't make sense when you're drunk. And also, I could be God herself and Miranda wouldn't even notice me. Do you not realize that?"

"Listen up, Six. You know that 'heart stuff' and 'feelings' aren't really my forte, but as for my drunken personality which I've named Toby, it is. Toby is out to play and he wants you to realize that there are perks here." Andy was completely lost by now. "You aren't some clacker who wants to work under Miranda for the rest of her life. You have motivation to be someone who is on a similar level. That gives you some advance... to get into her pants." 

"You make no sense," Andy smirked "and now you're rhyming. I'm leaving."

"Should I go into the rap industry?" Nigel muttered to himself while Andy went off to chat with whoever was at least halfway sober. 

A few minutes after Andy had tried to forget the meaningless chatter with Nigel, she found herself face to face with Miranda just as she had spun on her heel. 

"Interesting conversation with Nigel." Miranda spoke with a shit-eating grin that was lined with Chanel lipstick. Andy felt her heart plummet into her stomach and she was almost certain she was going to be sick. 

"H-how much of it did you hear?" Andy asked, her voice as small as she felt under Miranda's confusing expression. She didn't look mad, she didn't look happy, she never looked happy. She looked... amused? She would just have to add that to the tab of things that humiliated her. 

"More than you wanted me to, more than I needed to." Miranda replied, a silent chuckle leaving her lips. Andy could hear her heart banging through her ears as all of the blood left her head. This was it. This was the face of being blacklisted. She'd have to quit her job, change her name, move away. Hell, was TV Guide accepting applications? 

"Miranda I-" Andy tried to speak but she was instantly cut off. 

"Why don't we have a discussion about it." Miranda suggested. "Not here though. The townhouse." she raised her eyebrows as she always did while waiting for an answer. All Andy could do was emit the tiniest of pathetic squeaks before nodding. 

While they wandered towards the exit, Miranda flashed a quick look towards a very sober, very aware Nigel who wore a smug grin on his face. "Thank you," Miranda mouthed silently to him, earning a wink just as she turned away.

See that's the thing, water is almost identical to vodka... and he was a great actor. But he was an even better wingman.