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Andy Sachs didn't hate going to work so much now that her job didn't include fetching coffee and running errands. Of course being (first) assistant to Miranda Priestly was far from glamorous and farther from her career aspirations, but at least she was making her way up the ladder and toward her goals, slowly but surely.

A year had finally passed and she'd survived. Emily had been promoted to the beauty department, which had granted Andy her first promotion and also the task of replacing herself. And three new "Emilys" later, Miranda finally seemed to be content with her second assistant, currently completing her first month on the job. She hadn't yet started calling her by her name, but Andy had been oddly satisfied to realize she was the one and only "Andrea."

Standing in front of her closet mirror, she ran her hands over the delicate, maroon lace of her bra (which matched her panties) and sighed contentedly. She had to admit--she looked hot. Which was, no doubt, mainly thanks to her new lingerie (the Balenciaga pencil skirt didn't hurt either). She was still a big believer in feeling comfortable in her ratty clothes, but even she could admit that a House of Hanes bra didn't have quite the same effect on her body.

After spending a good two minutes appreciating her alluring form, she slid into a white button-down blouse, leaving just the one extra button undone. She didn't sport too much cleavage as to not be inappropriate at her workplace, but after all, it was Runway and it would be a shame to let the new lingerie go to waste when others could appreciate the hint of a view as well.

Of course, by the time she arrived at work, there was no time to concern herself with such mundane things. Miranda was seething--in her own quiet, cool, and absolutely terrifying (even now) way--at a Central Park photoshoot getting delayed and almost ruined due to unpredictable rain.

The delay would, of course, cost them, which meant that Miranda would have to endure Irv's wrath, which meant that the best course of action for Andy was to stay out of Miranda's hair as much as possible and do everything she asked to perfection. Not an easy feat, but by now Andy pretty much had it down pat.

It also helped that Miranda didn't seem inclined to endure Andy's company too much today and delegated to "Emily," AKA Jessica, as much as her competence would allow. Andy tried not to read too much into Miranda's behavior, since trying to figure out every one of her moods could drive one insane.

By noon, though, things had calmed down considerably, the photoshoot had resumed, and the day proceeded to progress as smoothly as a Runway work day could. Miranda also spent much of the day in meetings outside of the office, so the relative quiet helped Andy get through her tasks with ease and calmed poor Jessica's raw nerves.

All in all, Andy had had much worse days at Runway. She was relieved, however, to finally get home at the end of the day and change into the navy, oversized T-shirt that served as her pajamas. Beautiful lingerie and couture aside, it was nice to be ugly in peace.

Finding her fridge practically empty, she treated herself to Chinese and crashed in front of the TV, half-paying mind to some home design show.

Moments like this made her almost miss Nate, who would cook for her and spend the night exchanging stories from their day. But Nate was gone and good riddance. It had taken her a while to come to terms with their breakup, but time had made her realize that she was better off without him and his inability to accept her growth and development. Besides, by the end of their relationship, conversation had been scarce. He'd no longer been interested in hearing about her job and Andy hadn't felt like sharing.

She was just getting into bed, praising herself on managing to turn in early for a change, when there was a knock on the door. She briefly considered ignoring it until the person on the other side assumed she was asleep or not home and left, but the knocking became persistent, and with a grumble, she shuffled toward the door. Peeking through the peephole, her eyes widened.

Sure enough, when she opened the door, Miranda Priestly was standing on the other side in all her glory. Well, Andy could just make out the exhaustion from a hectic day on her face and her iconic coiffure was not as coiffed as it had been when she last saw her, but she was radiant all the same.

"H-hey," Andy stammered, baffled. "What are you doing here?"

In lieu of a response, Miranda brushed past her, striding into the small apartment and tossing her handbag on the kitchen table. Her heavy coat was the next to go, landing on top of the bag. She'd changed out of the dress she'd worn to work and was wearing, instead, a sharp blouse and skirt ensemble, and Andy remembered she'd had a dinner with Irv and the shareholders on her schedule.

She still hadn't said a word in the few seconds it had taken her to enter the apartment and discard her belongings, and Andy was growing concerned. "Miranda?"

But before she had a chance to say anything else, her back was pushed against the door, closing it in the process, and her lips were taken in a kiss that stole the air from her lungs.

As the moments passed and the kiss became less rough and more languid, Andy allowed herself to wrap her arms around Miranda's back and melt into the embrace. With Miranda wearing heels and herself being barefoot, they were the same height and she could feel Miranda's pelvic bone thrusting into hers and pushing her further against the door, making her moan.

When the need for air became too great, they broke apart, only for Miranda to latch onto her neck right away and suck. In the back of her mind, Andy was going through her scarf collection, wondering which one she should wear tomorrow.

"I've been wanting to do this all day," Miranda murmured against her ear before taking the lobe between her teeth.

Andy definitely wasn't about to object. Or disagree. The twins were spending the night at a sleepover, which would have been the perfect opportunity for them to have the townhouse all to themselves, but Miranda had had the dinner, which, no doubt, would have rendered her too tired and agitated. In fact--

"Aren't you tired... after your dinner?" It was getting challenging to get the words out, her breath growing labored with Miranda's perfect ministrations on her ear.

"I am," Miranda replied, moving back down to Andy's neck and biting. Andy stifled a yelp but couldn't help the shiver that ran through her body. "But you have been teasing me all day... distracting me."

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Andy, knowing exactly what she was talking about.

In response, Miranda's hand traveled up her thigh, dragging the T-shirt up along the way, and Andy bit her lip in anticipation. Okay, so she may have leaned over once or twice in front of Miranda, but just so she could see that her investment was paying off.

When Miranda's fingers made contact with her black, cotton panties, she growled. "I changed out of them," Andy explained. What had Miranda expected, that she'd shower and put the same pair of underwear back on? Especially when she hadn't been expecting company? Besides--

"I don't make it a habit of sleeping in hundreds of dollars worth of underwear," she said, knowing that Miranda absolutely did.

"Too bad," Miranda said before kissing her again and promptly slipping her tongue into Andy's mouth. Andy moaned again, but this kiss ended far too soon to her liking, with Miranda tugging on her panties' waistband with her fingers and on her lower lip with her teeth. Whew, she really was worked up tonight. Andy was getting wet just at the thought.

"In the future, when I gift you lingerie, I expect to be the only one allowed to see it," Miranda drawled in her low, dangerous, and deliciously sexy voice before cupping Andy's ass and squeezing roughly. "Is that clear?"

"Crystal," Andy breathed, and with that pushed her into the bedroom.

Miranda landed on the bed, square on her back, and for once she didn't offer one of her disdainful looks. Andy often received them when they hung out at her apartment--if she was lucky. If she wasn't, they were accompanied by comments about the small and creaky bed (it was a perfectly normal size, thank you very much, unlike Miranda's ridicoulously large one), the state of cleanliness (maybe when Andy was at Miranda's pay grade, she could afford to hire help, but for now she could only do so much with her limited free time and energy), and the size of her apartment, which, in all fairness, was probably smaller than Miranda's bedroom closet. Due to all those reasons and more, they usually spent their time together at the townhouse when the twins weren't around or after they'd gone to bed. (Even they didn't know about them yet. Nobody but Andy and Miranda did.)

But tonight they were at Andy's and Miranda had made the conscious decision to come there and if she didn't like it, well, tough shit, because Andy wasn't going anywhere tonight. But Miranda didn't make a face and didn't open her mouth to complain. She was focused completely on Andy, who climbed on top of her and straddled her hips, her shirt riding up her thighs in the process.

"So, you've been wanting this?" she asked casually as she started to unbutton Miranda's blouse in a pace she knew would drive Miranda crazy. Miranda's pupils dilated as she looked up at her and her hands gained purchase on her hips. "All day?"

"Yes," she replied huskily, her hands rubbing up and down Andy's ribs. Then, obviously tired of Andy's taking charge, she dug her fingers harder into her sides and easily flipped them, settling between Andy's legs.

"Now," she cooed, and that predatory hint had returned to her voice, as well as her eyes. She shifted until she was comfortable, opening Andy's legs wider and baring her teeth in a savage smile when Andy wrapped one around her waist. "Now, then."

Then she set to work. Nudging Andy's hair aside, she returned her lips to her neck, licking and nipping until Andy was mewling in pleasure and grinding against her body, wanting more.

However, Miranda, who had stormed into her apartment only minutes before and kissed her like her life depended on it, now seemed content to take things slowly.

"Mmm..." she groaned against Andy's neck, the vibrations making her shudder. "You smell good." She nipped gently at the tender skin, then soothed it with her tongue. "Taste good. Is that the lotion I gave you?"

"Mhm." Andy nodded and rubbed her shin against Miranda's calf. "Feel how smooth I am."

She felt a gush of warm air against her neck before Miranda grabbed her leg and moved back, sitting up on her knees. "Hopefully not all of you," she said in a voice that made Andy's head swim and her panties grow damper. Her lips curled up in a dangerous smile and she ran her hands up and down Andy's thighs. For all intents and purposes, she looked like an animal about to feast on its prey. Andy shivered with excitement.

"Let's get this off, shall we?" she said, dragging Andy's T-shirt up her torso until Andy raised her arms above her head to help remove it. Then her breasts were bare for Miranda's eyes and mouth to devour.

Hands once again on her hips, Miranda tugged, pulling her closer across the mattress, and Andy grasped the pillow behind her head, bracing herself for Miranda's delicious assault.

Two months ago, Andy wouldn't have believed that Miranda's mouth was capable of anything but delivering acerbic remarks, but since then she'd been proven oh, so wrong.

Miranda's lips were soft as they closed around her nipple and her tongue was warm and wet and heavenly and Andy instinctively arched her back, trying to push more of her breast into her mouth.

When Miranda hummed around her nipple, a tingle surged through her body and settled between her thighs and she squirmed restlessly, desperate for some friction. But Miranda was busy alternating between sucking and biting while manipulating the other nipple with her fingers until both peaks were taut and hard and Andy was just about ready to scream from frustration.

Instead, she ran her fingers through Miranda's soft, white hair, urging her, and was rewarded with a final kiss to her nipple before she switched sides. Andy had a feeling that if anyone else dared to touch Miranda's well-maintained hair, it would be their life, which only made her feel more special as she gently tugged and massaged, relishing Miranda's hums and sighs of approval.

Especially when they were emitted against her breast, the vibrations tightening the knot in her stomach. "So good," she encouraged in a breathy whisper, pulling on the greyer strands of hair at the nape of Miranda's neck and arching further into her mouth. "More..."

And Miranda, ever the enthusiastic pleaser (and what a revelation that had been when they'd just started sleeping together), released her nipple with a wet pop and propped herself up with her arms on either side of Andy's body.

Then she just looked at Andy, studying her face like she would a Runway page's layout, before finally smiling that devilish smile again that told Andy she was in the best kind of trouble, and lowering her head for a thorough kiss.

Andy wrapped her arms around her neck and moaned at the sensations her tongue was creating in her mouth. Nobody had ever made her feel the way Miranda did--not that she'd been with so many lovers. But the best part was that she was pretty sure Miranda had never enjoyed sex quite as much as she did with her--and she'd been married twice.

It gave her a fluttery feeling in her stomach--that, for once, had nothing to do with sex--to know she had that kind of effect on the snow queen herself. And, really, that moniker was so inaccurate. Miranda was anything but cold in the bedroom.

The first time they'd done it, Andy had indeed expected her to be technical and, well, frigid. She'd been pleasantly surprised. Miranda had turned out to be the most attentive lover she had ever had, cherishing and savoring every inch of Andy's body and treating her as if she was more precious than all the couture in her closet combined. That had been the first time Andy had ever had three orgasms in one night and Miranda had been pretty damn pleased with herself until Andy had fucked the smug smile right off her face.

And, as time passed, Miranda had taken the time to study Andy's body thoroughly and put her newly acquired knowledge to the test. Two months in and she could play Andy's body like a pro, paying attention to sounds that told her what felt good and what felt better and being familiar with erogenous zones that even Andy hadn't known existed.

She was putting her knowledge to use tonight, releasing Andy's kiss-swollen lips and slithering down her body, kissing random pieces of skin on her journey, until she was level with her crotch. Lifting her hips to help her, Andy watched as she heedlessly removed her panties and tossed them somewhere in the room, clearly ready to get to the main course, so to speak.

The first swipe of her tongue along the full length of Andy's slit had Andy bucking against her face. That part always came as a surprise--Miranda being so fucking good at pleasuring women--even though they'd been at it for a while now.

Andy had taken to bisexual life quite easily. Not a big, dramatic revelation for her, but she guessed Miranda's case was different. After all, it had taken her five decades to realize she was a lesbian, and though she hadn't shared much of the emotional turmoil with Andy (it was still difficult to get her to talk about intimate subjects), Andy guessed the transformation hadn't been as smooth for her.

Nevertheless, from the very first time they'd been together, Miranda had been able to rock her world with no more than her mouth and fingers (and the occasional toy), which, come to think of it, made sense since Miranda excelled at everything she set her mind to. So, yeah, Andy would say that Miranda was taking to lesbian life pretty well, too.

Especially in that moment, as she wrapped her lips around Andy's clit and sucked, erasing any thoughts Andy had beyond the sweet, wet heat between her legs.

When two fingers entered her and Miranda's tongue began to draw lazy circles around her clit, Andy threw her head back with a groan, her legs involuntarily opening wider. A hand grasped her hip and pulled her closer and she, in turn, began rocking with the movement of the fingers, trying to draw them deeper inside.

But Miranda, Queen of Impatience, suddenly seemed intent on taking her sweet ass time and moving her fingers in a leisurely pace until Andy was a squirming, whimpering mess. Her hips were moving against Miranda's mouth helplessly, chasing the release lurking just out of reach, and just when she was about ready to grab Miranda's hair and scream at her to fuck her, Miranda ever graciously pressed her tongue to her clit and curled her fingers inside her, finding that rough spot and pushing.

Andy's neck elongated until it hurt and a choked groan left her throat, and then Miranda started thrusting in earnest, ending each inward stroke with a rub to her G-spot and licking her clit directly, and all Andy could think about was the unbearable pleasure and never, ever, ever wanting it to end and--

When she came, she was too breathless to even make a sound, but her body shook and spasmed and her back had arched completely off the bed, and in the back of her mind she was semi-aware of Miranda still fucking her, helping her ride out her orgasm until it all became too much, too much and she wriggled away, whimpering through her nose.

She hadn't realized her eyes were squeezed shut until she felt the bed dip beside her and then a mouth kissing her shoulder, her collarbone, her chin. When she opened her eyes, Miranda's face was mere inches from hers, and then she bent down and kissed her softly and slowly, giving her a taste of herself, and Andy finally allowed her body to relax, reveling in Miranda's warm hand caressing her side.

Well, time to turn the tables and show Miranda her appreciation. After all, she was the one who had showed up uninvited at Andy's door for a booty call because she'd been turned on all day.

Cupping her cheek, Andy deepened the kiss, exploring Miranda's mouth thoroughly before sucking on her tongue and eliciting a low groan from her.

"You're overdressed," she whispered against Miranda's lips and then proceeded to reach into her half-open blouse and squeeze a bra clad breast.

Taking the not-so-subtle hint, Miranda fumbled with the zipper on the side of her skirt, her fingers shaking with her arousal, but eventually she got the garment off, along with her silken panties. Andy took it upon herself to finish unbuttoning the blouse and shove it off Miranda's shoulders before attacking the bra clasp at her back.

And then Miranda was naked before her and, fuck, she looked good. Andy wondered if the day would ever come when she wouldn't be completely flabbergasted by Miranda's beauty, because they'd been going at it like rabbits for the past two months and she still couldn't comprehend what kind of potions Miranda was drinking to maintain that godly body. Perhaps she was holding herself to the same standards she did the models at the magazine, or maybe it was just another aspect of her Miranda-ness and her ability to achieve perfection effortlessly.

Sometimes Andy worried that Miranda might get tired of her one day; that she would realize Andy wasn't nearly as attractive as all the models and actresses and clackers Miranda surrounded herself with every day--or even Miranda herself--and she would deem her unworthy and leave her.

But then she would catch that look in her eyes, the look that nobody but Andy received. It wasn't just attraction and arousal--it went far beyond that. It held affection and tenderness and something else that Andy couldn't name but made her heart beat faster.

Miranda was giving her that look now. Maybe she could read Andy's thoughts. Andy decided not to dwell on it, at least not at the moment because Miranda still hadn't gotten her release and Andy was really looking forward to paying her back.

With that in mind, she leaned back down and captured Miranda's lips in hers once more, then pulled back and, with a teasing smirk, husked, "Roll over." And Miranda, astonishingly, did as she was told, no questions asked.

Seeing Miranda on her stomach, supported by her arms, knees slightly bent and ass raised, was always a turn-on for Andy, and even after her own "happy ending," she experienced a new frisson of excitement at the sight. The position was so vulnerable that, before their first time trying it, she never would have expected the powerful fashion maven to surrender herself like that.

But, in keeping with the theme of surprising Andy, Miranda had turned out to be quite adventurous in bed and willing to try almost anything. So, maybe not so astonishing after all. Andy would have thought it was a desire to relinquish some control in one aspect of her life while in every other she always had to take charge, if she hadn't seen how much Miranda also enjoyed dominating her in bed. So perhaps Miranda just liked doing things that pleased Andy and, in turn, herself.

Well, she was definitely going to be pleased tonight.

Trailing a path of kisses down her spine, Andy reveled in the shivers Miranda's body gave in response. Then, feeling mischievous, she bit her left butt cheek and chuckled when Miranda squeaked involuntarily and burrowed further into the sheets.

Her body was giving off heat like a furnace and Andy knew she must be aching by now, dying to be fucked, especially after eating Andy out, especially after waiting a whole day. So Andy wouldn't make her wait any longer. With one final lick to her butt, to soothe the slight indentations her teeth had left in the pristine skin, she set to pleasing Miranda.

Miranda's clit was red and swollen and when Andy drew it into her mouth and flicked it with her tongue, Miranda gave a guttural moan and pushed back against her. And boy, she was wet. So wet that Andy almost felt bad for her teasing throughout the day. Almost.

But then she had an idea.

When she released her clit, Miranda whimpered in protest, and when she blew air on it, Miranda shuddered. Then she took cruel pleasure in watching her writhe on the mattress in search of contact before taking pity on her and sliding a finger into her well-lubricated channel, followed by another. And then she kissed her way back up Miranda's back while pumping her fingers slowly until she reached her ear and took the top of it between her teeth.

"So you've been thinking about this all day?" she asked again in a low voice that she knew would drive Miranda out of her mind. "What did you think about? What did you want to do me in that bra?"

When she received nothing but a keening moan, she grinned and gave a harder shove with her fingers.

"Oh, god," Miranda's grunt was muffled by the pillow beneath her.

"Would you have called me into your office?" Andy asked softly, twisting her fingers. Miranda whimpered. "Closed the door?"

No response came but Miranda's heavy breathing, growing faster by the moment. Andy wasn't waiting for one, though. She was getting exactly the responses she wanted.

"Would you have bent me over your desk, pulled my skirt up and my panties down, and told me to stay quiet?" Miranda cried out. Andy continued in a voice just above a whisper, "So quiet, because Jessica would have been right outside, and anyone could have walked in and..."

She didn't need to finish. They were both picturing it: Jessica or Nigel or a clacker walking into Miranda's office while Miranda was knuckles deep in Andy's pussy, making her come. Getting caught, of course, would be one of their worst nightmares, but as a fantasy it was working quite nicely, especially judging by how much wetter Miranda was getting.

Andy added a third finger and Miranda pushed her ass up higher, trying to accommodate the girth.

"Or in the elevator," she whispered in Miranda's ear. Andy was the only one allowed to share an elevator with Miranda. That in itself should have been suspecious, but then no one was suicidal enough to question Miranda. And if they questioned Andy, she just shrugged and claimed to have no clue how Miranda's mind worked. Which wasn't that far from the truth.

Lowering her thumb to Miranda's aching clit, Andy brushed it in time with her thrusts. She could see Miranda's abdominal muscles clenching rhythmically, her breath coming in short gasps. "Would you have pressed the 'stop' button and pushed me up against the wall? Put your hand between my legs--thank god for my skirt--and--"

Before she could finish, Miranda's inner walls squeezed her fingers painfully and her whole body shook while she screamed, the noise muffled by the pillow.

When she was done, she slumped back down against the bed, breathing heavily, trembling. Andy felt quite happy with her work.

"Oh... god. Oh, god," Miranda panted, turning her head to the side. Her bangs were stuck to her sweaty forehead and her makeup was smeared. She looked beautiful. Andy kissed her lips.

"So," she began after giving Miranda a few moments to recover, "did you get what you came here for?"

And to her delight, Miranda laughed, her voice low and sweet. She kissed her again and this time Miranda kissed back, slowly returning to herself.

"How about some water?" Andy murmured when they broke apart.

"Please," Miranda replied, her voice raspy, as if on cue.

Grinning to herself, Andy hopped off the bed and left in the direction of the kitchen. These days, she always kept a couple of S.Pellegrino bottles in her fridge for when Miranda came over, and she prided herself on her genius as she poured the water into two glasses.

Upon returning to the bedroom, she found Miranda settling into her side of the bed (their biggest disagreement so far was that they both preferred the same side in the bed, and if one of them had to give it up, of course it would be Andy) and pulling the blanket up to her chest. (Then again, Miranda was putting up with her small, creaky bed and simple, cotton sheets, so maybe Andy wasn't the only one doing the compromising.)

With a smile, she handed one of the glasses to Miranda and climbed over her to the other side of the bed. Once both had sipped their water and put the glasses away, they settled in more comfortably and Andy folded her arms on top of Miranda's chest and rested her chin on them with what she assumed was a pretty goofy grin. But instesd of rolling her eyes at her, Miranda simply lifted one hand and tucked a strand of hair behind Andy's ear, then proceeded to run her fingers through her hair.

It felt good. Almost better than sex, even. Moments like this were special. They strengthened her belief that they had something real going on and what they were doing wasn't entirely stupid. After all, they were risking a lot.

Miranda was Andy's boss, and Irv and the Elias-Clarke board wouldn't give two shits that Andy was falling head over heels for her; they would call Miranda a sexual predator and Irv would finally be able to get rid of her and find a new editor-in-chief who would do the job for half the money and half the quality. And Andy would get a name of someone who slept her way to the top and wave goodbye to dreams of being a serious, respected journalist.

Not to mention Miranda's daughters, who still hadn't been told why Mommy was sometimes spending her evenings out and would soon start asking questions.

And if--or when--Miranda finally decided to tell them the truth, what if they didn't like Andy? What if they told their mom that they didn't want her dating a woman, someone closer to their age than Miranda's? They'd already suffered through two divorces and too many media frenzies and one of Miranda's biggest concerns in life was disappointing or hurting her children. What if they told her to leave Andy? Would she continue to indulge their every whim, even at the cost of her own happiness? Would it be fair of Andy to make her choose?

And what if someone found out about them, before they were ready to come out or even seriously acknowledge that there was a "them?" Because up until now, they'd been having fun. They'd been having a great time. But where were they going? What did the future hold for them? Did they have a future? Andy was a lot younger than Miranda and just at the start of her career, and they were from completely different worlds and barely had anything in common, except that they were both crazy about each other. Andy knew that much. By now, she knew that much. She was falling for Miranda and Miranda was falling for her, even if neither of them was ready to admit it yet.

And then what if someone exposed them before they had a chance to admit it? Because they were being careful, but they could only be so careful, especially with Miranda being who she was, with so many people's attention directed at her. One blip, one misstep and it would be so easy for the press to pick it up.

The press. Oh, god, if the press got wind of it, they'd be in deep shit. They would be ruined. They could kiss both their privacy and careers goodbye, and Andy's parents would be outraged, and it would probably be the end of her and Miranda. And she was not ready for that.

"What are you thinking about?" Miranda's smooth, gentle voice pulled her out of her thoughts and she refocused her gaze on her. Intense, blue eyes were boring into her soul, it seemed, while fingers continued to caress her hair, sending pleasant tingles through her scalp.

With a deep sigh, she shook her head to rid it of all those thoughts. They were too terrifying to consider at the moment. She much preferred, instead, to lie in Miranda's arms and stare at her lovely face, currently covered in ruined makeup. Miranda, who gave her that warm, affectionate look again and moved her hand down to run across her shoulder. They would be okay. They had to be.

"Nothing," she finally answered with a smile and snuggled in closer, pressing her body against the side of Miranda's. "Can you stay?"

Removing her hand from Andy's body, much to Andy's chagrin, she ran it through her mussed hair and said, "I don't have my things here," again sounding like her old, practical self.

"I can give you some PJs to borrow," Andy said sweetly, wanting to laugh at the image her mind conjured up, of Miranda wearing her old, flannel set.

Miranda, shockingly, didn't even entertain the idea with a resoponse. She merely rolled her eyes heavenward.

After a few moments, to Andy's immense disappointment, she slid out from underneath Andy's body and got out of bed. But instead of heading for the kitchen, where her belongings lay discarded, she rounded the bed and entered the en suite, closing the door behind her. Moments later, Andy heard water running.

When Miranda emerged from the bathroom, her hair was brushed and her face was free of makeup (in that moment, Andy regretted not owning all of Miranda's expensive lotions, just so she wouldn't have to resort to using Andy's limited supply). Then, to Andy's utter delight, she climbed back under the covers. Andy didn't realize she was grinning like an idiot until Miranda shot her a look that was very reminiscent of the ones she'd usually received at Runway before they embarked on this crazy adventure together.

"Are we going to sleep or do you plan on staring at me all night?" Miranda asked in her best snooty tone and Andy felt much too good to retort. So instead, she cuddled up to her again and kissed her shoulder. Miranda, in turn, kissed her forehead, making Andy's stomach flip pleasantly.

Tomorrow morning, Miranda would go back to her own house to review the Book and get ready for work and Andy would take the subway to Elias-Clarke, and when Miranda arrived at the office, she would give her a polite smile and "Good morning, Miranda," and then wait to be summoned into her office for the routine morning instructions, which she would then proceed to complete like the perfect assistant that she was. And everything would go back to normal.

But for now, Andy had a naked Miranda in her bed, wrapping her arms around her and making her feel warm and safe, and for the moment she was happy.