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Just in Time

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The day before Thanksgiving Andy gets a call from Miranda. If she is being honest, Andy is a little surprised to hear from her. She figures Miranda would be busy around this time with preparations for the girls returning home for a long break from school. Miranda has mentioned their homecoming more than a few times over the past week. Andy found it particularly adorable. Miranda had their rooms cleaned and their winter clothes pulled out of storage. She had even asked them if there was anything they would like prepared for dinner.

“Hello.” Miranda says glumly.

Andy can tell instantly that something is wrong. "What’s going on?"

“Everyone is fine,” Miranda assures her quickly. “But Caroline just called. She and Cassidy won’t be coming home for Thanksgiving. At least not for ten days.”

“Shit.” Andy can feel her disappointment. “What happened?”

“One of their suite mates at school tested positive for COVID yesterday. They don’t want to risk bringing it home. Of course I agreed that they should self-quarantine.” The thought of doing the right thing doesn’t make Miranda feel any less rotten. “I’ve put them up in a hotel right outside of campus and they are scheduled to get tested in a few days.”

“I’m so sorry,” Andy says sincerely. “I know how much you were looking forward to seeing them.”

“I really was,” Miranda admits.

“Do you want me to come over instead? No one should be alone on Thanksgiving.”

“What about you?” Miranda asks, “Don’t you have plans?”

“I was just going to eat dinner with my brother and his wife. They live in New Jersey. He was going to pick me up tomorrow morning.”

“I don’t want to ruin your plans.” Miranda clears unshed tears from her throat.

“You wouldn’t be. You would be improving them by a million percent, actually. My brother’s wife is allergic to almost everything.”

Andy can feel her hopeful hesitation. Of course Miranda wants to say yes, but the last thing she wants to be is a burden. Andy decides to phrase it as if Miranda is doing her a favor.

“Please give me an excuse to not have to eat a quote-unquote-turkey somehow made from jackfruit.”

Miranda laughs, easing a little of her tension. “Alright.”

“Perfect. I’ll get a rapid test today just to make triple-sure I won’t accidentally kill us both.”

“Thank you for that. It’s settled then? I’ll see you tomorrow?” Miranda’s voice sounds so hopeful, Andy wouldn’t dare even joke about not showing up.

“You will.” Andy agrees. “Want me to bring anything?”

“Only if you have a good wine pairing for chicken piccata.”

“You got it.”

Andy agonizes over her wine selections for thirteen whole minutes before grabbing the one that Gavin recommends and heading towards the door. The temperature isn’t too low but the wind is ruthless, so she grabs a beanie before leaving and is glad for it on the way.

She finds a few butterflies jittering in her stomach as she rings Miranda’s doorbell. Miranda opens the door to greet her after a few moments and she is truly a sight for sore eyes. Andy doesn’t bother wiping the dopey grin off of her face as she appreciates the sight of Miranda in her relaxed casual wear. Her slacks may be designer and her sweater is definitely cashmere, but both look comfy and warm. Andy steps inside and follows her to the kitchen.

“There’s an ice bucket for your wine,” Miranda says after taking her coat. She admires her own handiwork on the leather jacket before placing it in the closet. She was right. It fits Andy like a glove.

After washing her hands and setting her wine aside to chill Andy asks, “Can I help with anything? It smells delicious.”

“You can choose some music.” Miranda suggests, handing over her phone. “The food will be ready shortly.”

Andy chooses one of her favorite bands and puts the setting on shuffle. It feels a little too early for holiday music anyway. The sultry voice of the main singer fills up the space around them. Andy takes a seat at the counter to watch Miranda expertly flip shallots in brown butter to crisp them before pouring them over roasted french beans. Andy marvels at her skill.

“Can you grab the wine opener from the drawer by the sink? Your bottle should almost be chilled enough by now.”

“Sure,” Andy agrees. She places a bracing hand on Miranda’s back to squeeze by her and Miranda draws in a sharp breath. Andy’s concentration is focused on the quest for the bottle opener and Miranda is grateful that she doesn’t notice. By the time she figures out Miranda’s fancy wine opener with very little help from the chucking editor they are ready to eat.

They choose to sit down to eat in the formal dining room adjacent to the kitchen simply because they can. The table looks a little silly when it’s just set for two but they go all out anyway, with candles and place settings and vintage wine glasses. Instead of sitting at two opposite ends like royalty, Andy sits at the head of the table with Miranda on her left.

Before they dig in, Andy bows her head and gestures to Miranda to do the same.

“Dear God,” Andy says with mock seriousness. Miranda bows her head but cracks one eye open, knowing there’s likely some mischief afoot.

“Covid sucks. Amen.”

“Amen,” Miranda agrees.

They lift their heads to eat.

The meal is delicious and the company is even better. Andy manages to distract Miranda from her sadness with commentary on her latest favorite shows and follow-up details of her LA Times article. Mirada is a little bashful to admit that she bought a few copies the second it was printed. Perhaps one day she will frame them as a gift.

After dinner Andy cleans the kitchen as a thank you for the amazing meal. She is reluctant to leave their little nest of comfort for the evening and Miranda is in no hurry to send her off. Miranda suggests they see if any good movies are on television in the upstairs living room. She refuses to put up a tree before December first but has a few twinkling lights on the mantle because the girls have always enjoyed them. They usually mark the start of the holiday season.

The Holiday is their best option on cable it turns out. They aren’t much in the mood to concentrate on anything too heavy or complicated so this suits them just as well. The house gets a little chilly after the sun goes down, so Miranda grabs the knitted blanket folded up on the back of the couch.

“Do you mind sharing? The other throw is in the wash.”

"Of course not," Andy says easily. “Movies are always better when you’re extra cozy.”

Miranda turns the volume up just slightly after spreading the blanket over their laps. She knows that she is playing with fire here, but cannot seem to stop herself. Andrea agreed to spend the holiday with her, finds a way to contact her most days, wears the jacket Miranda made her daily as if she does not own others. Surely those actions convey some sort of interest. She would like to find out. Soon.

An hour into the movie, Andy feels her eyelids growing heavy. She glances to her left to see Miranda has nodded off, her chest rising softly, looking completely relaxed even as one shoulder has slipped free of her wide-necked sweater. Andy isn’t ready for sleep, too caught up in being this close to someone so guarded like Miranda. So often she has admired Miranda’s beauty and effortless grace, but she has rarely been given the opportunity to admire so closely.

Pretty soon her blinks slow until she can’t fight it anymore. Perhaps after a quick nap she will have the energy to call for a ride and make her way home. The night has to end eventually, even if it is far better than any pandemic Thanksgiving she could have hoped for.

It's after midnight when Andy feels a firm hand on her shoulder, squeezing softly to ease her awake.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” she yawns. “Let me find my phone and I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Don’t be silly. I have two guest rooms. It’s too late for you to go home.”

Andy glances around to find a clock, shocked to see it is a few minutes shy of one in the morning. “If you’re sure, I’d really appreciate it.”

“Follow me,” Miranda says, leading the way down the hall.

They make a pit stop at Miranda’s bedroom, and Andy idles at the door. She sleepily leans against the doorframe as if afraid to cross over the threshold. Miranda opens a chest of drawers to pull out a dark blue silky pajama set and hands it over. With the clothing in hand, Andy follows her to the guest room further down the hall.

“There should be a toothbrush and anything else you would need under the sink.” Miranda gestures vaguely in the direction of the bathroom.

Andy smiles, “Got it.”

“Wake me if you need anything.”

“I will,” she nods.

Miranda pauses for a second as if deciding to speak before turning to go back to her own room. “And, Andrea…” she hesitates, “Thank you. For being here. Everything you’ve done today means a great deal to me.”

Andy takes the words for what they’re worth. “You mean a great deal to me too.”

Miranda lets her lips form a soft smile. This willful girl has always seen right through her, hasn’t she? Before giving herself a chance to back away from Andrea, she leans in closer, placing a gentle hand on one cheek and kissing the other.

“Goodnight,” she says just above a whisper. She turns to walk back in the direction of her own bedroom.

In a haze, Andy hears the door close but still stands stricken in the hallway. It’s probably a good thing Miranda left before the very obvious blush streaks across her face and chest. Her interest may not be quite as unrequited as she originally thought. That’s certainly an inviting thought to carry her through the night.

She sheds her black jeans and top, slipping into her borrowed pajamas and sliding under expensive sheets. Not that she didn’t spend a good amount of money on her own bedroom set, but It’s almost embarrassing how good this bed feels in comparison to her own.

Thinking of Miranda’s petal-soft lips on her cheek, she falls almost instantly to sleep.

Even though the Runway staff has the Friday off, Miranda is a habitual early riser. She makes her way downstairs as quietly as she can so as not to wake up Andrea. She realizes that the gesture is in vain when not even halfway through her cup of coffee she hears footsteps coming closer to the kitchen. She turns to the cabinet to find a mug for her.

When Andy arrives in the kitchen the sight of Miranda dumbfounds her. Miranda’s hair is a little tousled, her comfortable top is slightly askew, and her bare ankles peek out just below her wide-legged pants. How on earth did Miranda’s husbands have the privilege of waking up to this glorious sight every morning and manage to take it for granted? She has never felt luckier to witness something so ordinary. What’s more is that in the cold light of morning she is tired of dancing around her attraction. It’s time to figure out if Miranda wants the same thing.

"Did you sleep well?” Miranda asks without turning around. She fills a large mug with coffee and reaches towards the sugar canister to bring it closer toward her guest.

“Like a rock,” Andy replies. “Thank you for letting me stay over.”

Miranda finally turns to give Andrea her full attention as she hands over the hot mug. Andy looks strangely alert, the full night of sleep having apparently done her well. Andy takes a long sip of the brew, savoring the taste as it goes down smoothly.

"Any time,” Miranda says softly. This is not an offer she makes lightly. She hopes Andrea understands.

“You mean that?” Andy sets her mug down.

“I do.”

The air around them suddenly feels supercharged. Andy looks at the honesty reflected in Miranda’s eyes. She notices the attraction there too, in the way Miranda looks slightly flushed and expectant. Somehow before now she hadn’t noticed what now seems glaringly obvious. Her insecurities about her own feelings must have clouded her judgement.

Andy moves closer to Miranda and cups a gentle hand around Miranda’s jaw to draw her in. She gives Miranda just a moment to back away but doesn’t need it. Miranda’s eyes drop to Andy’s lips before she leans in fully for a kiss.

The first touch of their lips is like magic, sending a spark down Miranda’s spine. She draws her arms around Andy’s neck to pull her even closer, moaning as she feels a flash of Andy’s tongue.

Hearing Miranda’s approval Andy abandons her reservations. Her desire ratchets up as she runs her hands along the planes of Miranda's back. Her lips continue moving sensuously along Miranda’s as she reaches down to grab at her ass. Miranda gasps at the contact, a thrill igniting in her belly.

On a whim, Andy lifts gently, hoisting Miranda up onto the counter to gain access to her neck. She glides kisses down the smooth column, she can’t help tasting and nipping gently, loving the breathy little sounds Miranda makes. Already she feels almost drunk with passion, addicted to watching the normally reserved woman before her so unabashed and passionate.

“You have about three seconds to slow down,” Miranda says between moans, “Before I lose what’s left of my mind.”

Andy cannot think of a single thing she would enjoy more. She brings her lips up from Miranda’s neck to the shell of her ear, biting the lobe. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Oh God,” Miranda arches her back, “Not at all.” She’d let this woman do anything she wants. Right here in the kitchen, even.

Andy takes that as her permission, she's always been good about seizing an opportunity when its presented. She grabs Miranda’s hand and leads her away from the kitchen in search of a horizontal surface. Just about any of them would do right about now. The couch in the living room is as good a spot as any. Miranda has no objections.

Andy plops down onto the expensive tweed fabric, reaching out a hand to grab Miranda who follows her lead. Miranda straddles her lap, using her new vantage point to draw Andy into another kiss. It’s been decades since she has done this with another woman but with Andrea she feels more anticipation than nerves. Andy runs her hands up Miranda’s sides as they kiss, smoothing them under Miranda’s shirt along skin that feels silky soft. When Miranda makes no objections, her hands move towards Miranda’s breasts with a little more determination.

“Yes,” Miranda sighs, sensing her hesitation. “Touch them.”

“God,” Andy sighs, holding perfection in her hands. She rolls the sensitive peaks between her fingertips through the lace. “You feel amazing.”

Impatiently, Miranda yanks off her shirt. She reaches behind herself and unclasps her bra as well, tossing both behind her in the general direction of the coffee table. Andy’s eyes grow wide with the object of her desire positioned right in front of her. She brings her lips closer to taste, replacing one of her hands with her mouth. She can’t resist sucking a sensitive nipple into her mouth gently, delighted as Miranda arches toward her. She alternates back and forth as Miranda’s moans echo softly between them.

“Please,” Miranda says desperately, “I can’t wait anymore. Please.”

Without even removing Miranda’s loose trousers she dips her hand inside her pants, running her thumb along Miranda’s clit over the lace in her underwear. Miranda’s jaw drops open in pleasure. Andy can feel the wetness already there and it drives her crazy. God, this woman is exquisite. She rubs her thumb in tiny circles as Miranda cries out.

“Inside,” she manages to say with a breathy moan.

Andy has always been good at following Miranda’s instructions. She slides the underwear down, entering Miranda with a slim finger. “Like this?” she asks as Miranda’s breath hitches.

“More,” she says, and Andy adds another finger. Miranda begins to cant her hips forward in a rhythm, edging closer to release. Andy can feel how close she is and decides to show her mercy running a gentle thumb along Miranda’s sensitive bundle of nerves as she curls her fingers.

Andy feels the rhythmic spasm as Miranda climaxes, letting out a long moan as her hips slow. That was incredible, unlike anything she’s ever felt.

“Fuck.” Andy says, watching her come down from her high. Miranda’s head drops down to rest against Andy’s shoulder. She lets out a little chuckle. “I agree.”

Andy slides her hand out gently once Miranda sits back up. Miranda watches with desire as Andy licks each of her fingers clean. She cannot remember the last time she had been this turned on.

“Now it’s my turn,” she says with a somewhat predatory gleam in her eye. “However you seem to be a little overdressed.”

“We can’t have that, can we?”

“Absolutely not.”

Miranda shifts her weight into her knees to give Andy room to lift off her pajama top. She looks down at the gorgeous sight she’s been gifted with and licks her lips in anticipation.

Trying not to feel too self conscious, Andy lets her look. Reverently Miranda reaches her hand out to touch Andy, using just the right pressure on her sensitive flesh. The sensation sends a shock straight between her legs and Andy becomes too turned on to feel anything else as Miranda’s hands expertly work her up.

Miranda sits back for a second and braces her hands against the back of the couch to slide down Andy’s body. Andy wants to protest the lack of contact but before she can, Miranda trails kisses down her chest and torso. Her lips capture one of Andy’s nipples and she tests out a gentle bite. Andy lets out a wail of approval so Miranda tries it again. Andy really should have known this woman would be a little predatory, not that she minds one bit.

Once Miranda’s knees hit the rug she briefly glances up to watch Andy’s face. Seeing no protest, she hooks her fingers into the waistband of Andy’s pants to drag them and her underwear down and off.

“Holy shit,” Andy says, trying not to lose her mind at the mere thought of Miranda Priestly going down on her.

“Is this alright?” Miranda asks, just to be sure.

“Oh yeah,” Andy’s hips twitch. “Absolutely.”

Miranda’s eyes twinkle before diving in. She brings her lips to Andy’s center, kissing just above her mound to tease. Already Andy feels just about ready to burst, watching Miranda come had nearly pushed her over the edge anyway. She brings a leg up to rest it on Miranda’s shoulder, opening herself up. Miranda flattens her tongue and drags it along the length of Andy, long and slow to savor the taste. Andy’s moans grow louder as Miranda continues, alternating the pressure of her tongue to keep Andy right on the edge.

Finally Miranda brings her lips around Andy’s clit and sucks gently. Andy runs her hands through Miranda’s soft silver hair, drawing her in even closer as her hips rise up. She tips over the fine line she was walking as her orgasm slams into her.

Miranda gentles her touch as Andy’s bones turn into mush. She melts into a satisfied heap on the couch. Miranda urges her to lie down and covers Andy’s body with her own. With Miranda’s head on her chest Andy runs her hands along her back, enjoying the smoothness.

“That was amazing,” she sighs.

Miranda chuckles. It had been fantastic. “Indeed.”

After about fifteen minutes of basking in their afterglow, Miranda hears a stomach growl and is almost certain it’s not her own. Andy blushes.

“Come on,” she begins to stand up and search for her own pajama top. “I’ll make eggs.”

Andy makes no move to get up. “Eggs? I don’t think I’m quite done with you yet.”

“I did not mention anything about being done,” Miranda slips her slightly wrinkled shirt over her head, not bothering with her bra. “I simply wish to keep your energy up.”

Andy’s eyes gleam. “I have a feeling I’m going to need it.”

Late Friday evening Miranda accepts a FaceTime from her daughters as she makes a cup of tea. She props the phone against the toaster so she can still talk as the water steeps. Caroline and Cassidy expected to see their mother looking kind of sullen and upset after a Thanksgiving spent alone, especially after so much time apart, but she has an odd sort of glow about her. She almost seems as if she is floating.

They chat for a bit, and make plans to come home in about a week if they both test negative for the virus. Suddenly they can hear the sound of someone shuffling around in the background of Miranda’s video frame, just out of sight.

“Mom?” Cassidy says. “Who is that? Is someone there?”

“Andrea is here. She stayed over in the guest room for Thanksgiving to keep me company for the holiday.” This is not technically a lie.

“Oh. Well that’s nice I guess.” Cassidy replies.

Caroline’s asks then, “What did you guys get up to?”

It is only due to her many years of cultivating the world’s most indifferent poker face that Miranda does not blush. Hopefully by the time they arrive home she will think of an appropriate answer to that question.

“I’ll tell you about it later.”

~The End~