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Cerulean Roses

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Miranda has never understood the celebration of anniversaries, or at least has never understood the weight given to them. Time had passed, as it always does. What was there to celebrate in that? She remembered them, of course, bought her husband or significant other some sort of shiny bobble and wasn’t immensely surprised when they forgot the date. Such things did not do anything to endear her to anniversaries and when combined with her natural derision against such celebrations, well, she had stopped really trying.

Except now here she was, in the foyer of the townhouse scattering rose petals around, cerulean blue of course. She knew that Andrea would appreciate the tongue in cheek touch. Candles were waiting around the house to be lit at a later time when Andrea was closer to coming home. Wine was chilling in the refrigerator, the Pinot Grigio that Andrea loved that would pair rather well with the lobster mac’n’cheese that Andrea devoured by the bowl when they were out. Miranda had made it herself and deemed it worthy of dinner. She’d had a backup plan just in case, of course, but it seemed all the more special if she made it instead of some chef or other. Salad was mixed and waiting for dressing. Rolls were warming in a basket. Chocolate cake was ready to go in the oven when they started dinner. The table in the dining room was set for two. All and all she had put more effort into this anniversary than any other anniversary she had had combined.

Miranda traced her bottom lip with her finger as she returned to the kitchen, the rose petals sufficiently scattered. It wasn’t hard to deduce why this anniversary was different than the others. Andrea was different than all her previous lovers by leaps and bounds. Miranda found herself totally, passionately, head over heels in love before she’d ever realized it. If she thought back, interest had sparked during the cerulean lecture. She had wanted to take the girl and educate her about a great many things. But really, when it had set in fully was when the Harry Potter manuscript had been placed on her desk with that smug, triumphant smile on Andrea’s face. She was gone after that as much as she tried to fight against it.

She checked her watch. If everything was timed right Andrea would be climbing into the car to come home now. Miranda’s heart climbed into her throat. She hoped the other woman liked all of this. She hoped it wasn’t all too cliché. Miranda Priestly didn’t do cliché, but when she had no idea what else to do…well, the classics did always make a comeback in fashion eventually.

She shook herself. She didn’t doubt herself either. The only reason that she was head of a fashion empire was because she never ever for one second doubted anything she was doing. If she was wrong she never gave quarter and pretended the mistake was never made. Not that she ever made many mistakes, but that was beside the point.

Miranda made her way upstairs to check that everything was still to her liking. The bedroom had been the first thing that she had prepared when she had returned from work after only a few hours. Anniversary sex had always been an obligatory thing before, but sex with Andrea was anything but obligatory. She wanted this, wanted it to be special.

She walked into the bedroom and inhaled. Roses and vanilla hit her senses. She smiled at that. Laying the rose petals out early here had been a good choice. She looked over the perfectly made bed with the softest sheets she owned pulled in lines straighter than what a straight edge could make. She had no illusions that those lines would be destroyed the second they walked in the room together, but that was half the fun really. There were more candles, though these were electronic. Not quite the same ambience, but she had no illusions that they would forget about them and Miranda did not want to burn the house down literally, only metaphorically.

She treaded carefully and opened the drawer of the nightstand. Everything that she had put there earlier was still there. She looked over the items to make sure nothing was missing. It wasn’t. She had been very, very thorough. Any toy they could possibly want was within the drawer. She reached out and stroked the harness of the strap on and shivered. She avidly hoped it was used tonight, though she couldn’t quite decide who she wanted to be wearing it.

She shut the drawer and started to turn on all the candles now that time was coming down to the wire. The batteries would last long enough that they would still be on after dinner. With one last look around the room she nodded her approval, a small smile on her face, before descending the stairs and back into the kitchen.

She looked at her watch again, resisting the urge to bounce on her toes. Ten minutes. She could wait ten minutes. Andrea was worth the wait. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t pace and so she did, heels clicking against the wooden floor. She smoothed her hands down her dress, more provocative than she would normally choose, a deep maroon, verging on black, cut low enough to tease, a skirt that fell just past mid-thigh, and a scooped back that left a good bit of her back bare. Valentino had outdone himself on this one, she thought. Andrea would most certainly think so as well. She shivered, imagining the feeling of Andrea’s fingers playing connect the dots on her back with her freckles. She loved when the other woman did that, intimate and sensual. It drove her crazy.

Miranda perked up as she heard a car slow down outside the townhouse. She walked towards the foyer, positioning herself just out of sight. She wanted to see the look on Andrea’s face when she walked in and saw the roses and candles. A interminable minute later, Andrea opened the door and stepped through. Miranda gasped quietly, looking at the object clutched in Andrea’s hands, a bouquet of white orchids laying in the crook of her arm. It couldn’t be, could it? However had Andrea found it when she, with all her resources couldn’t. 

She looked up to see the other woman’s face, softly smiling in that way that told her that she had done well. Andrea stepped forward over the rose petals carefully, chuckling as she went, no doubt over the color. Miranda had informed her long ago that her interest had started during that first lecture on color and fashion. Andrea walked over to the candles and caressed the little glass jars, careful to keep everything she was holding away from the flames.

Miranda stepped out of the shadows. “Good evening, darling. Happy Anniversary.”

Andrea looked up and smiled brighter now that Miranda was in the room. Miranda always wondered how in the world she didn’t go blind in the face of such a smile, so different from the fake ones the models plastered on.

“Happy Anniversary.” She stepped forward and kissed Miranda lightly on the lips, minding the perfectly applied lipstick on Miranda’s lips. She shuffled everything around in her arms until she could hold out the bouquet of flowers to Miranda with another smile. “I looked up the meaning of orchids they mean—”

“Refined beauty,” Miranda finished for her taking the flowers, biting her lip and looking down, a blush starting to cover her cheeks.

“Yeah, I thought that was perfect for you. You’re the most beautiful woman there is.”

Miranda cleared her throat and looked up. It still amazed her how much Andrea meant such sentiments. After years of her husbands and lovers only calling her beautiful when she was made up to be perfect, it was nice to have someone to think she was perfect even when she was without any of the shields she put on to go out into the world. She wondered idly if the girl had looked up the meaning of orchids if she’d come across the meaning of blue roses, mystery, obtaining the impossible, love at first sight. All of those things were how she felt about Andrea in a way.

She reached forward and took the hand that was now free and squeezed. “I’ll go put these in water. Come into the kitchen once you’re put your things down.” She smiled and pressed another kiss to Andrea’s lips before clicking back into the kitchen to await her love.

She didn’t have to wait long. Andrea was by her side just as she was cutting the stems of the orchids and putting them into the sugared water. Arms wrapped around her waist and hugged her to a supple body. Miranda leaned into the grip and sighed, content.

“Are you hungry, darling?”

“Starving actually. What in the world is cooking? It smells absolutely delicious.”

“Lobster mac’n’cheese. I made it myself, actually. But first, there’s the salad course to get through.” She poked into Andrea’s side. “We can’t have you losing energy later because you didn’t have your vegetables, now can we?” She shot Andrea a rather feral look.

Andrea’s eyes immediately darkened. “No, I don’t suppose we can.”

Miranda twisted lightly out of the other woman’s grip and walked to the fridge. She could feel Andrea’s graze raking over her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. She smirked at the little groan that her love held in the back of her throat. She had definitely chosen the dress well. She bent a little more than was strictly necessary to grab the salad and dressing from the fridge and almost laughed at the distressed noise behind her. Andrea was almost too easy to tease.

“Go sit down in the dining room. I’ll be there in just a second.”

Andrea clearly debated following the directions for a second before nodding and heading off, looking over her shoulder the entire time at Miranda. Miranda chuckled now that the girl was out of earshot and quickly dressed the salad. She ladled out portions onto two plates, grabbed the glasses and wine, and walked out into the dining room. The time she had spent as a waitress back in the East End had done her well in the years following.

The other woman was standing in the doorway to the dining room, just looking over the set up. Miranda nudged her out of the way and set down everything on the table and turned towards the girl. She cocked an eyebrow and gestured to the other seat that wasn’t so very far away from the one she’d claimed as her own. She stroked the table cloth with the tips of her fingers idly. The table was different than the one that usually occupied the room. She had nearly caused one of her new Emily’s a heart attack today when she had walked in and demanded that a small romantic table to replace the one normally in her dining room for the night, to be there of course, before Miranda left right after lunch. The idiot had almost tied herself into a pretzel, but she had done just as Miranda had asked.

Andrea floated over and took her seat, looking at the candles on the table and the wine that Miranda was pouring out and the food in front of her. “Wow, Miranda, I don’t think anyone’s ever gone this all out for me for an anniversary before.”

“That’s because they’re idiots. You deserve to have someone going all out for you, darling.” She reached out and grabbed Andrea’s hand before squeezing it.

Andrea smiled and started to eat with her other hand, groaning as the salad hit her tongue. “You made this? Jesus, Miranda, you didn’t tell me you were a five star chef on top of everything.”

Miranda shrugged. “Once upon a time I had to make my meals as everyone else. And I never do anything with half an effort.”

Andrea swallowed and brought Miranda’s hand up to her mouth and kissed it lightly. “No, you really don’t. It’s part of the reason why I love you.”

Miranda sighed happily. “And I you, Andrea.”

They set to eating, speaking of their respective days easily. Miranda told the story of her assistant pretzel and Andrea rolled her eyes. Miranda had to agree that it was a relatively mild task compared to some of the ones she’d made Andrea accomplish. The girl with her histrionics reminded her much of the original Emily who had moved on not long after Andrea had left in Paris. But at least Emily got things done that required more brain power than a pea. Miranda shook her head.

Andrea told her about the story that had dragged her out of the house at a god awful hour of the morning with a kiss and a happy anniversary to a sleepy Miranda before she left. She was doing a piece on the morning commutes of children from underprivileged areas to better schools. Middle school kids as young as eleven could be commuting to and from school by themselves for over an hour and Andrea wanted to shed light on the issue. The kids walking around the city by themselves were at risk of all sorts of things every day just to get a better education.

When Miranda disappeared to pull the cake from the oven and plate everything Andrea was gone when she came back with two plates of warm cake and ice cream. She tilted her head looking around for the other woman but shrugged. She would be back. Andrea loved chocolate cake right out of the oven. She set the plates down and waited, sipping the last of her wine. She had a pleasant buzz going on now that the two of them had drained the bottle. She smiled. This had most certainly been the best anniversary she’d celebrated and it wasn’t over yet. Her smirk turned salacious at the thought of what was to come.

Andrea walked back into the room a minute later with what she’d had in her hand earlier. She walked to Miranda’s side and stopped with it just out of reach. Her hand came out and threaded through Miranda’s hair, stroking her scalp gently. Miranda wanted to know if what Andrea held was what she thought it was. It looked for all intents and purposes like a book, but the Chanel logo was emblazoned on the front.

“Andrea…” she trailed off looking up into brown eyes questioningly.

“It does pay to keep up old contacts even when you aren’t in the same business anymore. One of my assistant friends heard about this being found in some garage sale of some old man who didn’t know what it was, something about it being his wife’s before and he didn’t understand what the big deal was. Naturally I checked it out just out of curiosity. What I found, well…” She handed the book over to Miranda.

Miranda opened the book and closed her eyes in disbelief, overwhelmed by what she was holding. How this woman beside her had managed it. She had managed the impossible for her again. Her heart swelled in her chest as she opened her eyes and started to turn the pages reverently, the designs below her fingertips already intimately familiar, but different in their sketched state.

“I had it checked out right after I bought it. It’s the real deal. The guy tried to buy it off of me right then and there. I told him no of course but he kept raising the price and wouldn’t take no for an answer. I had to tell him that unless he wanted Miranda Priestly to personally eviscerate him that he should hand me back the sketchbook right now. His face was rather priceless.”

Miranda’s eyes filled up with tears. She’d been looking for this sketchbook, the last one Coco Chanel herself had ever produced, for years. It was the collection that inspired her to try fashion as a career and not just a hobby all those years ago after she had just turned seventeen. She’d quit her job as a waitress and signed up to be a seamstress’s apprentice the next day and the rest had been history. This last sketchbook had fallen off the face of the planet long before she’d ever thought to want it. She’d looked far and wide, but no one had seen hide nor hair of it much to the fashion world’s chagrin.

She put the book down gently and got up, circling the table to where Andrea had sat down to start eating her dessert. She bent down and pulled the other woman into a crushing kiss. Andrea returned the kiss with just as much intensity, tasting of chocolate and vanilla and wine. They both were moaning in a matter of seconds, lost in each other.

When Miranda pulled back minutes later they were both panting. “Darling, I don’t think I know how to thank you. No one has ever gotten me such a thoughtful gift. How you manage the impossible is beyond me, but no one’s ever tried before until you. I love you.”

“The people who didn’t try before were idiots.” Andrea smiled softly at her. “But I’m glad they were idiots because that means I get to have you.” She drew Miranda back into another kiss and Miranda almost had the other woman right then and there in her seat in the dining room, but Andrea pulled back at the last second. “Look over your sketchbook for a while. I have one more surprise, but I need to get ready.” She wiggled her eyebrows ridiculously.

Miranda snorted. “I suppose I shall allow it.” She circled back around the table and sank down into her chair.

Andrea stuffed a couple more bites of the cake in front of her into her mouth before smiling bashfully and rocketing up the stairs. Miranda laughed quietly before eating a few bites of her own cake, sighing at the taste. She had done well with the cake, it was just chocolatey enough without being overwhelming. When she was done she took the remaining plates into the kitchen and turned out all the lights, blowing out candles along the way. She wanted nothing to interrupt this night, and definitely not a fire. She took the sketchbook into her study, locking it in a drawer to be surveyed later.

She tapped her finger on her lips, wondering if she had given Andrea enough time to get ready for whatever surprise she had in store. Miranda had a very good inkling of what the surprise was and most assuredly didn’t want to ruin it by walking in too early. Maybe she should have kept the sketchbook out. Then again, if she had done that she might have been become lost in lines and art that called to the very depths of her soul in a way that only fashion could. No it was safer to pace for a few minutes more and then finally make her way upstairs.

When she could stand it no longer, Miranda climbed the stairs silently. The stairs didn’t creak, so much more used to the twins abuse than to a light touch. She made it up to the third floor easily and prowled down the hall. The door to their room was cracked and the candlelight flickered out into the darkened house. Miranda pushed the door open the rest of the way and stopped breathing.

Andrea was sitting on the bed, legs crossed, impossibly high black heels on her feet. The girl stood up and Miranda’s mouth went as dry as a desert. She was wearing a black lace corset, skin showing through the lace, deliciously teasing where the boning was obscuring the view. Miranda’s eyes drifted down to the barely there matching panties and garters that were attached to black stockings. Miranda felt a little faint taking in the sight before her. How she ever called the girl fat was beyond her. Her Andrea was perfect.

She stepped farther into the room, making a beeline for the woman. She needed Andrea and she needed her now. Andrea met her in the middle of the room and they were kissing a millisecond later. Miranda opened her mouth and let in a questing tongue, moaning as Andrea used the knowledge she had of Miranda’s body to completely overwhelm her within seconds. Miranda knew she should retaliate, make the woman in front of her just as weak in the knees, but then again she knew that she would have time for that later. For now it seemed that Andrea was content to be in charge, hands already moving to unzip Miranda’s dress.

Miranda pressed into Andrea harder, her hands grabbing Andrea’s hips, reveling in the feel of the strip of skin between corset and underwear, fingertips tracing along the skin and raising goosebumps. Her hands drifted to Andrea’s lower back, tracing nonsensical designs on the skin there that was so very sensitive. Andrea arched into her hands and groaned into their kiss.

A second later Miranda’s dress fell to the floor under dexterous hands. Andrea took a step back and her eyes darkened even more. Andrea wasn’t the only one who had gotten new lingerie for tonight. Red and black lace encased her breasts, just barely enough fabric there to support as needed and almost see through. The panties matched, the thong drawing attention to her best assets nicely. Miranda grinned hungrily and stepped forward. She pulling at one of the garters, letting it snap back against Andrea’s skin.

“See something you like, Andrea?”

“Everything.” Her mouth was on her again in a second. She turned them around and started to walk Miranda back towards the bed, step by step. Miranda went willingly, arms wrapped around Andrea once more, both loving and hating the corset. It looked divine, but she wanted to feel Andrea’s skin against her and she did not have nearly the presence of mind needed to unhook a corset.

Her knees hit the bed the next second. She fell back, dragging Andrea with her. They landed with an oomph but neither of them slowed down, still kissing feverishly. The passion was rising between them about to incinerate them both, but Miranda would be glad to burn with this woman on top of her.

She scooted up the bed slowly, an inch at a time. Andrea’s hands found the clasp on her bra and had it unlatched in a second, tugging it off of Miranda and tossing it who knew where. Those nimble fingers found her nipples a second later, pulling and pinching for a few seconds until Miranda was groaning constantly into Andrea’s mouth.

Andrea pulled back and looked down at Miranda, flushed a beautiful shade of pink that didn’t have a name as far as Miranda knew. It was singularly Andrea’s. She reached up and cupped the other woman’s cheek. Andrea leaned into the touch, closing her eyes for just a moment before moving down Miranda’s body, kissing, licking, nipping everywhere she went. Miranda was almost out of her mind with pleasure. Her hands found Andrea’s hair, gripping hard onto soft strands, trying and failing to ground herself. It was always like this with the other woman, positively mind meltingly good. She hadn’t known her body could respond this ardently before she’d taken Andrea to bed. Now she wondered how she ever lived without it.

Andrea grabbed the waistband of her panties finally. Miranda almost sobbed in relief as fabric trailed down her legs and off into the void where her bra had flown. Andrea spread Miranda’s legs and groaned long and loud at what she found there. Miranda could feel herself almost dripping down onto the sheets below. She had been ready for this all day. She was more than ready now. She felt as if she would explode.

And then Andrea wasn’t above her anymore. Miranda jolted up trying to find her lover. Andrea smirked over her shoulder at the distraught Miranda as she walked across the room. “I may have gotten a new toy. Do you want to try it?” She put extra sway in her hips as she continued to walked across the room.

Miranda flopped back on the bed. “Yes, god, please.”

“I thought you might.” Andrea’s voice was low, smoky, positively sinful and was making Miranda’s insides twitch without the girl even touching her.

Miranda counted the infinite moments until Andrea was climbing back onto the bed. She surged up on her elbows to kiss the other woman, needing connection yet again. Andrea allowed the contact for just a minute before she pulled back and smiled devilishly. She pulled a hand from behind her back and cocked an eyebrow. Miranda’s eyes widened and a wave of heat crashed over her. A double headed dildo. She shivered. God.

“Yes?”

“If you don’t know the answer to that question, then I think you might be a bit dense.”

Andrea chuckled and pressed the dildo into Miranda’s hand. “Then put it in me.” She leaned forward and licked Miranda’s ear. “Please,” she whispered in a tone so wanton Miranda almost came right then and there.  

Miranda gripped onto the toy and drew Andrea to her. She sat forward just a bit, tracing the edges of the corset, watching every movement Andrea’s chest made against her fingers. Her lover’s breaths were quick and irregular, pupils blown wide with lust. Miranda wasn’t sure there was a more beautiful sight in the world.

Her other hand came up slowly, fingers finding Andrea’s now bare wetness and stroking softly. She moaned at the exact same time Andrea did. How in the world this woman got so turned on for her, she’d never know, but god did she enjoy it. She found Andrea’s clit and stroked it so very lightly. Andrea trembled underneath her touch, body vibrating for more. Miranda wasn’t about to give it to her just yet. Where ever would the fun in that be?

She moved away from Andrea’s clit, exploring the silky folds slowly, never with enough pressure to ever be satisfying. Andrea was panting above her, straining to hold her hips still. Miranda leaned up more and kissed Andrea lightly for a few second before letting the other woman pant out her pleasure again, enjoying the little squeaks and moans that indicated just how good she was feeling. Andrea stiffened as Miranda’s fingers finally circled her entrance. Miranda hummed at the positively molten heat pouring from her lover before plunging one finger into Andrea.

Andrea arched her back, hips thrusting down now without her consent. Miranda held her finger steady until Andrea managed to get herself back under control. She started to thrust slowly, barely moving really. Andrea whimpered above her, needing so much more. Miranda stroked a few times, hitting the rough patch inside the other woman on each stroke, before adding another finger. She repeated what probably was a rather pleasurably torturous process for Andrea once more, three fingers stretching Andrea nicely. Minutes ticked by in slow thrusts and moans. Miranda was enjoying herself immensely, body buzzing at the pleasure she was giving her lover, but she knew both of them couldn’t last this way forever.

“Miranda please!” Andrea was the one to cave first.

Miranda smirked. “Do you want this inside you, darling?” She rubbed the dildo along Andrea’s slit.

“Yes, please, just please.”

Miranda held out for a long second, watching Andrea’s eyes beg her before she relented. “I suppose.” She positioned the dildo at Andrea’s entrance and thrust in slowly.

Andrea’s groan as she was stretched even more was positively mind melting. Miranda stopped breathing for the second time that night. When it was firmly in place Miranda withdrew her hand, tangling both her hands in Andrea’s hair and drawing her in for a hard kiss. Andrea turned the tide of the kiss in an instant, claiming Miranda’s mouth for her own.

Miranda found herself on her back arms pinned above her head the next second, staring up at Andrea’s wild eyes. “Turnabout is fair play,” she growled.

Miranda arched off the bed as Andrea thrust forward, filling her with the other end of the dildo in one smooth movement. She gasped and tried to wiggle around but between Andrea trapping her arms and the other woman’s weight on top of her there wasn't much of anywhere to go.

Andrea started up a slow rhythm, thrusting hard into Miranda.  Heat built within Miranda slowly, concentrating in her lower abdomen and radiating out, incinerating everything else in her body. She was slowly being driven insane by the woman above her and she was loving every second of it.

"Andrea," she whined out in a most undignified manner. The other woman had to be driving herself mad too at this pace. "Please, god, faster."

Andrea stopped for a long second, smirking down at Miranda before repositioning her arms, letting go of Miranda's wrists and starting to thrust hard and fast, grunting quietly, driving Miranda closer to the edge. She felt the sweat soaking their skin, the bed moving underneath them, the sheets against her over sensitive skin. Every nerve was alight, pleasure rocketing through her body, rebounding and reverberating, intensifying by leaps and bounds every single second.

Miranda reached up and grabbed Andrea, hands clawing at the woman's back. Andrea hissed in a breath and sped up her thrusts just slightly. Miranda was so close. Her muscles were starting to tighten. God it was going to be wonderful, she could tell.

She wanted Andrea to come with her. One of her hands slipped from the woman's back and down, coasting across toned muscle and soft skin, finding Andrea's folds easily. She parted them and stroked hard and fast at the hard little bundle of nerves. Andrea keened under her attention, thrusts becoming just slightly erratic. She angled up just a bit and Miranda felt her body seize up.

She screamed her release into the air, calling Andrea's name just as the other woman shuddered hard and thrust just a few more times before collapsing forward onto Miranda.

They lay there intertwined together for a few long moments, sweat cooling on their bodies as their breathing regulated. Miranda's hand stroked up and down Andrea's back absently, little aftershocks still coursing through her. Andrea laid a kiss on her neck sighing before pushing up and pulling out of Miranda. Miranda shivered at the loss. As soon as the woman had pulled the other end out of herself and set it on the nightstand Miranda drew the other woman back down to her.

Miranda kissed Andrea gently before drawing back again. "Happy anniversary, darling."

Andrea laughed sleepily. "I think it's a very happy anniversary."

"Best one I have ever had, quite honestly. Thank you. Your gift...I don't even have words."

"Of course, Miranda. I'd do anything for you. I love you." She poked Miranda's side. "Don't think I didn't notice the fact that you took off most of a day just to set this all up and cook me dinner. Thank you for that, really. I would've been happy with just a bouquet of flowers, really."

"Nonsense, you deserve more than that."

Andrea snuggled down into Miranda. "Still."

Miranda wrapped her arms around the girl and sighed, so very content. "Still."

They dozed for a little while before Andrea pushed herself up with a wicked glint in her eye. "It technically still is our anniversary. I think we should celebrate some more."

Miranda laughed and drew Andrea down again, kissing her senseless. Of all the decisions she'd made, Andrea might just be the best.