"Is it because it's an American tradition?" Andy asked, leaning over Emily's desk. "Some proudly British, damn the Yanks sort of thing?"

"No," the first assistant snapped and waved her away as if an annoying wasp was buzzing. "Now bugger off and make yourself useful. Miranda should be back in ten. You ought to already be squeezing your elephant-sized ass into the Starbucks queue by now."

"I will find out," Andy grinned unrepentantly. "I mean how can anyone hate Halloween?"

Emily rolled her eyes spectacularly. "It's a mystery," she sniped. She tapped away at her keyboard then glanced up. "Why are you still here?"

"Right," Andy said, grabbing her coat and purse. "Want anything?"

"As if."

Andy grinned again as she raced out. "I will find out."

Emily's disbelieving snort reached her ears.

Friday drinks night – Halloween as it turned out – was Andy's next attempt at wheedling intel out of her colleague and reluctant friend. Ever since Emily had venomously declared in the office that Halloween was a "hideous, infantile pagan ritual that only the brain-dead think worthy of celebrating", an astonished Andy had made it her mission to find out a reason for her fury. She'd heard Emily vent on many irritating topics, but never with such vitriol.

The redhead's eyes had blazed that day and the only thing silencing her next volley of festive abuse had been a modulated older female voice husked from within the adjacent glass office.

"Emily," Miranda called, "Confirm the girls' costumes will be ready for Friday evening's 'infantile pagan ritual'. That's all."

Andy almost swallowed her tongue to keep from laughing. Emily's face twitched as she squeezed out a hurried: "Yes, Miranda, of course."

And so it came to this - Friday drinks. The book still had an hour to go, and Andy was milking the opportunity to grill her prickly somewhat-friend for all it was worth.

"Did you have some bad experience as a kid?" Andy probed with glee. "Some teen werewolf leap out at you and scar you for life? Ooh, or a fake ax killer with ketchup blood?"

"Hardly," Emily snorted, sipping on some dubious blueish cocktail concoction that had more paper umbrella in it than liquid. "I grew up in a land without such juvenile pastimes as dressing up as violent perpetrators with cleavers hanging from one's head."

"Hmm, so not childhood trauma then," Andy said, thinking, and tapped her lip. She glanced at Nigel for his input but he was barely paying attention, his eyes lit on the form of a shirtless man gyrating on the dance floor. His quarry had vampire teeth and slicked back Dracula hair.

"So what do you think?" she asked him, nudging his ribs with her elbow.

"Hmm?" Nigel asked and sunk the rest of his Jim Beam and plonked it on the bar in a rattle of ice. "I have no idea what you two are discussing," he said as he rose from his stool. "Especially when there are more otherworldy mysteries to be explored."

He gave them an eyebrow waggle then weaved his way to the dance floor. Andy sighed. "Well," she complained, "He's no fun."

"No more than you," Emily grumbled. "You know I only agreed to drinks because you assured me Serena would be here. I most certainly didn't agree to be interrogated over my loathing of a stupid American tradition involving begging, blackmail and bloody bad teeth." She pointed at the vampire charming Runway's art director on the dance floor. His teeth were a little lopsided, it was true.

"OK I get the teeth thing," Andy said, transfixed as 'Dracula' attempted a showy John Travolta chicken strut. "But what about the begging and blackmail?"

"Oh you know – trick or treat," Emily said. "It's implied. One must either furnish begging rug rats with the sugar highs they demand or they threaten to inflict untold damage on one's person or property. It's a wonder Miranda actually endorses it."

She looked so miffed that Andy threw back her head and laughed. "Wait, I get it – Miranda's actually slipped down a peg or two in your eyes because she lets the twins go trick or treating with Cara?"

Emily glared and then mumbled: "I suppose no one's perfect."

Andy chuckled at her appalled expression. "Right, so what are the twins going as anyway? You picked up the costumes, right?"

Emily took another swig of toxic blue before answering. "Some hungry children, I think. From that movie. Catnip or something."

"Katniss? The Hunger Games? Oh sweet. I love that movie. They'll be adorable."

"You have met those two little monsters?" Emily said. "They are anything but adorable. And they've just discovered pea shooters."

Emily's wince suddenly turned to a smile as a woman came up to them. "Serena," she said and then stepped back a little so the statuesque Brazilian make-up artist could languidly fold her legs under the bar stool Nigel had just vacated.

"Sorry to be so late," she said, "There was a make-up issue with one of the models. What are we discussing?"

"Andy thinks Miranda has adorable children," Emily stated with an appalled look. "God help us all when they get to credit card age and can order their mass armaments and claim it's their Fourth Amendment right."

Andy laughed. "Well, Serena, Emily is just deflecting because she won't explain why she has some tortured view on Halloween." Andy waved for the bar tender, quickly ordering a round for her and Serena. Emily was still clutching her blue vapors.

"Ahhh, yes," Serena said knowingly. "I suspect you will not get that story out of her."

"Serena!" Emily protested.

"You know something?" Andy said and swivelled her eyes from Emily to Serena and back. "Come on, how bad could it be? Fake vomit on a designer gown? A gang of ghouls doing Barry Manilow hits down your street?"

Emily folded her arms and glared at them both.

"I don't know," Serena told Andy. "But it is not for lack of anyone asking."

"Not for public consumption," Emily grumbled. "My secret is my secret."

"Well you could tell us," Serena suggested kindly, "Because the more you build it into, how do you say, the mountain - the less it is the molehole."

Emily licked her lips nervously, and Andy tried not to laugh at the blue tongue she got a glimpse of.

Nigel danced back just then, a wiggle of hips and a delighted glow washing his face. "The delicious creature of the night's name is Pablo, we're going for drinks, and he thinks I'm 'quirky'! Which I am hoping is a good thing!" He gave them all a grin. He paused. "Why so glum?" He turned to Emily and lifted an arch eyebrow. "Who died?"

"I just asked why Emily hates Halloween," Andy inserted innocently. "She is keeping deep dark secrets."

Nigel laughed. "Well good luck, Six. Miranda and I have been trying to get that out of her for three years. In fact La Priestly once ordered her entire outer office done in a Halloween theme for 'inspiration for an upcoming spread' she claimed. But I'm convinced she just wanted to make our Emily crack and cough it up."

"I KNEW it!" Emily glared. "All that time! 'Supernatural spread' my ass." She poured a slug of cocktail down her throat and croaked: "Honestly!"

"But she still didn't crack," Nigel added wistfully. "I believe Miranda's probably dying to know, not that she'd ever admit it. So if you find out, Six, fill me in. And then let me fill the boss in. I could use a promotion."

"Fat chance," Emily growled. "Now bugger off on your hot date and try not to look so smug about it."

Nigel waggled his fingers genially. "Right then, that's my cue. Bye ladies."

Emily humphed. "God," she said, "I must be doing something wrong if even bald middle-aged Nigel can pick up a hunk like that in ten minutes. Do I have man repellent on me or something?"

Andy snuck a look at Serena's strangled expression.

God, those two. One clueless, the other in love and so, so patient to the point of ridiculous.

Hmm. She wished she could fix this. Actually she could fix a couple of things if she just took a risk. She weighed things up carefully.

"OK, then," Andy said and cleared her throat, straightening on her stool. "Emily, I know it's unfair to ask you your big secret while getting nothing in exchange. So – I have a proposal. Serena and I both put our biggest secrets out there, and in exchange you share your Halloween horror story. Does that sound fair?"

She slid a glance at Serena who looked intrigued. Their eyes met, and the knowingness at what Andy had just done, the opportunity it presented, made Serena's generous lips curve into a smile. She gave Andy a tiny nod.

"What an excellent idea," the Brazilian said. She reached for her wine and took a slow thoughtful sip.

"It is?" Emily peered at her in surprise. "B-but – I mean Sachs could admit to accidentally running over a bunny or something. Her secret could be as useless as her carb-laden diet."

Serena flicked another glance at Andy. "Well then I would say that we will go first and if you feel our secrets are big enough to warrant being swapped for your Halloween one, then and only then, shall you share yours."

"Right," Emily said, "So I can hear your biggest secrets and still choose to not share mine at the end?" She looked far too hopeful.

"Yes," Serena said reasonably, "That is true. But Emily I know you, and you are a woman of honor. I like to believe you wouldn't do that to us if we play fair with you."

Emily's face fell. "Are you sure this is a good idea? I'd hate for you to …" She petered out and fingered the condensation trails down her glass "change your opinion of me."

"Not possible," Serena reassured her. "We are all in this together, no? All taking the very same plunge?"

Andy nodded. "And if you're worried, we could add the stipulation no one can tease anyone for what is divulged tonight."

Emily snorted. "You just want me to stop calling you fat."

"Please," Andy snickered, "That's like asking Miranda to speak up so we can hear her. Some things go against the laws of nature. I just meant we all promise to not be mean or mock each other in regards to our secrets. Right?"

There was a pause as eyes regarded each other. Finally Serena and Emily both nodded.

Andy cleared her throat. "OK, my idea, so I'll go first. Uh… Last week when I delivered the book, I kissed Miranda. And I do mean kissed her. On the lips, with feeling. I think I may have also put my hand on her ass. Well, it is a very nice ass. But it all happened so fast, I'm not really sure."

Serena and Emily's eyes both bugged out.

"What? Bollocks, you're lying!"

"Andy!" Serena gasped. "You finally told her?"

Andy nodded shyly.

"Told her what? What are you two on about?" Emily demanded.

"I told her I had feelings for her and then I kissed her. Possibly, ah, with ass stroking. It's a little fuzzy. But she's so, God, so Miranda. And she raised her sexy as hell eyebrows at me and I found I couldn't not."

Serena beamed with delight and pulled her into a spontaneous hug. "You are a brave one, Andy. I always suspected there was something more going on there."

"What in hell did Miranda do next?" Emily asked, eyes still wide with shock. She clenched her glass in a white-knuckled grip.

"Now that would be a second secret," Andy said serenely and waggled her finger at her. "And our deal was for one a-piece."

"Bloody hell. Well then," Emily turned to Serena. "You'll have a hard time topping that."

Andy snickered, doubting it. She watched Serena glance at her hands then slip her eyes back up to Emily's.

"Querida," Serena said softly, "I have lacked Andy's courage to act so boldly. But I have a very similar secret."

"Oh no!" Emily gasped in horror. "You don't want to kiss Miranda, too?"

"No, no," Serena said. "Not Miranda."

She leaned forward and whispered, "Someone else has my heart. May I?"

Emily seemed astonished but then her head gave the faintest, shakiest nod, and Serena's lips closed on hers. The kiss was over in mere seconds, but the intent had been made clear. Serena sat back and nervously looked at the redhead.

"I-I think I may have to process that some more," Emily said, looking at Serena in shock. "I, um, I mean, I had no idea. But you kiss well, um, really well," she added, her cheeks warming. "God!" She shook her head and glared at them.

"Oh bollocks, I hate you both right now," she said lifting her hands to cup her flaming cheeks. "Because those were bloody good secrets – and I always honor my promises.

"So, I…" she continued hesitantly, "Right. Well I hate Halloween because of something that happened when I started work at Runway. My look was a bit different to what it is now."

She gestured towards her eyes, with their dramatic and bold make-up that no one could forget. Today it was purple eye shadow with crimson streaks and heavy mascara. A charcoal eyeliner pencil on her lower lids added highlights.

"I had a softer look," Emily said anxiously. "I suppose it'd be called 'ingénue' today. I was fresh off the plane from London and I still worshipped Kate Moss's look.

"Anyway I wanted to get Miranda's attention and impress her with my fashion knowledge, but she'd barely even looked at me. Even after a month as her second assistant I doubt she could have picked me out in a police line-up to save her life.

"One day, the day before Halloween, I heard the clackers talking about how Miranda loves Halloween and they were debating what costumes to wear for it. I panicked – I was supposed to get dressed up for this big tradition and no one had told me!

"So I decided to go as a less obvious Catwoman, with black leather pants, 6in heels, and a really tight stitched Gautier corset top. Then I did my make-up as garishly as I could, over-emphasizing everything, you know, to be dramatic. Like a matinee, vampy villainess."

Andy and Serena held their breaths as Emily took a shaky breath. "I went into work all tarted up only to find it wasn't a bleeding dress-up day at all. Turns out the clackers were talking about some lunch event they had to attend. And there I was done up to the nines like some creepy bordello extra. I was completely humiliated. I would have gone home to change but just then Miranda arrived.

"She walked past me then stopped and backtracked and stared. And stared some more. I was praying the floor would open up. And then she said: 'So bold for one so young. Taking risks with your appearance is acceptable, especially here, Emily. But don't overdo the ensemble'. She swished a hand vaguely over my outfit. Then she went into her office.

"I just sat there. She had not understood I was dressed for Halloween. In really bad villain drag. Miranda Bloody Priestly thought it was my new look. I was completely thrown.

"The next day I came in dressed in my normal outfit and usual soft make-up. She took one look at me, pursed her lips and shook her head. She said: 'One day and already your courage has failed you? How disappointing'. Then she peered over glasses at me and clucked like I was some stupid kid.

"So that was it. She bloody well blackmailed me into it – dress the way she wanted or be mocked for cowardice. So every day since I have had to drag my ass into work, wearing an obscene amount of make-up, hating every bit of it, avoiding mirrors, and all because the world's top fashion editor didn't pick that I was in a flaming Halloween outfit!"

"Oh my god," Andy gasped. "So this look isn't even you?"

"Of course it bloody isn't," Emily snapped. "I'm English! And you think I like my eyes looking like a deranged boxer after nine rounds? I don't even recognize myself anymore."

"Oh querida," Serena said. "I'm so sorry. You must come by my studio tomorrow and I can work on a new look with you – one you don't hate so much but that Miranda will approve of."

Emily blinked at her. "That's it? That's all you have to say? I admit I'm a complete fashion fraud who sold her soul simply to please her boss and you just smile at me?"

"What would you have me say?" Serena asked in confusion.

"Oh my god," Emily huffed. "You're … so damned nice." A smile took any edge away. "Really nice," Emily whispered. She reached for Serena's hand and added: "Thank you." She exhaled. "I've been hating myself for so long and now I'm just so fucking relieved."

They stared at each other for too long until Andy felt the urge to politely cough.

Emily flicked her eyes at Andy and dropped her hand from Serena's. "As for YOU! To think I thought your secret would be vanilla. Oh. My. God."

Andy grinned. "Us Midwestern girls have plenty of layers."

"Well," Emily sniffed, "I suppose the fact you're still her second assistant says she didn't exactly hate what you did."

Andy eyed her from under her lashes and admitted nothing.

"And, it's true, her ass is excellent," Emily conceded as though it pained her greatly. "I understand this from an aesthetic point of view, you understand, and not because of … Well. Although what she sees in you, I can't imagine! And as for anything else you two are doing ... Just - Oh my God."

Andy shrugged. "Who said she said yes to what I offered?" Her phone buzzed a text alert at that moment and she bent down to look at it.

"You are walking without a limp, Andy, so that tells me plenty," Emily retorted and followed the second assistant's eyes to the phone.

Andy blushed hotly as she read the message.

"Um, the book's ready," she lied smoothly, unable to quite believe what Miranda had just playfully proposed. Oh my god indeed.

"Sure it is," Emily said, examining Andy's color. She groaned as another thought occurred. "The worst part of all this is that you made me promise not to mock you for your secret. Honestly, woman, could you stop making it so hard?"

Andy grinned and she texted agreement back to Miranda. Halloween treat time? Most definitely yes. She'd bring the chocolate whip.

"Come on, Serena, let's go," Emily huffed, "I'm sure there's somewhere or someone Andy would rather be doing right now."

Andy snickered and glanced up, grabbing her coat. "I can neither confirm nor deny. But thanks for coming for drinks. Oh and by the way," she added and gave a Emily a grin, "Happy Halloween."

"Ridiculous nonsense," Emily sniffed, also rising from her bar stool, snagging Serena's arm seemingly without even thinking, and patting it warmly. "Really. Just begging, blackmail and bad teeth."