AN: As always I own nothing that is theirs and everything that is mine.

Miranda got to the apartment early. This was new and she wanted to make sure she got everything right. She had not cooked for a lover in their space in maybe thirty years or maybe never she reconsidered. She unpacked all the groceries then began rummaging through familiar cabinets retrieving all the items she would need for tonight's meal.

She liked this apartment perhaps more than her own home. It had a better view for certain and the design felt fresh to her. The kitchen was no exception, it featured several nice architectural touches and a layout perfect for cooking. A quick check of her watch indicated that she was right on schedule. As she pulled out a cutting board and a sharp knife she briefly wondered if it belonged to the ex-boyfriend. She tried not to think about her lovers' former lovers but sometimes it was difficult not to. She had never been a jealous person per say but this time, as in many other aspects, was proving to be different. As a mental exercise while she continued to chop she began listing all the other ways things were different about this relationship.

1. Her lover was younger. Her eye had been drawn to any number of younger attractive people over the years but for some reason, she always gravitated to the more mature options, but not this time obviously.

2. Love at first site. She never believed in such a thing and if asked at the time when they met she would have denied it even to herself. With the fullness of time there was no question the second the young woman had entered her office she'd been smitten.

3. She's a she. Now that the cat is out of the bag she must admit that she's probably been bi-sexual all of her life. Only in the deepest recess of her mind can she admit the number of times she came imagining the swell of a breast or that place where side meets hip and then continues to the curve of the ass. So despite having never dated another woman lets just say that her pump was well primed when the opportunity finally presented herself.

4. She's girlie around her. This one she can barely admit to herself but she knows it's true. She makes her feel free and uninhibited like when she was younger. She makes me giggle. The dragon lady giggles.

5. I put her needs ahead of my own. Not all the time mind you, Mother Teresa I am not. What she is a consciouses lover and a good friend.

6. I am proud of her. More important than you would think. She's impressed with her work ethic, with how she handles personal interactions, and with how she handles me.

7. I respect her. This is the crux of it all. My respect is not easily given yet she has earned every ounce of it. Standing up to me and telling me I'm wrong in a way that shows she loves and respects me is like flying a plane through the eye of a needle. Seemingly impossible but that is my Andrea's stock-in-trade.

Her musings are cut short as the oven beeps. Time to put in the bread and start the pasta. Several minutes later she's got the eggplant in the oven, the red wine is breathing and the bread and pasta are well on their way to completion. She pours herself a glass and takes a sip.

"I'm glad that I can afford good wine," she thinks as the Shiraz goes down smoothly.

She's about to take another sip when there's a knock on the door. She takes her glass over unlocks the door then moves back into the kitchen. If she had a dollar for every time Andrea misplaced her keys they could both retire. She takes another sip of wine then gives the sauce a stir.

"Where did you leave your keys this time," She says without looking up.

When Andrea doesn't answer she looks up and just manages to hold on to her wine glass. Staring back at her are Andrae's parents looking quite confused.

"Well shit," she thinks as the older couple continues to stare at her.

"Luckily I like leftovers so there's enough food for the four of us," she says because she can't think of anything else to say.

"I'm sorry I thought this was our daughter's apartment," Andrea's mother says.

Her father is quiet but has this look like a dog trying to do algebra.

She almost snorts with laughter at the unkind but accurate description. She knows this is Andreas's influence on her at work.

She blanks her features before saying, "Andrea rather Andy is running a little late tonight but she should be home shortly."

Miranda is trying to keep things vague but knows that it won't last for long. Andrea obviously was not expecting this visit and her parents aren't expecting any of this. The truth is that this is mostly her fault. Her post-divorce paranoia led her to ask Andrea not to tell everyone about their relationship just yet. They had not explicitly talked about not telling her parents but it's now quite obvious that Andrea included them in the all-encompassing everyone.

She suppresses the desire to close her eyes and pinch the bridge of her nose wanting to avoid them misconstruing the gesture.

"Until Andy gets back can I interest you in a glass of wine."

"Dinner is basically done I just have a few finishing touches to complete."

"By the time your daughter returns we should be ready to eat," Miranda offers.

The couple takes a moment of silently communication before deciding to take Miranda up on her offer. Belatedly they all introduce themselves and she can see a spark of recognition take hold in Richard's eyes at hearing Miranda say her first name. She feels eyes track her every movement as she grabs a couple more wine glasses and takes the excellent bottle of Shiraz into Andrea's dining room. She loves the view from the dining room especially at this time of day. She offers them a seat trying to be the dutiful host. She is sure that her comfort in their daughter's apartment is sending up any number of red flags. She pours from the bottle thankful she had the good sense to buy two bottles.

She hands over the glasses and they all take a sip. It's Hanna Sachs who finally breaks the silence.

"So Miranda how do you know our daughter."

Miranda always quick on her feet is able to give a quick answer while keeping things frustratingly vague.

"We use to work together."

"Oh are you a reporter too?" Hanna asks.

"An editor," Miranda corrects.

She can feel Richard's eyes on her but he continues to stay silent.

"Oh, I was the editor for my college newspaper," Hanna adds.

Miranda happy for the distraction, diverts the conversation down that road. She hits a gold mine when she discovers that this was around the time the two of them first met. She listens as Hanna tells the story of meeting Richard at UC Santa Barbara, then how they both went on to graduate school at Stanford. Marrying, moving back to Cincinnati, and stating their family consisting of Andrea, her older brother, and sisters.

"That is fascinating," Miranda says. She wants to hear stories about Andrea as a child but knows that asking may give away more than she wants to. She stays silent leaving a hole in the conversation that Richard decides to fill.

"So Miranda, how did you and Andy meet?"

"Shit, Shit, Shit," she thinks knowing that he likely has some idea of what might be going on.

She lets out the tiniest sigh of relief when the oven timer goes off indicating that the bread and eggplant are ready to come out. She pours them a refill of their wine before excusing herself to attend to dinner. She takes a deep breath as she walks into the kitchen. She checks her watch realizing Andrea should be here at any moment. She looks into Andrea's refrigerator and has never been happier in her life to see a Caesar salad in a bag. While under normal circumstances she would never serve food in a bag, she can't help but thank every deity she can think of for providing her with a stalling tactic. She takes out the salad finds a large bowl and begins dumping the contents. She goes back to the fridge and locates the leftover fresh parmesan and the good bottle of Caesar dressing she'd left here a few weeks ago.

"Can I help with anything," Hanna says causing another near disaster as she just manages to hold on to the cheese grater.

Miranda quickly recovers asking her to set the table. She points out were the good dishes and silverware are stored then resumes making the salad in a bag into something edible.

She lets out a sigh of relief when she hears a key in the door. She cringes slightly when she hears Andrea's voice call out "Honey I'm home."

While she can tell there is a certain amount of playfulness in Andrea's tone, she still is warmed by the feeling domesticity inherent in this whole situation. Andrea comes directly into the kitchen and without hesitation pulls Miranda into a hug taking a handful of Miranda's ass in the process. Miranda melts into the hug feeling the stress of the last minutes drain away.

The clearing of a throat brings the embrace to a premature end. Luckily for all involved, the presence of Andrea's hand on Miranda's ass is obscured by their position.

"Mom, Dad, what are you doing here," Andrea says acting as if she was not cuddling her girlfriend / former boss.

AN: Not sure how long a work this will be but there will be at least one more chapter. I got the idea of this work while reading the excellent Land Fathoms series by chainofclovers. Hope you enjoy and as always comments are appreciated.