Part 8

By the time the Sach's reach the Mirror's building, they found it surrounded by reporters.

Andy looks at her parents before saying, "Let me handle this."

As she steps out of the back of Miranda's car, she's bombarded with questions.

The savvy young reporter holds up a hand before saying, "Come on, guys one at a time. You know how this works."

The crowd grows more docile as they recall that she is one of them, after all.

She points to a female journalist from the Times who she knew had a reputation for dealing more in facts than supposition.

"The Mayor says your story is, and I quote, "Horse Shit."

Andy's laugh is so sudden and unexpected that all around her, including the reporter who asked the question, can't help but laugh along.

"Well, if I were caught red-handed, I'd dip my hand in whatever was handy." She responds, drawing another round of laughter.

"We'll be running something in the late edition that will speak to the Mayor's denials," she follows up, generating a fresh round of questions.

When one of the reporters had the nerve to ask her what they would be reporting, she gives him a Miranda worthy glare shutting him up instantly.

She turns away from the man, Miranda would have referred to as an imbecile, but is hit with more variations of the same question.

She gives them a couple of stock lines about protecting the integrity of her blah blah blah until they finally get the picture.

She does answer a few more intelligent questions that focus more on the process than anything else.

Just as she is about to wrap up her little sidewalk press conference, a question comes from an unexpected source.

"Any truth to the rumor you're dating Miranda Priestly?"

She looks at the man trying to place the face.

"Well, that's a non-sequitur," she says, stalling for time.

"Is that a denial Andy," he follows up.

"I don't know what it is. It's as if you had asked me if I was dating Neil Armstrong or Kareem Abdul Jabbar. Why should I respond to something so out of left field."

Andy is proud of herself for that one until the penny drops.

"Oh, Shit; He's with TMZ," Andy thinks while maintaining her composure.

The man smiles back at her, and Andy knows he has more.

He holds his phone, showing her an image of herself and Miranda sharing a kiss not twenty minutes ago.

"Does that provide the context you were looking for, Ms. Sachs."

His attempt at civility tells her one thing; they've got the goods so they can be magnanimous.

"Well, shit," Andy thinks.

Miranda sits behind her desk with a smile on her face. Having accomplished a critical task that morning, she is, in reality, quite pleased with herself.

Satisfaction turns to downright smugness when she recollects the entirety of her accomplishments just since last night's dinner.

She got the girl, handled unexpected first contact with said girl's parents, and even turned her future mother-in-law from enemy to ally.

"And, don't forget the ravishing," She thinks before suppressing the girlish giggle, suddenly bubbling up her throat.

She reaches into her pocket so she can lay hands on the slip of paper nestled there. The note was a physical manifestation of a love that was unlike anything she'd ever experienced.

Everything was different with Andy, with her she was free to be herself. In fact, she'd felt more like herself than the entire time she'd been married to either of her previous husbands.

With Andy, she was always enough and, more importantly, never too much. Even when she was at her most La Priestly, the young woman just refused to take her rants seriously.

No, that was wrong, she would take her seriously while ignoring all the bullshit that sometimes came out of her mouth.

Unlike what most people thought, even at her most unreasonable Miranda was always fully self-aware. Sometimes she just found herself incapable of stopping.

In her previous relationships, when she was in such a state, she'd stay at work and take her anger out on her staff.

Now when she was at her bitchiest, all she wanted was to be with Andy, knowing the young woman's mere presence had a calming effect on her.

For someone who'd spent their whole life proving that she needed no one, except her daughters, Miranda could admit she needed Andy. What was more interesting was that she didn't resent the young woman for the power that gave her. Instead, she just appreciates that Andy always makes time for her and does it with a smile reserved only for her.

A knock on the frame of her door pulls her out of her reverie. She looks up to see a familiar face darkening her doorway.

"Nigel Kipling, as I live and breath.

"What brings you to my office this early in the day?"

Nigel checks his watch and gives her a curious look. He went to open his mouth but thinks better of it having discovered long ago that when it came to the enigmatic woman, you just went with it.

Instead, he steps into her office and takes a chair without waiting for an invitation.

"So you and Six, huh."

Miranda rolls her eyes at the odd nickname. Despite what people in this building, herself included, said about Andy's weight, the young woman had always been a perfectly healthy weight. She just had curves,

"In all the best places," Miranda thinks, recalling a perfectly acceptable previous evening.

To her guest, she says, "Yes, Nigel, Andy and I are a couple and have been since shortly after my divorce became official."

Nigel's eyes widened for a moment before he can attempt to hide his surprise. It wasn't just how long they'd been together, but it was Miranda's willingness to share that caught the Art Director off guard.

He'd known Miranda for a very long time, but he could not remember a time where she spoke so plainly and openly about a personal relationship.

He'd only found out about her marriage to Stephen when she revealed they'd initiated the doomed marriage during a holiday in the Bahamas.

"I take it, It's serious then," Nigel probes feeling the need to push his mercurial boss's boundaries a bit further.

"I had actually asked for Andy's hand in marriage shortly before you saw us yesterday, but I insisted that she take time to consider my proposal before giving me her answer."

Nigel almost rolls his eyes, that was just so Miranda.

"She accepted, of course," she adds, smug smirk returning to her face.

"Of course," Nigel agrees, giving the woman her due.

"So when's the wedding?"

"Andy's mother and I discussed scheduling during breakfast this morning. It would seem that a wedding during the interregnum between Thanksgiving and Christmas will suit our purposes.

Expect to see an invitation with the precise details soon."

Nigel is unable to hide his surprise this time. He removes his glasses before cleaning them with his handkerchief.

He puts the glasses back on, then looks at her with fresh eyes.

What he sees is a different woman from the one he's known for more years than he cares to count.

He realizes to his great shame, that even he had fallen for the glamor the woman wore so well.

Now, sitting in this office looking at the real Miranda, he is filled with a kind of wonder that felt restorative.

"If Miranda Priestly could be transformed by love, then there's hope for us all," he thinks but has the good sense not to verbalize.

"I look forward to the day," He says earnestly, dropping his own mask of feigned indifference.

"And, I am genuinely happy for the both of you; I hope you know that."

"I am well aware that I can continue to count on your friendship and counsel.

I may not have always shown it, but I have always valued both."

Nigel can't speak for a moment, touched by her heartfelt words.

He has to wonder how much of this transformation was due to the influence of one Andy Sachs.

He'd seen changes during her previous marriage, but not in a good way. She'd adopted far too many of Stephen's less desirable qualities, including a raw ambition that led her to a near-disastrous confrontation Irv.

Thinking back to the events of Andy's one and only Paris Fashion Week, he has to wonder how much the young woman had done to ensure things turned out best for all of them.

His thoughts were interrupted when Angela announces the arrival of Jocelyn and the rest of the staff.

A quick check of his Patek Philippe made him smile as he realizes Miranda has moved the run-through up by two hours.

His smile only lasts until the first time Miranda purses her lips. Despite outward appearances, Nigel is still smiling on the inside, knowing that some things never changed.

The run-through, unsurprisingly, goes downhill fast, causing Miranda to react accordingly.

What is surprising is that Nigel can't detect in real bite behind Miranda's scathing critiques.

"And, that's the difference," He belatedly realizes. This was all a show, a show that matters, as Amy would soon learn if she did not tighten up her act, but it was a show nonetheless.

So he sat back and enjoyed the show comfortable in the fact that he was well prepared for his part.

Mercifully the run-through ends before any actual blood is spilled, leaving the two of them alone once again.

He isn't sure if she is still in the sharing mood after that debacle, but he figures it's worth a shot.

Before he can test his hypothesis, Angela pops her head through the door, looking positively ashen.

"Well, girl, spit it out," Miranda prompts, displaying her customary lack of patience.

Angela starts to speak, but no words escape her mouth.

She clears her throat before trying again, "There is a story on Page Six with photographs of you and a young woman they're dubbing the Devil's Mistress."

Nigel looks at Angela, not quite believing she had the stones to say the words "Devil's Mistress," aloud.

He turns back to his boss, waiting for the explosion to come.

Instead, Miranda throws her head back, laughing raucously.

Miranda goes for her keyboard, and he is sure she is bringing up Page Six.

Without thinking, Nigel walks behind her and begins to read over Miranda's shoulder.

"New York Mirror Reporter Andrea "Andy" Sachs, seen here in a heated embrace with our own Prada-wearing devil."

Despite the headline, Nigel is pleasantly surprised to find the words below to be mostly positive.

The article had its share of snark but somehow lacked the usual cynicism often found in articles about Miranda.

Perhaps it was the inclusion of one of their own, assuming the denizens of Page Six consider themselves journalists. Still, If Nigel didn't know any better, they sounded genuinely happy for the newly outed couple.

"We can't wait to see if the gorgeous Ms. Sachs turns up on the arm of the sharp-tongued Queen of Fashion on the red carpet during next week's Met Gala.

With a theme like Revival, we believe this third act may be the best of them all."

"You couldn't have paid for publicity that good," Nigel concludes, thinking the story read like a ringing endorsement by Page Six standards.

"Well, it is good to know that my P.R. Firm still earns their money."

"You did this?" Nigel asks, reeling from all the revelations.

"Not exactly. We were tipped that the story was about to break, so I may have authorized Leslie to tip them off about where we were having breakfast this morning.

And, I may not have given a damn that they were there at the time they got that shot."

"In exchange for good coverage," Nigel speculates.

"There was no explicit quid pro quo, just a carrot," Miranda corrects.

Nigel has to laugh at that little understatement, knowing Miranda herself was the stick had this enterprising reporter chosen a different path.

" Is Andy's family aware of your relationship?" Nigel asks while retaking his seat.

"As of yesterday, but that was a bit of a surprise. And a story for another day," she adds before he can formulate a follow-up.

"Does Andy know the story broke?" Nigel asks instead.

Miranda winces as she realizes that with all that happened in the past twenty-four hours, this little detail slipped her mind.

She reaches for her phone just as a two-word text flashes on her screen.

"They Know."

Miranda can easily imagine the panicked state Andy is in right now. She also presumes that her panic has everything to do with how Andy believes her girlfriend will react and nothing to do with concerns for her own career or reputation.

She asks Nigel for a moment alone. He quickly agrees, closing the door on his way out.

Miranda looks down at her phone, before selecting Andy's number form her favorite's list, then initiating the call.

"Hey," Andy says, and Miranda can clearly hear the worry dripping from her fiancée's voice.

"Hey, yourself," Miranda responds, keeping her tone light.

"Ah, did you get my text?" Andy inquires.

"I did, but it was a little vague," she says, unable to stop herself from teasing the younger woman just a bit.

"A reporter asked me about us, and I didn't want to deny it, but I..."

"Calm yourself, Andrea," Miranda says, letting a little of the dragon slip into her tone.

Her words have the intended effect as she hears Andy take a deep breath before explaining what happened at the end of her impromptu press conference.

"Have you seen the story?" Miranda questions.

"No, I came straight up to my floor, stashed by parents in my cubicle, then came into Erica's office so that I could talk to you in private."

"The coverage was rather positive," Miranda points out.

"Really," Andy says.

Miranda swallows, wishing she'd remembered to have this conversation last night.

"Well, it is possible that Leslie received a call from a source yesterday informing her that a story about us would be running eminently.

It is also possible that she, with my permission, tipped them off about our breakfast outing."

The line is quiet for a moment as Andy digests Miranda's words.

The laugh that comes from the other end of the line tells the editor all she needed to know.

"You never cease to amaze me. To think I spent all day yesterday, worrying that our possible outing would drive you away, and you go and out us all on your own.

You, my dear, are a wonder."

Andy's words cause a smile to break out on Miranda's face.

"I don't know about a wonder; there are only seven in the known world after all," Miranda quips.

This time Andy's laugh is unbridled.

"And that is why I'm going to marry you," Andy says once she has her laughter under control.

"You damn right, you're marrying me," Miranda confirms in a tone that makes it clear that there were no take-backsies allowed.

"How do you want to handle the press moving forward?" Andy asks.

"I have people who speak on my behalf. I do not particularly enjoy speaking to the press, present company excluded."

"Sweet talker," Andy says, enjoying the back and forth.

"As for you, feel free to say whatever you want to whomever you wish about our relationship.

I should have made that abundantly clear from the moment my divorce was finalized, and I apologize for not giving you the latitude to inform your family about our relationship."

"To be honest, It was my choice not to tell my parents."

Miranda doesn't speak as old insecurities attempt to take root.

Before that can happen, Andy continues, "I was just so wrapped up in the fact that there was an us, that I didn't want to let anyone except your girls into our bubble.

I was afraid that speaking the words out loud would make all of this go away."

"Silly girl," Miranda thinks.

What she says is, "The only thing that could make me go away, darling, is if I were chasing you."

"I love you too, sweetie," the younger woman says, and Miranda can hear the smile on Andy's face.

"And I, you.

And, before Christmas, I am going to stand in front of our friends and family and tell all of them so."

Andy sniffs, a little as happy tears begin to fall.

AN: I reread this story recently and was shocked and a little embarrassed to see that I had not updated this story since February. All I can do is say that I'm sorry it has taken this long and that It won't be that long for the final two or three parts.