Chapter 9

The next morning, Andrea awoke with a jolt, hearing muffled shouting outside the bedroom door. She quickly shook Miranda awake, and she, too, must have been concerned that someone was in the house, seeing that she immediately grabbed her cell, ready to call 9-1-1. "Wait!" Andrea said, listening closely.

"GOOD MORNING! WE'RE AWAKE… AND WALKING AROUND THE HOUSE! PUT YOUR CLOTHES ON, WE'RE COMING DOWNSTAIRS!" she heard as the voice grew nearer.

Miranda softly bit her lower lip as a grin spread across her face. "Cassidy," she said, shaking her head. "Andrea, darling, I'm sorry for the early wake-up call."

"I don't mind," she said. "The earlier we wake up, the more time we have for this," she said as she pounced on Miranda under the sheets, giggling.

"My you are insatiable," she purred, "but I expect there will be knocking at the door in just a few moments—you might be advised to get dressed," Miranda said. Andrea nodded and climbed out of bed, dressing in the clothes she wore last night. Miranda wrapped her robe around herself and sat on the edge of her bed, reading through emails. "James' flight is coming in tonight," Miranda said. "I wonder if—"

"Don't," Andrea interrupted, "they want to spend time with you. Let James take them next weekend or whatever."

"But—" Andrea quickly pressed her finger to Miranda's lips, halting her protests.

"There will be time," Andrea said, "Maybe I'll have to slip some meetings with Alice on your calendar," she added with a wink.

"Andrea?" Miranda said after several minutes of silence, "how do you feel about moving in?"

"Wh—what?!" Andrea choked out. "Moving in? Here?"

"Of course, darling. It would seem to be the most efficient use of our time, and there is plenty of space so you can have several rooms to yourself if you wish," Miranda said.

"I don't know what to say," Andrea said. "Please don't think this has anything to do with you, but…I…I just can't," she said, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Darling," Miranda said, taking her in her arms, "It's okay, I just wanted to know how you felt about it."

"It's not—I really do want to, but to explain to my family where to send my mail—I can't—I just—I'm sorry, Miranda," she cried, burying her face in the woman's soft grey robe.

"Sweetheart, don't apologize," Miranda said as she slowly stroked her back. "We can always keep your apartment, too, if you'd like. No one would have to know it's empty."

"I can't. My parents are visiting next month. There'd be too many questions," she said, sniffling.

"Do your parents not agree with your lifestyle?" Miranda asked quietly, not wanting to upset the young woman.

"No, they disagree with everything I do and everything I am. I—I can't talk about this now," Andrea said. "Actually, I should be going."

"Darling," Miranda said, standing to follow her down the stairs, "please don't be upset. You know you are always welcome here, with us, anytime."

"Thanks," she said as she slipped on her shoes and grabbed her bag from the foyer floor. "I'll call you later," she said, heading onto the porch and closing the door behind her.

Miranda sank down on the stairs, leaning her head against the railing as she stared at the back of the closed door.

"Mom, why did Andy leave?" Cassidy asked.

"Why was she crying, Mom? Did you kick her out?" Caroline said, as both twins stood at the foot of the stairs in front of Miranda.

"No, I did not kick her out. Actually…actually, I gave her the option to move in here," Miranda said, her voice shaky. "I don't know why she left."

"Were you guys arguing?" Caroline asked, joining Miranda on the stair.

"Not really. She became quite emotional when I suggested it would be more efficient for her to live here. She said something about her parents not agreeing with her choices," Miranda said. "Sh—should I go after her?" she asked. I must be going crazy, she thought, here I am, asking my ten-year-old daughter for relationship advice.

"Nah, maybe she just needs time to think. Maybe send her a text so she knows you're still thinking about her and worried," Caroline said.

"Here," Miranda said, handing her daughter her phone, "you do it. I'll just screw it up."

"Aww, Mom, give yourself more credit than that," Cassidy said. "Andy loves you. And she's so gorgeous."

"Thank you?" Miranda replied in confusion.

"Here, just click send," Caroline said, handing the phone back. Without even looking, she sent the message and turned to her girls, "Let's have some breakfast, okay?"

As Andrea exited the subway tunnel, her phone dinged—a new message from Miranda: Darling, don't be upset. I love you. I care about you. We can get through this together—whatever it takes. Call me. -M Tears streamed down her face as she read and reread the message. It was true, Miranda Priestly did care about her, and was willing to do whatever it took to keep her in her life. Andrea knew she needed to call her parents at some point—she had been avoiding their calls for far too long. And if things continued in the direction they were headed, the two would surely end up on Page Six at some point, in which case it would be better to prepare her parents in advance. Sighing, she decided she would answer the next time her mother called.

Once she was back in her apartment, she replied to Miranda's text: Will call you later…just need some time to think. Not upset with you. I love you. -A Once the message was sent, she plugged her phone into the charger and decided to take a long, hot shower.

Despite its intent, the text was not very reassuring to Miranda. "Girls," Miranda called as she finished loading the dishwasher. "Will you be okay if I step out for a few hours?"

"Sure, we have some homework to do anyway," they said.

"Okay," she said, "I'll keep my phone with me if you need anything, and if you can't get in touch with me, call Emily," she added, knowing the redhead would answer no matter what.

Miranda quickly sprinted upstairs, throwing a pair of jeans, riding boots, and a sweater on, and headed out the back door into the garage. Grateful she had Roy program her employee's home addresses into her GPS system. Speeding out of the garage, she headed for Andrea's apartment.

As she knocked on the door to the third-floor unit, she closed her eyes, reminding herself to calm down. "Miranda?" Andrea said, opening the door. "What are you doing here?"

"I don't know," she said, stepping inside as Andrea shut the door behind her. "I was worried. And…I didn't want you to be alone. You don't have to tell me anything," she reassured, "just let me hold you for a while, okay?"

Andrea nodded and motioned for Miranda to follow her to the bedroom. Miranda paused to remove her boots before joining the young woman on the bed, wrapping her arms tightly around her as she gently kissed her head.

"Where are the girls?" Andrea whispered.

"At home, doing homework. They're fine."

Nearly twenty minutes later, Miranda could feel Andrea's breathing had slowed. Burying her face in the young woman's still-damp hair, she sighed. "I've been ignoring my parents' calls," Andrea spoke quietly. "They call every weekend, and they leave messages begging me to come home, telling me they will save me from you and the horrors of New York."

"Why don't you answer?" Miranda asked after several minutes of silence.

"They won't understand. It's not even worth trying."

"What won't they understand? That you're in love with another woman? Or that the woman is me?"

"Both," Andrea said, "All of it. Jesus Christ, you're my boss, Miranda!"

Miranda took several deep breaths before continuing. "I will never ask you to choose between me and your family, darling, and I will still love you no matter what you end up deciding. But," she said, "what are your thoughts on leaving Runway? Would that make it any easier? My friend John—he was actually in my high school class—is the EIC at The New York Mirror, and he just sent me a note that he's looking for an Assistant Editor. I was thinking of recommending Trisha, but you, of course, would be an ideal candidate, too. Just a thought."

Several minutes later, Andrea turned around in Miranda's arms, her face mere inches from Miranda's own. "How would you feel if the press found out about us?" Andrea asked, her eyes brimming with tears.

Miranda reached up and cupped her cheek, "I would be worried they would taunt you, hurt you, write cruel things about you," Miranda said.

"What about you, or the girls, or Irv?"

"The girls adore you, and would just be upset with me for letting those vultures write about you. Irv can fuck himself for all I care."

"And you? Don't you care what people will think if it's suddenly revealed that your lesbian lover is half your age?" Andrea asked.

"No, I don't care. Is that what you're worried about?" she asked. "Oh darling," Miranda pulled Andrea closer.

"But you always try to keep it a secret," Andrea said, "I have to wait until after Emily delivers the book and everything."

"Darling, I lead a very public life, despite my attempts to keep things private. I know how difficult it can be, and I've seen what it's done to my relationships, friendships…I won't let that happen to you. The last hurdle was telling the girls, and well, after last night and tonight, I see that they are accepting." She paused for a few moments before adding, "This is all very new to me, you must realize. I don't think I've ever been in a relationship like this."

"I love you so much, Miranda," she said, burying her face in the woman's neck. "Oh, and before I forget, I think that position at The Mirror would be a great opportunity and I would love to be considered."

"Wonderful. I will send John a note this evening, so you have a bit of time to pull your portfolio or whatever together for him. This will be a great opportunity for you, darling," she said as she softly began stroking the young woman.

"For us," Andrea corrected. "I won't be there to take care of you during the day, but we'll figure something out."

"We will," Miranda said as she continued exploring Andrea's body, her hand gently moving down her thigh, circling her knee, then back up the inside of her leg. "And let's just forget I suggested living together. You're still welcome at the townhouse anytime, but I kind of like having the option of visiting you here," she said.

"Ohhhhh," Andrea gasped, her body overcome with emotion between Miranda's scent, the sound of her voice, and the movement of her arms. "Uuh!" she gasped as Miranda's fingertips danced around her trembling wet sex.

"Andrea," Miranda whispered, hot breath against her ear, "come for me. I'm here, I've got you."

Several minutes later, Andrea leaned over and kissed Miranda gently on the lips. "I would have never dreamed that an embrace could be so intimate, so satisfying," she said.

"I wish I could stay here and explore your body forever, but the girls are at home by themselves," she said.

"I know," she said, pulling herself up on the bed. "If they're still interested, I can swing by tonight and we can walk to the park together."

"I'm sure that will be fine. Would you mind if I stayed home? I really need to spend some time reviewing the DVF spread—I'm afraid we will have to reshoot because honestly, most of the photos cannot be used," she said.

"Of course, as I said, I was looking forward to spending time with the girls."

"Thank you," Miranda said, "you are so good to them. At some point, I do want to continue our conversation concerning your parents, okay?"

"Maybe I should just tell them to call you," Andrea said as she walked into the kitchen.

"Yes, please do," Miranda said, following Andrea out of the bedroom.

"No! I was kidding. I—I need to talk to them eventually," she said.

"And we'll talk about that later," Miranda said, wrapping her arms around the woman. "I'll see you later tonight—would you like me to prepare dinner or do you think you'd like to take the girls for something quick?"

"I'll be over about an hour early, so the girls and I can grab something to eat before the movie. Is that okay?"

"Perfect," Miranda said. "See you later, darling."

"Bye, thank you for coming by," Andrea said, leaning on the door as Miranda headed down the hallway. Shutting the door, she crawled back into her bed, burying her face in the pillow where Miranda had just been laying.

Later that evening, Andrea was on the subway, heading to Miranda's, when her phone rang. Without thinking, she answered, cursing herself as she heard her mom's voice on the other end. "Hi, Mom, I'm on the subway right now so it's not a good connection," she said.

"Oh, honey, I can hear you just fine. Are you going out with your friends tonight?"

"Yeah," Andrea said, "We're going to see a movie in Central Park."

"Ohh, that's wonderful. Maybe you can meet a nice young man. But listen, the reason I was calling—your father and I were just watching Nightline and there is this story about these young football players from Steubenville—have you heard about this in New York?"

"Uh, I think I saw it in the headlines, but I didn't look into it. Is it someone we know?" Andrea asked, somewhat disinterested, but thankful her mother was talking about something other than how disappointed she was in her daughter.

"No, but Aunt Judy still teaches History there, and knew these kids. Two promising football players were just sentenced to time in jail for sexually assaulting a young girl at a party after their game. Everyone was drinking, and this young girl had passed out, and everyone was taking videos and posting them online—that's how the boys were caught."

"Oh my god, that's awful," Andrea said, her journalistic nature suddenly kicking in. "Was the girl okay? Did they rape her?"

"Yes, she's okay, but staying out of the news and not doing interviews. They didn't rape her, but they took turns sticking their fingers inside her—isn't that just disgusting? And here in Ohio, that counts as sexual assault. Honestly, I don't know where the girls' parents were, letting her go to a party like that."

Andrea's jaw dropped as she listened to her mother go on. "Mom? You're fading. I can't hear you—I'll talk to you later, love you," she said, promptly hanging up the phone.

It was strange, how much she had grown in the past two years. She was so different from her parents, had different values and views of the world, but it wasn't until situations like this where she actually understood just how differing their opinions were. And the tone of her mother's voice when she said what the boys did was "disgusting" made it clear that it wasn't the situation, but the act itself of which her mother did not approve. Was she never fingered? Andrea wondered, quickly clearing her mind before she had any other thoughts of her mother's sex life.

She pulled her phone back out and quickly dialed Miranda's number.

"Andrea?"

"Hey, do you have a minute to talk?"

"Yes, of course. I thought you were on your way here."

"I am, but I can't say this in front of the girls. Miranda, I want your fingers inside of me so badly right now, it's taking all of my self control to keep from relieving myself here on the Q."

"Oh, darling, don't do that!" Miranda said, "You realize there are pedophiles and disgusting men who ride the subway, right? What brought this on?"

"I talked to my mom."

"Oh really? I think you'll need to explain the connection here."

"She was telling me about this incident near my hometown, where some kids were convicted of sexual assault for fingering a drunk girl," Andrea said, "and then she told me how disgusting she thought it was to have their fingers there."

"And that naturally led you to think of me fingering you, or sexually assaulting you if we're in Ohio?" Miranda asked.

"Uh-huh."

"Well, hurry here, and be quiet when you come in. I'll be waiting for you in the downstairs bathroom."

"Okay, see you soon," she said, hanging up.

Six minutes later, Andrea was letting herself into the townhouse, tiptoeing as she made a beeline to the bathroom and shutting the door behind her. Miranda was on her knees, waiting for Andrea to arrive. Andrea quickly unbuttoned her jeans and Miranda slid them, along with her underwear, down her legs. "Sit," Miranda said, pushing the young girl back gently onto the small decorative bench against the wall.

As soon as Andrea sat, Miranda pushed her legs as far apart as they would go with her jeans around her ankles and leaned forward, moaning as she pressed her lips to the young woman's slick folds. "Mmm," she hummed, "So wet…for me…mmmm." Releasing her folds from her lips, Miranda quickly thrust two fingers inside her pulsating core. "Darling, is this what you wanted?" Miranda asked, looking up at Andrea, her lips and chin shimmering with come. Andrea knew she needed to be silent, so she simply nodded as Miranda continued. "You wanted me to fuck you with my fingers? Mmm, darling, I only wish I could make you scream right now," she said, lowering her lips once again to take in her tiny bud.

Andrea reached down and held Miranda's head in place while she felt her muscles contracting around Miranda's fingers. Slowly, Miranda pulled her fingers away, licking them and savoring Andrea's taste. Miranda stood, washed her hands, then pulled a washcloth from the cabinet and ran it under warm water before wiping her face. She wrang it out, then squatted in front of Andrea again, gently wiping any residue of her fluids from her body. With a dry cloth, she dabbed at any excess moisture.

"I'm glad your mother called you," Miranda said, the corner of her lips turning upward.

Andrea rolled her eyes and stood, pulling her underwear and jeans up with her. "Thank you," she said, leaning in and kissing her silver-haired lover.

"Andrea, you do not need to thank me, it was truly my pleasure."

"Well, thank you for cleaning up…I…it was unexpected."

"Of course," Miranda said. "I'm going to slip out and go find the girls, okay?" Andrea nodded, and Miranda opened the door.

"See! I told you they were in there!" Cassidy shouted.

Miranda immediately retreated into the bathroom, leaning up against the closed door. "Oh god, now what?" she said.

"Hey, the girls aren't stupid. They saw us last night, and at least we tried to get some privacy this time, right?" Andrea said, taking Miranda's hands and slowly pulling her away from the door. Andrea opened the door, holding tightly onto Miranda's hand, knowing her instinct would send her flying upstairs without an explanation.

"Mom, Andy? What's wrong?" Caroline said.

"Nothing, sweetie. I guess we just didn't realize we had an audience again," Andrea said.

"Oh, that. Sorry," Cassidy said. "I was watching out the window upstairs and saw you come in, but when I came downstairs, I just heard whispering in the bathroom."

"At least we didn't have to see anything this time!" Caroline teased.

"Girls," Andrea said, "I don't think your mother appreciates being teased." Miranda blushed and Andrea leaned over and kissed her softly on the cheek. "Are you two ready to go?"

"Yep!" "Yeah!" they replied.

"Bye, Mom," Cassidy said, stepping closer and wrapping her arms around her mother. Caroline followed, and Miranda kissed each of her daughters on the head before they headed towards the front door.

"Andrea, do not let them out of your sight," Miranda said. "And if you see anyone suspicious or—"

"Cut it out, Mom," Caroline said. "We'll be fine."

"I promise you that the three of us will return safely," Andrea added. "I'll even text you when we're getting food, when we find a spot, and then when we're on our way home, okay?"

Miranda nodded and Andrea smiled. "I love you," she mouthed silently as the girls dragged her towards the front door.

"You too," Miranda mouthed in reply before the three people she cared most about in the entire world strolled out the front door.

Around 10:30pm, Andrea and the girls returned to the townhouse. Andrea had been texting Miranda all evening, which had a calming effect on her and allowed her to focus on the DVF photos.

"Okay, Bobbseys, make sure you thank Andrea, then get upstairs to bed. Your father wants to take you to dinner tomorrow night since he got home a little earlier than he thought," Miranda said.

The girls nodded, kissed Miranda, then trudged upstairs to bed. "Did you have a good time?" Miranda asked, leading Andrea into the kitchen.

"Yes, and here," she said, handing Miranda a milkshake, "we got this for you on the way home."

"Did all of you have ice cream?"

"No, we really went there to get one for you, but we each tasted a few flavors. I tried a Guinness-beer flavored one, and cherry-bleu-cheese. The Guinness was gross, but the other one tasted like cheesecake. Yours is a lavender mint shake made with skim milk," she said. "I, uh, figured you didn't eat dinner."

Miranda smiled at her thoughtfulness, "No, you're right. I was so caught up in work again. Thank you."

"So the girls are going to be with James tomorrow evening?" Andrea asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

"Yes. To whatever you're thinking," Miranda said with a grin as she enjoyed her milkshake.

Andrea laughed, "What time should I come over?"

"How about 5:35?" she asked.

"I'll be here."

"Thank you again, Andrea, for spending time with the girls tonight. I think you can see how they adore you, and I'm just so grateful that—that you—" Andrea pressed her finger to Miranda's lips, interrupting her words.

"I get it. And you're welcome. But please know that I do genuinely enjoy spending some time with them. I don't have nieces or nephews or kids, so I love having the opportunity to be a part of their lives. And if things ever turn sour between us, I'll still be there for them if they'll have me," Andrea said.

Miranda frowned at the last part, only to be met with a shrug of the shoulders. Miranda sighed, "I am just glad that they approve of you," she said. "Would you like to stay over tonight?"

"I'll head back to my place…and before you ask…yes, I will text you as soon as I get home," Andrea said. Miranda nodded, and Andrea slipped out the door before she could protest.

Are you home yet? Miranda texted Andrea.

Cab is just pulling up, she replied.

I meant to give you money for what you spent on the girls tonight.

Seriously? It was nothing. You can buy me lunch sometime and we'll call it even.

Okay. Will you call me once you're in and settled?

Yes, is something wrong? Andrea quickly replied.

No, just miss hearing your voice… xo

Andrea smiled and slipped her phone back into her pocket as she paid the cab driver and let herself into her apartment. She quickly brushed her teeth and removed her makeup, then stripped down to her tank top and undies before crawling into bed and pulling her phone out.

"Hi," she said when Miranda picked up.

"Hi," Miranda said. "You know, it's kind of surreal."

"What is?"

"This. Us. It's just been so long since I've had a friend," she said, "someone I can talk to about anything—someone who actually cares about what's going on in my life….When I'm not with you, I just get that loneliness all over again."

"I think we're all lonely sometimes, no matter how many friends one has. But Miranda, that's what phones and text messaging and email is for," Andrea said.

"But I can't seriously pick up the phone every time something comes into my mind that I want to share with you!" Miranda said.

"Yes, you can, and I would love to get those calls or messages."

"Really?" she asked. "That wouldn't get annoying? Because I was thinking, maybe if I started a list, then whenever we saw each other next, I would have an agenda for discussion."

"Do not start making agendas for our dates, Miranda," Andrea said. "I know you don't really separate work from your personal life, and that's fine, but know that I'm always here and there's nothing I would rather do than chat with you. Well, almost nothing," she said.

"Okay," Miranda said. "No lists, no agendas, got it. So, can I tell you what made me want to talk to you tonight?"

"Yep."

"After you left, I brought my milkshake upstairs and decided to take a bath. So, here I was, drinking a lavender mint shake, which was really good by the way, and sitting in a bathtub of lavender mint bubble bath!"

Andrea laughed. "Oh my god, I didn't even realize that. Did it make you want to taste the bubbles?"

"No, no no. But I was thinking about the mint part. The bubble bath definitely has more of a pepperminty scent, while the milkshake tasted of fresh mint leaves."

"So would you recommend surrounding oneself entirely—inside and out—with one flavor?" Andrea asked, amused that Miranda felt the need to tell her this.

"No, absolutely not. For one, it made the bath far less relaxing because I was thinking too much about the particular notes of mint they used. But then, as I was finishing the milkshake, I was starting to imagine a soapy, lauryl sulfate-ish taste, so the combination kind of ruined them both," she said.

Andrea began laughing, much to Miranda's dismay. "Why are you laughing?" she asked. "This is annoying, isn't it? You're not interested in mint."

"No, no, that's not it," Andrea said, trying to catch her breath. "I am very interested in mint, and I love the way your mind works, Miranda. You are so adorable, and I hope you call me more often with observations like this."

"Andrea, I am not 'adorable,'" she protested.

"Oh, but you are," she said.

"Puppies and babies are adorable, darling, not fifty-something-year-old women."

"I would prefer fifty-something-year-old women to puppies any day. But you do make an interesting comparison…I think all three are equally needy…" Andrea said.

"Hmph," she huffed. "I still don't appreciate being teased, Andrea," she said.

"Okay, okay, I take it back."

"Not to change the subject, but I emailed John tonight and he is very eager to meet you. He said he'll reach out to you tomorrow, and you can start orientation as early as Wednesday."

"What? As in, four days from now Wednesday?" Andrea asked.

"Yes. I know it's soon, but the previous employee up and quit, so he is quite desperate for someone to step in."

"But Miranda, that's—and there's Runway—"

"Yes, about that. I also called Joann in human resources at Elias-Clarke and explained our circumstances. She agreed that any relationship needed to be disclosed ASAP, and since the board hasn't asked for any updates in the past few months, she is willing to backdate the form a few weeks—to the time I brought you to Alix. I can trust her—she probably hates Irv more than I do. I don't think there will be any questions, but just in case, I don't want it having repercussions on your career."

"You disclosed our relationship without telling me first?" Andrea asked, still trying to wrap her brain around that.

"Well, yes. Darling, we talked today about you leaving the magazine. I thought you would appreciate this. Now there's no way for Irv to fire you—or me for that matter."

"But Miranda, eventually someone will see that, and you know it will be made public."

"Yes, and we'll deal with it if it happens," Miranda said.

"But what if they realize the only reason I got the job at The Mirror is because I was sleeping with you?"

"Darling, John will still interview you and review your portfolio. Don't think for one minute that you don't deserve this position."

"I just wish you would have told me," Andrea said.

"It was on my list," Miranda said quietly, "my list of things to tell you next time we spoke. I'm sorry, sweetheart, I was honestly trying to help."

"It's okay," Andrea said, sighing. "Thank you. Now, I should really get some sleep," she said. "I know you're going to think I'm saying that because of what you just said, but that's not it. I'm just getting tired."

"Okay, that's fine," Miranda said. "Sleep well."

"Thanks, you too. I love you. Call or text me if anything comes up during the night, okay?"

"Okay," Miranda said. "You do the same, darling. I love you, too."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Laying in bed, Andrea felt bad for the way she reacted on the phone, but it was just so many changes at once. She quickly sent a text message to Miranda before setting her phone on the nightstand and turning out the light: Thank you for talking to HR. Sorry I overreacted. You obviously know what you're doing more than I do with this, and I trust you completely. Let me know if I need to write a resignation letter or if we'll just act like I've been secretly applying for other jobs. …I know we just hung up, but I miss you already. xox

As Miranda was turning out the light, Andrea's text came through, bringing a smile to her face.

Sunday morning flew by, and before she knew it, James would be coming to pick up the girls. Miranda had been texting Andrea all day, slowly becoming more accustomed to her constant presence.

As soon as the girls left, Miranda opened a bottle of wine and poured two glasses. She had some things in mind for their evening, but wanted to talk to Andrea first and make sure nothing had been left unsaid from last night.

Promptly at 5:35, Andrea let herself in, meeting Miranda in the den. "Sweetheart, I just poured your wine," Miranda said. "Come, sit. I just want to chat for a few minutes."

Andrea set her bag down, kicked off her heels and curled up next to Miranda on the sofa, wine glass in her hand. "What's on your mind, beautiful?" Andrea asked.

Miranda blushed at the compliment. "Andrea, I want to tell you just how grateful I am for you. You respect me, and not just the way all my staff does, but you respect me as a human being and as a woman. You are dependable and protective of me and my family, and I know that I can lean on you if I need to. Honestly, I've never felt this way with anyone else. You're so utterly trust-worthy, sometimes I need to pinch myself as a reminder that you're real."

Andrea felt her eyes welling with tears. "Miranda, when I say I love you, I mean it. Anything you need, or your girls need, I'm here."

"Thank you," she said. "So, something you said yesterday at your apartment gave me an idea and I was hoping you would permit me to try it," she said.

"May I take you upstairs, Andrea?" Miranda asked.

"Ooh!" Andrea said, realizing Miranda wanted to step into their roles. "Yes, my Pet," she said as she set her wine glass down. "That would please me very much."

Miranda smiled as she took Andrea's hand and led her upstairs. "Andrea, I am here to please you tonight," she said, shutting and locking the bedroom door. "May I take off your clothes?" Andrea nodded and Miranda slowly began undressing the brunette. Once undressed, she guided Andrea to lay on her back in the middle of the bed. Miranda slipped her cotton/jersey casual dress over her head, revealing a leather corset that just barely covered her nipples, plus a garter belt holding up her thigh-high tights.

"Andrea, do you trust me?" she asked, reaching for something on the dresser.

"Yes, Pet, I trust you with anything. I need you, Pet," she said.

Miranda quickly made her way to the bed, securing each of Andrea's limbs to a bedpost with specially-designed cuffs. She placed a black silk blindfold over Andrea's eyes, and took a small pair of earmuffs to place over her ears. "I am here for your pleasure, and yours alone, Andrea," she whispered before moving the muff into place.

Andrea was writhing and moaning on the bed, as she smelled Miranda move closer, Miranda's own unique scent mixed with a mild leather smell.

Miranda slowly began tracing her hands along Andrea's body, covering every inch from the top of her head to the tip of her toes except for her nipples and her folds. She soon began adding light kisses, gently sucking on sensitive areas such as the inside of her ankle, her hip, her inner thigh, and her earlobe. Miranda dipped her finger inside her own wetness, quickly bringing the fluid to Andrea's lips, tracing her finger around her mouth as if she were applying lip balm. While Andrea busied herself trying to lick it off, Miranda retrieved a long ostrich feather from the dresser and gently began tracing it across the woman's body. Andrea began moaning loudly, thrusting her hips upward in the air, reaching for any sort of contact. Miranda began stroking the feather up Andrea's body from her core to her chin repeatedly as she watched the brunette's reaction. Seeing that Andrea was so close to the edge, she leaned in and puckered her lips, blowing gently on Andrea's wet, throbbing folds as she traced the feather upwards once more.

Andrea gasped, her back arching off the bed as she drew in deep breaths. Miranda untied the cuffs from the bedposts while Andrea's breathing returned to normal, and she leaned over, pulling the earmuffs off. "Did that please you, Andrea?"

"God, yes, my Pet. I—I need to touch you," she said.

"You may," Miranda replied, crawling next to her and laying on the bed. Once she realized her hands and feet were no longer restrained, she pulled the blindfold off and pounced on Miranda.

"Pet, you are mine," she said, laying next to Miranda and latching onto her nipple. "I want to hear you crying my name," she said.

"Ooh, Andrea," Miranda moaned, "You suck me so good," she squealed as Andrea bit down and began sucking harder, sending waves of pain through her body. "Ohhh gooddddd, Andddreeeaaaa!" she howled.

Hours later, they were both fully sated, curled in each other's arms.

"I talked to John today," Andrea said. "He seemed to like my portfolio, and said he would send me an official offer letter this evening," she said.

"Andrea, that's wonderful!" Miranda said. "I'm so proud of you."

"And since I will no longer be at Runway," she said, "I took the liberty of scheduling a two-hour meeting with Alice on your calendar every Wednesday."

"But then I'll surely have to stay later those nights," Miranda said.

"Yes, well, the girls also have soccer practice Wednesday evenings, so they won't be home," Andrea said. "We can always see how it works out for a while. Maybe we won't even need that," she added.

"You mean, maybe we can just have Roy drive us around while you fuck me stupid?" Miranda asked, chuckling.

Andrea laughed. "What I meant was that maybe we'll find a good balance between the girls, the townhouse, my apartment, and we won't need to go to Alix," she said.

"Oh, yeah. I guess," Miranda said. Just then they heard three doors slamming out on the street. "The girls—what time is it?" Miranda asked, frantically jumping up and throwing her dress back over her head.

Andrea followed suit, quickly dressing and throwing her hair into a messy bun. "Hey, wait," she called as Miranda unlocked the bedroom door. Miranda paused, and Andrea quickly ran her fingers through her silvery hair a few times, smoothing it out and trying to combat the 'just-got-fucked' look. "There. Gorgeous," she said. Miranda nodded, blushing, and opened the bedroom door, heading downstairs, grabbing their wineglasses just as the girls were coming into the house.

"Darlings, how was dinner?" Miranda asked calmly.

"Good. Dad didn't really have much to say, but he mentioned maybe taking us to a Yankees game this weekend if it was okay with you," Cassidy said.

"Oh, I don't see why not, that sounds like fun," Miranda said.

"What's wrong with you two?" Caroline asked. "Did you guys have a fight?"

"No, why would you ask that?" Miranda said.

"Well, you guys are like on opposite sides of the room, and Andy has a mark on her neck."

"No, we're fine," Andy said, reassuringly, moving closer to Miranda and wrapping her arm around her waist. "I burnt myself straightening my hair this morning, and then the ointment that I put on it made it worse, I think."

"Yes, so that's one of the reasons I don't want you girls messing with curling irons or straighteners—you can hurt yourself, even if you're careful," Miranda said.

"Okay, Mom." Caroline said.

"Well, I need to go finish my homework. Goodnight, Mom. Bye Andy!" Cassidy said.

"Goodnight, girls," Miranda and Andrea said in unison, turning to each other, then laughing hysterically as they returned to the den, curling up on the couch with their wine glasses.

Caroline and Cassidy began walking upstairs, whispering quietly once out of earshot. "See? They are totally acting strange," Caroline said.

"Yeah, but I'd say they spent the evening making out, not fighting."

"You think that was a hickey?"

"Yes, definitely. Didn't you notice how Mom blushed when you asked?"

"No, I missed that. I know Mom wants to be closer to us and everything, but maybe we should have the talk with her."

"You mean, like tell her we love her and love Andy but don't want to hear about it or see it?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"Oh, and we should make sure Mom tells Andy that Patricia is our dog."

"Why?"

"Didn't you hear her saying something about her pet the other day?"

"Ohh yeah. She can't have Mom and Patricia. We're definitely talking to her tomorrow."

THE END.


A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing. Sorry it took me so long to finish this one...every time I thought I would have time to write, something came up. I may add an epilogue at some point, but for all other purposes, this is complete. Hope you enjoyed :)