A/N: I'm not really happy with this one, but I had it in my head and couldn't resist. Just a bit of festive fluff.

Trick-or-Treating

"And one more thing, Andrea. You need to go to the townhouse right now and accompany the girls—something with their new ensembles."

"Oh, uh, okay…"

"Do not let them out of your sight."

"Yes, Miranda," Andrea said, hurrying back to her desk. She really wasn't sure what was going on, but she knew she would figure it out soon.

"Caroline? Cassidy?" Andrea called, closing the front door behind her.

"I've had it with them!" Cara said. She took her coat from the hall closet, and marched to the front door. "Good luck," she said over her shoulder.

Andrea ran her fingers through her hair and began climbing the stairs. There were only two other occasions when she had been upstairs in the townhouse: the first was an utter disaster, and the second consisted of climbing two flights of carpeted stairs in stiletto pumps to fetch two twenty-pound duffle bags from the girls' bedrooms.

"Girls? Are you up here?" Andrea called once again.

The twin she knew to be Caroline poked her head out from the bedroom door, then ducked back inside. "I told you she wouldn't come," she said.

"Told who who wouldn't come?" Andrea asked, gently pushing the door open.

"Mom," Cassidy said. "I called her and asked if she would take us trick or treating. She said she would take care of it. And now we got you. Hmph."

Andrea bit her lip. She felt awful for these girls sometimes, but there weren't enough onion bagels with cream cheese in the world to make her take sides against Miranda.

"Mom always takes care of it, Cass. Get used to it. That's her way of saying she's not interested but just wants to be sure we don't die or something," Caroline said.

"Would she even care then? Or would she take care of the funeral and send her stupid assistant?" Cassidy cried, running and throwing herself at the bed.

"Hey, I take offense to that. I am highly intelligent," Andrea said, trying to lighten the mood.

"It doesn't matter. I don't want to go anymore," Cassidy said.

Andrea looked around the room and saw two beautiful princess dresses. They were identical, except one was pink and one was blue. It was clear they had been hand-designed, as the fabric was of an exponentially higher quality than the flammable shimmery material Andrea remembered wearing as a kid.

"Your dresses remind me of Princess Aurora from Sleeping Beauty," Andrea said, sitting on the edge of Cassidy's bed. "Remember, when the fairies keep changing the color from pink to blue?"

Cassidy sat up and looked Andrea straight in the eye.

"What? Haven't you guys seen that movie?"

"Uh, it's only our favorite movie ever," Caroline said, jumping up next to Andrea.

"That's exactly what it's supposed to be," Cassidy said.

Andrea took a deep breath, knowing she passed their test.

"I still don't really want to go anymore. Everyone else is going with their Mom or Dad."

"Okay. These dresses are far too cool to sit on the hangers all night, and your mom promised me candy if I would help out, so we are going trick or treating," Andrea said. The girls giggled. The thought of Miranda bribing her with chocolate made her giggle a little, too. "Now, your mom really wanted to be here tonight, but an important meeting came up that she couldn't miss. I promised her I would take lots of pictures and that I would make sure you have fun, okay?"

Caroline nodded, but Cassidy was still skeptical. "That doesn't sound like Mom," she said.

"Uh, I think her exact words were, 'Andrea, if you don't take lots of pictures and eat lots of chocolate, you can just forget about coming back here,'" she said, impersonating Miranda.

The twins erupted in laughter, and Andrea joined in, too. Because really, the thought of Miranda uttering those words was downright foolish.

"Andy, what are you going to dress as?" Caroline asked. Andrea was just finishing zipping up her dress.

"Uhm, I have to wear a costume?" she asked, looking down at her long sleeve black sweater dress with fishnets.

"Duh. It's Halloween."

"You can be Mom!" Cassidy suggested.

"NO. Your mother would fire me, then kill me, then fire me again. What was your Mom going to be?"

"Said it was a surprise," Caroline said.

"Pfft," Cassidy said, "She never planned on coming."

"Cassidy, don't say that. Your mother loves you very much and you know she would do anything to be here if she could. She almost fired me once because I wasn't able to convince a plane to take her out of Miami during a hurricane. Did you know that? Or did you know that I actually saw your mother cry—yes, real tears—when she thought about how much it would suck for you girls when she divorced Stephen? She cares about you so much," Andrea said. "Please don't doubt that."

"Is that true? About the hurricane?"

"And that she cried about us?"

"Yes and yes. Both times I almost left Runway. It was absolutely impossible for me to do anything to fix the situation, but I knew it was what your mom wanted more than anything in the world. She would have had me move heaven and earth if I could," Andrea said, taking the girls' hands. "So, why don't you two find some jewelry to accessorize with, and I will go see if I can find a costume for myself in your mom's closet."

"Isn't she going to be mad if you go in there?" Caroline asked.

"Nope. She told me it was okay," Andrea said.

"Can we come, too? Mom never lets us in there."

"Of course," Andrea said.

The trio made their way to Miranda's bedroom, then into her closet. Andrea imagined she had a large, elaborate closet, but this was beyond her expectations. The girls quickly went to the drawers that held their mother's jewelry, while Andrea prayed to whatever deity would listen that Miranda had a costume somewhere in this space. That's when she saw it—a shipping box tucked into the corner. She bent down and picked it up. She didn't want to pry, but it was quite unusual for Miranda to order something from Amazon that she didn't know about, let alone keep it stored in the box. Seeing that the postmark was only two weeks ago, she peered into the box and gasped.

"Andy what is it?"

"Found your mom's costume," she said. "Maleficent."

The girls shrieked and ran over, taking the elaborate mask from the box.

"Okay, kiddos. Let's go finish your hair and then we can go get some candy," Andrea said, trying to shoo the girls from the closet.

Andrea spent the next hour straightening their hair and helping them to apply a tiny bit of a light grey eyeshadow, blush, mascara, and lip gloss. When everyone was ready, Andrea slipped on the mask and headed out the door with the twins.

At one house, when the girls ran up the steps to ring the bell, the middle-aged man who answered the door waved down at Andrea. She responded with a slight nod, but then remembered he didn't know she was only an assistant.

"Miranda, that's a good look," he called as the twins were leaving.

"You're not taking enough pictures," Cassidy said.

"Let's sit here on this bench for a minute," Andrea said as she pulled out her camera phone. She snapped a few photos of the girls looking through their bag of candy, then they posed for a few adorable photos with their backs to one another. Just as she was about to put her camera away, Cassidy stopped her.

"You're not in any of these," she said.

"Oh, I don't think that's right," Andrea said.

"But we want you to be. Come here," Caroline said, moving aside so Andrea could sit between them.

Andrea took her spot and held the camera up, snapping a few shots. Satisfied, they gathered their things and began walking home since it was starting to get dark outside. As they walked along the sidewalk, they passed by many other families and children, all in varying degrees of costume. It was a good night, and Andrea was surprised at how much fun she was having with Miranda's children.

"Girls, I have an idea," Andrea said. "Have you ever been trick or treating at Runway? I know there probably aren't too many people there right now, but we can go and at least surprise your mom and maybe Mr. Kipling," Andrea suggested.

Twin sets of eyes lit up at the suggestion, and no sooner was Andrea hailing a cab for them.

"Cass, what happened to your dress?" Caroline asked, pointing at the torn fabric.

"Oh no! I don't know. Crap, Mom is going to be soooo mad. Andy, can we turn around and just go home?" she begged, tugging on the young woman's arm.

"Hey, it's okay. Your mom won't be mad, I promise you. Are you hurt?" Andrea asked.

"No. I don't know how it happened," she said as tears started forming in her eyes.

"Don't cry, sweetie. It's just a dress. You still look like a beautiful princess and we still had a really good time tonight, right?"

Cassidy nodded, but Andrea could tell she was still a little upset.

"Okay we're almost there. I'm going to introduce you to Juan, who works at the front desk. He's kind of new, but he will absolutely love your costumes, okay? And I bet he'll even know who you are," she said.

This seemed to distract the young girl from her torn dress. Andrea still wasn't sure how she was going to explain anything to Miranda, but she hoped she would be able to sneak out once she dropped the girls off.

As expected, Juan adored their costumes and knew who they were right away. He even took turns ballroom dancing with the girls around the lobby as he hummed "Once Upon a Dream."

"You girls even dance like Princess Aurora," Andrea said, "C'mon, let's head upstairs and see your mom, okay?"

Both girls nodded in agreement and they hopped into the elevator after thanking Juan for the dances. Andrea quietly slipped the mask back on, knowing she would need it to face Miranda.

When they got off the elevator at the eighteenth floor, both girls stopped in place, causing Andrea to bump into them. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Uh, maybe Mom doesn't want us here. We shouldn't bother her," Caroline said.

"Nuh-huh. She does want you here. And I think she would love it if you came running into her office and surprised her," Andrea said, wondering when she had settled on this particular death wish.

The girls exchanged a glance and then raced through the doors. For a split second, Andrea considered getting back into the elevator, but she couldn't leave without telling the girls goodbye. She slowly approached and gently leaned against her desk. Miranda was still sitting at her desk, and she seemed to be talking to the girls as if they were an employee or something.

"Hey girls," Andrea said, interrupting whatever was happening in the office. "Why don't you go find Mr. Kipling and see if he recognizes your costumes? Do you know where his office is?"

"Yeah! I bet he can't figure it out!" they called, racing out of the room and off to the Art Department.

"Andrea," Miranda called. Her voice was deadly.

Andrea stepped inside and took a deep breath.

"How dare you?" Miranda said. "Leave. Immediately."

Andrea took a deep breath. Since she was just fired for attending to the editor's children, she figured she would share her thoughts with the woman.

Andrea set the Maleficent mask on Miranda's desk. "Let me explain one thing—"

"How dare you lie to my children like that! Is that what I pay you for? To go through my closet and—and treat my children as if they are your own?"

"What exactly did I lie about? Telling them that you wanted to see them? That you wished you were there?" Andrea asked.

Miranda shook her head, speechless at this sudden outburst from her assistant. Ex-assistant.

"I know it's none of my business but I have to say this, Miranda, and then I will leave. Those are good kids, and they miss you terribly. They think you don't care about them. They had no problem saying that you wouldn't care if they died and that you would probably send your assistant to the funeral in your place. I know you would do anything for those girls—they need to see that, they need you. I told them that you would do anything for them, that you did everything you could to be with them tonight, and that you wanted me to take a lot of pictures," Andrea said. "I can only hope that is not entirely untrue. I'm sorry. I understand that was out of line, but they had fun tonight, they really did. And—"

"Andrea—"

"—please just tell them you love them." Andrea hung her head and looked down at the ground before turning on her heels and walking away.

"Andrea, this conversation is not over," Miranda said, stopping Andrea in her tracks. "I will come by your home tonight once the girls are in bed."

"My—my apartment?" Andrea squealed.

"Would you prefer to meet at a cafe? I can't have this conversation when the girls may hear."

"Oh, okay," Andrea said. "My apartment is fine. I'll uh, be waiting." Andrea made her way to the elevators, shocked that Miranda was even willing to speak with her after what had happened.

Later that evening, Miranda knocked on Andrea's door. The young woman let her inside and offered the woman a seat on the armchair while she took the futon. Miranda's lips were pursed tightly shut, and her face and an unreadable expression. She looked down at her hands and quietly spoke. "You were right."

"Excuse me?"

"You. Were. Right," Miranda repeated. "I would do anything for them, and they need me."

Andrea didn't respond. She was still awaiting her final dismissal.

"You told them about the hurricane, about Paris. You took my side when it would have been so much simpler not to. Why? Why did you do it?" Miranda asked quietly.

Andrea took a deep breath. It would have been so simple to say that she did because it was her job and to let Miranda fire her. But, the woman of her nightly dreams was sitting in her chair in her apartment, and she couldn't bring herself to speak.

"Andrea, I was under the impression that we would be having a conversation. Have you lost the ability to speak?"

"No, I'm sorry," Andrea stammered. "I told them what I believed to be the truth. I know you've been busy lately and haven't been able to spend much time with them. But that doesn't mean you don't want to."

"You are exactly right, but how did you know that when I hardly realized it myself?"

Andrea shrugged. "I just know you."

Miranda nodded. "When I was tucking them in tonight, Cassidy asked me if I would come to her funeral if she died. She seriously thought I would send an assistant. My own daughter…" her voice trailed off as tears began to fall from her eyes. "How could I ever ask you to leave now? You know me better than anyone, and, I can hardly believe it myself, but you're on my side."

Andrea reached out and laid her hand on Miranda's knee, silently offering reassurance.

Miranda reached down and covered the young woman's hand with her own, squeezing gently. "I don't know why it's so difficult for me around them. And yet, with you, I'm an open book. Oh god, Andrea, I don't want to lose them. I can't lose them."

Andrea sensed Miranda's growing panic and slipped off the couch, kneeling before the editor. Taking her trembling hands in her own, she held tightly while Miranda cried. After a short while, she stood and tugged Miranda to the couch with her. Surprisingly, Miranda did not hesitate to accept Andrea's embrace.

"Thank you," Miranda said softly as she pushed away from Andrea's arms. She had been sitting there for nearly thirty minutes. She reached up and cupped Andrea's cheek. "Sweetheart, you have be—"

"Stop," Andrea said, standing up and walking towards the door. "You're welcome. I'm glad the girls had fun tonight, and I'm glad you're feeling better," she said, staring at the carpet. "Is there anything else I can do?"

Miranda stood and approached the young woman. "Whatever I said or did, I'm sorry, Andrea," Miranda said quietly.

"Please don't apologize. It's just—I can't remain professional if you're touching my cheek."

"No one was asking for professionalism, Andrea," Miranda said.

Andrea looked up and met the woman's half-lidded gaze.

"Maybe I was wrong—maybe I'm not such an open book around you," Miranda whispered, again cupping Andrea's cheek as her eyes fluttered closed.

"Miranda," Andrea exhaled, "I can't do this. It's too much. You mean too much to me."

Miranda's thumb gently brushed across Andrea's lips. "Sweetheart, you mean more to me than I can put into words. I should hope we can continue this conversation Friday evening when the girls are at their father's?"

Andrea's eyes fluttered opened. Miranda's thumb still lingered on her lips and she couldn't help but sneak her tongue out to taste her.

Miranda's lips curled in a grin. "Friday," she said, pulling her hand away and reaching for the door. "Oh, and Andrea? Happy Halloween."

the end