A/N 1: Umm, so this is more like a songfic based on the song Back To December by Taylor Swift. I doubt anyone not having heard it!

A/N 2: This is only the first part of it because that's all the courage I've managed to garner up until now. I'll do the second part only if somebody is interested because I'm the laziest person on Earth and I love writing for people.

A/N 3: This is un-beta-ed, so all mistakes are mine.

Back To December

Pairing: Miranda/Andy

Rating: K

Summary: It's all upto Andy now to forgive Miranda for last December.

I'm so glad you made time to see me.

August 13th, 2008

It's been almost eight months since I last saw you. It's a wonderful day today; the sun is shining warmly on my back through the glass panel of the restaurant window and yet there is a slight nip in the air which titillates the atmosphere and heightens all my senses.

However what makes it most beautiful is your face, which I have seen after exactly 7 months and 13 days.

You walk in five minutes late for our scheduled meeting and for a moment my heart falls to my feet thinking about how I had not considered you not showing up at all! I still trust you as much as I did. After all you've never let me down, that's been my domain. I release a shaky breath which I didn't realize I was holding as you walk towards me with your million watt smile.

I take in your appearance, trying to memorize each and every detail, as if to make up for all the time that I haven't seen you. You look chic, handsome even, in your blue pin striped pant-suit and crisp white cotton shirt with your lustrous hair cascading down your shoulders. I can't quite place the designer, although knowing you I'm willing to bet it's from that super-mart three blocks down the road you live on. Or lived on. It's been too long and I can't hide my joy at seeing you, and uncharacteristically I reach forward to kiss your cheek or do something equally ridiculous but you stall me, and stick out your right hand for a handshake. I deflate a little but recover quickly as I extend my hand to take yours.

It's a clash of temperatures, my warm hand against your still cold one betraying New York's weather. Even before I can feel the smoothness of your palm you retract it from my gasp, as if, as if I have burnt them. For my part I feel electricity course through my body and a little shiver runs down my spine to change into a warm feeling somewhere in the solar plexus.

We sit down while you place your order for a coffee-an espresso with steamed milk, mocha sauce and peppermint-flavored syrup, topped with sweetened whipped cream and dark chocolate curls.

How's life? Tell me how's your family?
I haven't seen them in a while.
You've been good, busier than ever,
We small talk, work and the weather,
Your guard is up and I know why.

You look at me with something akin to tenderness and for a moment all I want to do is to run into your arms and cry you a river, because behind all this, behind this mask, the icy façade, the dragon exterior, I am still your Mira. The same woman you tried to mend, almost haplessly in an attempt to bring her back to living. The same woman who broke your heart and ripped your soul into pieces, the same woman who did the same to herself.

Instead, I ask you about your sister Catherine and how she is liking NYU and the city and whether your parents have started to feel the empty nester's syndrome yet.

You ask me about Caroline and Cassidy and I'm glad to talk about them, because they are the only things that keep me sane these days. I regret that they are growing up much too fast for my own liking. I smile a real smile when I tell you about their grades and achievements because I am so proud of them and I know that you too take delight in their success. You focus on my smile and suddenly I see a little twinkle in your eyes. In that moment I realize that you are still in love with me and there is hope that you might forgive me after everything that I've done. Hope.

When I begin to ask you questions my hope takes a back-seat. You're curt with your replies. We talk about work and the weather. I tell you that I've read every single piece of your writing and that I am very proud of your work. At some other time you might have gotten delirious with joy at such a compliment, but today, you only nod and thank me. I can feel the feeling of hope shrivel and die inside of me with every passing minute.

I do not blame you.

I know you're trying to guard yourself from me-the Ice Queen, the Devil incarnate, and the heartless woman.

I've hurt you once and you have no guarantee that I won't again. So, you take precautions this time. You will not lay your heart in my palm again, because you know that I might throw it away, again, mercilessly.

I do not blame you.

Yet, yet it kills me inside. To know that you don't trust me anymore, that you don't dare to show your true self to the Devil because all that she will do is hurt you.

Because the last time you saw me
Is still burned in the back of your mind.
You gave me roses and I left them there to die.

"Andrea, where are you taking me? I promised the girls I'd be back in time before the New Year starts. You will have to let me get back home before twelve." Miranda said, as she got into the passenger seat of a Cadillac which God knows where Andy had borrowed from.

"Miranda, Miranda! Stop! I promised your guardians a.k.a Caro and Cass that I'd get you back in time and will not try out anything inappropriate, because they've threatened to kill me if I do. So, chill!" Andy said, as she got into the driver's seat as she revved up the engine.

Miranda let out a full throated laugh and at that moment Andy forgot all about how to drive a car and stared at the beautiful woman next to her.

It had all started in Paris. During Fashion Week. That night when...and then everything, everything from that moment had been leading up to this, tonight. New Year's Eve. Chilly, pristine, white, breathtaking. Them in a car. Miranda laughing, not like Miranda Priestly, priestess of fashion, but just Miranda, a woman replete with quirks and failings. The sound of her laughter echoes in the air and Andy forgets how to breathe.

These days, it's been happening to her too often. She forgets how to breathe when their fingers brush while exchanging a cup of coffee or when Miranda decides to clean the kitchen slab and that stubborn white forelock falls on her face or just when it's the break of dawn and her eyes are moving in R.E.M. and a ghost of a smile is grazing her lips Andy falls in love with her once again.

Every day, each day Andy falls in love with Miranda. Yes love, she's known that for a while now. She wonders how Miranda will react to what she has planned for tonight.

Even before Miranda knows it they're at some place downtown that she hardly recognizes. It looks like someone's home, a really big someone with lots of money. Someone like Miranda herself.

Andy gets out of the driver's seat and holds open the door for Miranda while extending her arm so that Miranda can link hers in Andy.

'Are we being gallant now?' Miranda smirks as she links her arm into Andy's and then devours her with her eyes.

Andy is wearing a plain black Gucci pantsuit with a crisp and spotless white shirt. Her hair which is left loose around her shoulders is flailing in the wind and her makeup is minimal, except around the eyes where she has taken special care to add a lot of eyeliner and mascara because she knows that Miranda loves getting lost in them.

Miranda for her part looks like the earthly version of Aphrodite. She's wearing a plain prussian blue off-shoulder velvet evening gown which hugs her body like a second skin. A dazzling diamond stud graces each ear and the glint in her cerulean eyes are enhanced by that sparkle from the diamonds. Her silver hair looks softer tonight falling lightly onto her face as she moves her face to take in her surroundings.

'Pray tell me Andrea, where are we?'

'New York! Where else?!' Andy chimes in

'My, none of my previous lovers had this much cheek!'

'Well, aren't you glad then? Is that what I am, your lover?'

'Well, what would you have me call you? Girlfriend? Last I remember you haven't asked me out and considering the amount of time you spend at the town-house, lover sounds absolutely acceptable.'

'Umm, yeah, whatever, we'll see? Shall we?'

With that they made their way towards this mysterious place.

'My boss owns this place! His family and he is away for New Years, and he said he'd let me use his terrace.'

'Why? Do you have plans to throw me down from there? Have my employees bribed you?'

'No, I plan to throw you onto the ground and have my way with you!' Andy smirked.

'Well, you'll be breaking your promise to my guardians then, who would ground you, I on the other hand might love to see you suffer.' Miranda said while looking sideways to meet Andrea's chocolate brown gaze.

And everytime, everytime Miranda gazed into those endless pools of brown the world stopped; she ceased to be Miranda Priestly and turned into Andy Sachs' lover.

Today as she glanced into them she saw something akin to excitement, apprehension, love and sincerity. Too much sincerity. And in that moment Miranda Priestly felt scared and a shiver ran down her spine. This kind of sincerity could kill.

Andy had been planning this night for days. She wanted to make it special and start the New Year as a new person. As the wife of Miranda Priestly.

True, they'd only been formally dating for about three months, but she knew, from the deepest core of her heart that this was it for her.

It had of course been difficult for her-coming out to her parents and letting them know she liked women or at least one woman in particular, her much older, divorced ex-boss Miranda Priestly. It had been a battleground initially, but things had subsided and they'd even accepted Andy's decision and resigned to it. Andy's sister had been enamoured by Miranda when she had come to New York for a trip to look at different colleges in the city and that had helped a lot in changing all the bitchy things that Andy had said about Miranda before.

Andy knew that this was it for her. Every single morning the same realization dawned on her, that the primary reason for her existence was to make Miranda happy and it made Andy extremely giddy and happy to know how much she loved doing just that.

So she decided to take a chance. She'd seen Miranda at her most vulnerable, in Paris, and had come to realize that she was like a fragile flower which could overpower anybody with its mesmerizing fragrance, but it needed water, manure and sunlight. Andy would provide that and protect the flower, Miranda, from all grief.

They had been pretty serious about the whole thing right from the beginning, especially because they had been internally pining for each other for a very long time. That night in Paris, Miranda on that couch-pale, lonely, sad, crying like a wounded animal, grieving the demise of another marriage, another Mr. Priestly, her twins and the woman that she had become had been Andy's undoing. She had made the decision that very night that no matter what she would never ever leave Miranda come what may.

So today, after three and a half months it only felt logical to Andy to propose Miranda and ask her to marry her. She has everything ready-the ring, the speech, the flowers, everything! Nothing can go wrong; she will not allow anything to go wrong.

When they reach the balcony of the house Miranda is stupefied, spellbound by what lies ahead of her.

The whole terrace is illuminated with small white lights glowing like fireflies against the night sky and at the centre is a table adorned with candles and wine and food and what not!

There is a smaller seating for two to its right. It's a hue of colours-red and gold and black drapes are hung all over the place and are dancing to the wind's rhythm.

Bach, Miranda's favourite, is playing softly in the background luring you into the night's beauty.

SuddenlyMiranda has this sense of déjà vu and then realization dawns on her. She turns to look at Andrea and finds her on her knees. She seems to have produced a bouquet of roses out of nowhere and nestled safely at its centre is a ring. It's plain looking, a thin band of platinum with a diamond at the centre accompanied by two minute lapis lazuli crystals on either side.

'I promise I'll buy you a better ring when I'm rich. Marry me?'

Miranda looks her squarely in the eye and she knows that this isn't a joke! This is the most serious Andrea has ever been, ever since they've been lovers.

'Please don't say no!' there is almost a pleading note in Andy's voice.

Miranda stares at the flowers and the ring for the longest time and then everything comes thrashing back to her—the failure of each marriage, the betrayals, the little untruths, the fights, the humiliation and before she knows it she abandons Andrea and runs towards some desperate attempt to get back her sanity with one last:

'Sorry! I'm sorry!'

Reviews are like decadent pieces of chocolate cake and who doesn't like eating them. So, do leave me some.

A very very Happy New Year to every single one of you in advance! Hope the New Year brings to you the greatest possible happiness and joy and hope you find that someone special! uwu

P.S. I hope you like Andy in pantsuits!