A/N. You do a drabble, you get stuck in it… (yesthatislife). Im not happy with this chapter, but alas. Life goes on. I will label the story as complete, cause I don't think I'll be returning to it.

Oh oh oh! What I wanted to ask (to just anybody in particular. I heard there was a July Fic-a-thon coming up? I really would like to join, and write something but A) are there still spaces open? And B) I don't have LJ, and I don't think I'll figure out how it works before July, so if I can join… can I post it here on FF? (I don't even know if people who know about it read this fic, but it's worth a try :).

All mistakes are mine. All the characters aren't.

Going to sleep now, European time at 01:30, yay.

'Did you smack your little head on the pavement?' She watched as the girl looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Herself being the car in this scenario. The girl held her breasts with one arm, the other one covering her lace panties. That surprised her, the girl had quite a cup size, she would have at least two hands full of –stop that thought!

'Are you deaf or stupid?' She tried again. The girl really looked like she wasn't able to say anything for the next five minutes, and no matter how appealing the body, there was no reason to have a mentally deprived person in her backyard for five minutes, so she hissed 'Get out of my backyard immediately' and glared.

Never ever in her whole life had Andy heard such a velvety but low and very, very frightening voice.

She was struck by it. By the whole appearance of the woman, so it took a few seconds to register that a) the woman was very angry and b) she had a way with words because Andy almost got aroused by the way the woman threw insults at her. Wait what?

Andy couldn't hide the goose bumps on her arms in reaction to it. She also couldn't scrap herself together enough to answer. All she stuttered was 'I.. I just need…'

Not very effective in making yourself clear. Perhaps she could point at the tree, but letting go of her breasts somehow didn't seem like the best option.

'There is only one thing that you need to do, and that is leaving my backyard or I'll have you arrested. That's all.' Apparently the conversation was done.

Sometimes, in the middle of the night, things seem like really good ideas. Articles, inventions, voicemails, kissing random people, buy another pickleback-shot, things like that. Even rarer those things are actually good when you wake up the next morning. Walking towards some woman's tree and reach out to grab your blouse because you need to leave her backyard and murder your best friend and ex-boyfriend was not one of those things, apparently.

'What are you doing?' It was not a question. It was a hiss as snakes give before they deadly bite you. When the woman caught Andy's … exposed figure again she seemed to falter a moment, and for a millisecond her eyes darkened visibly. A tongue sneaked out and wetted her lips. But then her mask of rage and indifference slammed back. Andy told herself it was the cold that hardened her nipples.

'I'm so sorry, it is just… my clothes are in your tree and I'm not tall enough to grab them and I can't really walk home like this because-'

Andy was sure the woman was the most scary person she had ever met, because whenever she thought the woman could look no angrier than she did, she managed to do just that.

'Get. Out. Of. My. Plum tree. Now.'

She was going to sue the girl. For standing in her backyard, for violating her gorgeous plum tree, for keeping her awake, for making Miranda feel like a morally reduced person by enjoying the sight of the girls beautiful body, for standing there as if she had no clue who Miranda was, for based upon the garment hanging in the air really not having a clue who Miranda was. Oh, she was going to sue and rip the girl apart. Right in front of a court who would be – watching. Miranda suddenly became painfully aware of the fact that they were standing in an open space. Someone might see this and draw an erroneous conclusion. God knew the paparazzi was everywhere, and this would provide just the sight page six would sell papers on for weeks.

She really would have to get the girl away.

Andrea looked around to see if there were any people with binoculars spying on her naked body. She didn't see anyone. But those thingies were black so there was not a 100% guarantee. The thought of being watched made her shiver a little. Though the woman's gaze was hot as, well, ice? From that perspective watching became a certain intriguing concept that-

'Get inside now! I will not been seen with a naked woman in my garden.' The woman interrupted her thoughts with a low growl.

Hey I'm not completely n-'

'You will not talk.'

Andy immediately shut up. She walked behind the woman, who shut the door behind her and locked it.

Before horror scenario's could emerge from her imagination, a big wagging Saint Bernard approached her as if she was his new best friend. So much for the watchdog who was going to eat her. Andy wondered if there was a maximum of embarrassment that one could have in one night. Apparently not, as the dog gave her a slobbery lick along her upper leg leaving a impressive amount of drool behind. She tried to wipe it away a bit with her hand, as she wouldn't make the same mistake of touching anything that belonged to the woman. Well, except for her hard wooden floor with her feet. But that was only because she absolutely couldn't prevent it.

The woman tapped her clad-in-five-inch-heels foot, surprisingly fast, on that same floor. A revolted glance was thrown at her hand. But she wasn't offered a towel. Instead the silver haired figure whispered:

'Name?'

'Andy Sachs.'

Silence. A Condemnatory glance.

'It is short for Andrea Maria Sachs.'

Eye rolling.

'I'm a journalist.'

'Yes, I can see how you have such a talent with words.'

'This is no-'

'Bore your little newspaper with your comments. You will not move.' The woman walked away. By the sound of the fading step Andy could hear she went upstairs. Probably to call the Police. Now that Andy was effectively locked in and the woman knew her name she could easily demand a team to pick her up and let her spend the night in jail. The woman could probably demand anything. It was the only form in which she seemed to speak.

But when the woman came back she held a black skirt and a burgundy blouse in her hands that looked like they cost more than her entire wardrobe (and furniture) together. Andrea was surprised to see that it almost fitted her perfectly. And the fabric felt heavenly and thick enough to cover the fact that she wasn't wearing her bra.

'Thank you.' She stated awkwardly.

The woman, however, was not influenced by this. 'Now leave and refrain from interrupting my property ever again.'

Andrea nodded and walked with the woman to what seemed to look like the front door. Yet, perhaps it was a pathway to the cellar, there were so many doors in this (what seemed like but Andy couldn't exactly determine) humongous house. Just when the woman put her hand on the knob she blurted:

'What will happen with my old clothes?'

The woman glared.

'I mean.. I mean someone might see them and think…'

'I shall have them removed.' Her tone was definite.

'Eh, I can get them, I need them back anyways and- '

'Yes it would be such a shame if your rags would be lost. The scarecrows would be mourning.'

Angered, yet unable to adjust to the discrepancy between the nice gestures but harsh words she continued. 'I mean I caused all this trouble it is not more than fair that I-' But she is dismissed with a wave of her hand.

'My plum tree is not built for a girl of your…' Andy got another look-over…'shape'.

Oh well, what had she been thinking? Of course saying goodbye wouldn't have been complete without being called fat.

'Well, then, I shall leave after this pleasant visit.' She said sarcastically. Mysterious and astoundingly beautiful or not, the woman was a cold and vicious person. 'Thank you so much for all you offered generosity miss…?'

'Miranda.' The woman's expression was one of boredom. Andy stepped through the doorstep and turned to watch the woman.

'Thank you Miranda.' Her voice was in the middle of sincerity and sarcasm.

Miranda just closed the door in her face.

A/N 2: I know, not the best ending/structure. But if you think: well, they didn't part very well, just think along the lines of: she has Miranda's clothes now, she'll be needing (that's her excuse) to bring them back (after all they are borrowed right?). With Andy's cheek and Miranda's secret crush they'll get into conversation and from then on it is yada yada yada. ;).