SECRETS OF THE PAST

Pairing: Miranda Priestly/Richard Sachs, established Miranda/Andrea implied

A/N 1: Yeah you're probably looking at this and going, this woman is completely f**ked up in her head. Yeah, maybe I am, who knows!

A/N 2: I started writing this at 7 in the morning 2 days back when I woke up and couldn't get Joe Mantegna and Miranda Priestly-together, out of my head. I have no idea whatsoever what on earth spurred it on.

A/N 3: I know, in the movie-verse Andy's father does not have brown eyes, but even while writing this I was picturing Joe and Miranda for some weird unexplainable reason, so yeah brown eyes and all.

A/N 4: F/M sex so read at your own risk. Some of you probably want to kill me, but I just had to write this, sorry, not sorry. This is extremely twisted and crazy and kind of dark I guess, so again, read at your own risk. It sort of has a if not happy but optimistic ending

All standard disclaimers apply and un-betaed so all mistakes are mine.

Another thing, don't read it and leave me comments like : "Eew. Het sex. You've been warned." I'm gonna get hate I'm sure, but that's okay, but one comment about het sex and I'm gonna write you Miranda/Christian next!

"There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness."

-Friedrich Nietzsche

He gives her the signal at the dinner table by dropping his fork onto the ground- 'Meet me in the basement storeroom, like always.'

It all started again the first time Miranda came along with Andrea to Ohio to meet her 'in-laws'. She'd gotten thirsty at the middle of the night and had ventured downstairs for a glass of water. Instead she'd found herself face to face with an equally thirsty Richard Sachs. There had been vague pleasantries and a ton load of awkwardness-remnants of times long forgotten; before she began drinking ice cold water out of a bottle and in the process spilled some of it down the front of her ocean blue nightgown. She had cursed herself for not having bothered with her robe when she saw the evidence of her father-in-law's erection. She doesn't remember what followed next, except every time an unsuspecting Andrea sleepily asked her where she had gone at the middle of the night she would have a ready answer: for water of course, she was thirsty after all.

Wrong.

He's thrusting violently inside of her as her tight walls are clenching rhythmically against his rock hard shaft. He puts both his hands behind her ass and cups them firmly as he draws her further in grinding violently into her.

'You're so beautiful, I love you.' Miranda squeezes her eyes tight shut and tries to forget the chocolate brown eyes which remind her so much of Andrea. She wonders, yet again, if it's the eyes- if it's always been them-the endless pools of chocolate brown mingling with specks of gold which father and daughter share.

'Tell me you love her.' He yanks a tuft of her soft white hair suddenly and kisses her jaw just beneath her earlobe- just like he used to do in another lifetime.

Wrong.

She opens her eyes but closes them again when the brown proves to be too much. 'Tell me you love me more. Always have.'

She finally has the courage to look him in the face ' You're pathetic.'

'You hired her because of me, didn't you? You married her because of me and you call me pathetic.' he thrusts in her again and squeezes her breasts roughly. She moans a little too loudly.

'NO!' A finger brushes across her rock hard coral nipple. She whimpers but succeeds in suppressing a moan this time.

'She is so much better than you are. It's a good thing you married Helen. She's like her mom.'

He kisses across her sculpted clavicle and absent-mindedly starts counting her ribs.

'I love her. I….I hate you.'

Rhythmic thrusts, perfect hand eye coordination.

'You were brutal to her, she quit. You were getting back at me, weren't you- the part of you that always turned me on the most-your brutality. You're still getting back at me, aren't you? Marrying your lover's daughter.' A fierce kiss which makes her lips bleed.

Another excuse, another lie.

Wrong.

'No, I love her. Something I never did to you.' she reminiscences sadly. 'You should be ashamed of this. Trying to wreck your own daughter's marri-aaah-ah' and even before she can finish her sentence a mind numbing orgasm takes over her and her entire body trembles under him as she bites down on his shoulder to muffle a scream.

He catches her in the throes of passion-face glistening with sweat, flushed cheeks, eyes wide open with azure irises rolling back into her head, the stubborn forelock sticking to her forehead and head thrown backwards as she arches into him. It's enough for him- a look at her makes him delirious and this—seeing her this way is reserved for rare occasions now and it makes him come all so suddenly it takes him completely by surprise.

Filling her up this way makes him feel ecstatic—something like euphoria, like he's on cannabis or more specifically Miranda, his drug of choice. He still feels insatiated although he's way too tired already. Another time, they shall have another chance. He groans and collapses on her fragile body as he breathes her in.

She still smells the same-a mixture of myrrh and sandalwood and something sweet like vanilla as it tries to establish its dominance over the other smells of the room- the tangy taste of their mixture of juices, dust, soot and acrid smells accompanying every storeroom.

She closes her eyes again and whimpers. He's still inside him. She tries to move away, but he captures her waist and squeezes it tightly.

'Haven't you told her about her half sister or brother—the one you drained down your precious body 30 years ago? Haven't you told her you could have been her mother? Haven't you told her that she might not have been more if I'd married you?' he tugs at her wrists and holds them above her body with his hands. She writhes under him and whimpers painfully, a single drop of tear falls from her left eye and travels horizontally a little below her temple, he kisses it away—then kisses her forehead.

All at once the brutality ebbs away and is replaced by tender kisses and caresses. He still can't see her cry-just like his daughter can't. And now if Miranda closes her eyes, she might almost mistake that she's with Andrea.

Andrea, her Andrea, who reminds her of everything sunny and yellow and happy and simple, so much unlike her father. She still remembers the first day she saw her-the soul searching brown eyes and the surname had assured her almost completely that she was Richard's daughter. She'd hired her to get back at her father, sort of, for everything he had done to her, for the way he had treated her, but she had found herself falling in love with the undaunted young woman, much against her will. She hadn't loved anyone this way, not even her father.

'You know why I left you? Not because you decided to have an abortion, it was the right thing to do for us. I left you-' 'I don't want to hear it.' Miranda hisses.

He ignores her and continues, 'I left you because you invoked madness in me-still do. You were a menace, you drove me to insanity and yet I loved you.' he caresses her cheeks and she flinches away 'You're doing the same to Andrea.'

Now Miranda bristles, 'You're a liar! You're jealous of your own daughter's happiness. You think you can destroy us.'

'You're here, with me, aren't you?' a feather soft kiss on the cheekbone.

She swats him away violently and attempts to stand up, still naked.

'You've lost your mind. Andrea and I belong together. I don't drive her mad-she, she keeps me sane. She's so much of a better person than you are.'

'And yet you're with me.' He gets up and very uncharacteristically starts helping her into her midnight blue nightgown. The floor is a mess, but Miranda and Andy are staying for two more days. They might have another encounter, might as well clean up when it's all over.

'This has to stop.' Miranda pronounces firmly, 'forever. I can't do this to Andrea. I love her, she loves me. I have a family.'

'Yes, yes I know.' He says in an understanding tone. Uncharacteristic again.

'You don't get it, do you? This is wrong, you should feel ashamed! I can't believe I'm cheating on her with her own father. If this gets out-'

He silences her with a finger on her mouth and says against her neck 'It won't! Not if you and I stay quiet. I want her to be happy too. This IS wrong, isn't it?'

Miranda looks at him incredulously, 'Of course it is, Richard. Not again. I can't do this to her. She is enough—more than enough for me.' Miranda's voice is strained and she looks a little too pale, but then he kisses her jaw again and colour rushes into both her cheeks.

'Do you ever wonder, if we-' Richard asks hopefully.

'Never. No. Don't you get, it's your daughter I love. Not you. Never you.' she crushes his hope.

'Yeah.' A pregnant pause, 'Keep her happy. I'm sorry.' he lets go of her completely and she stands there dumb stricken.

Then, he puts on his pajamas and shirt and makes his way out of the store-room.

He leaves her in the dark where she stands exactly the way he left her and wonders when she began to lose her sanity, yet again. She thinks it's when Andrea decided to increase her working hours and spend less time with her. She misses being with her, all the moments that keep her sane.

She knows she has a choice to make—Richard or Andrea, father or daughter, insanity or sanity, darkness or light.

She's too tired already but she still makes it up the stairs and back to their room where Andrea is sleeping soundly. A sharp pain courses through her body as she realizes how she has wronged Andrea and in that moment Miranda makes her decision.

Unlike other times she doesn't slip in and go back to sleep instead she takes a shower and throws the nightgown in the garbage bin. She chooses a soft cotton yellow nightgown-comfortable and simple. Just like her Andrea.

Yes, she wants sanity and simplicity back.

Yeah, I get your urge of wanting to kill me, but honestly I did my best to save Mirandy. Miranda does make her choice, doesn't she, and might I say the right one!