Coming out of her interview and on to the street the following day, Andy noted two men carrying seriously professional looking cameras, who stopped lounging against the wall of the building opposite and started walking towards her. It was a decidedly new and unwelcome step up from the guy with a point and shoot, and if the door hadn't already shut behind her, she'd have seriously thought of disappearing back into the building and calling a cab.

"So Andy, you got any battle scars? Is the dragon all fire and claws in the sack?" one of them asked conversationally, a minute or so after falling in step to the left of her, when it was clear that she was doing her best to ignore them. Andy gritted her teeth. Apart from knowing better than to respond in any fashion, she really did not need to think about what Miranda was like in bed.

"Nah, can't have," his partner added, joining in from the other side of her, "according to her ex-husbands she's a frigid bitch."

Her fists clenched in her pockets, her shoulders tightened, and the urge she always had to defend Miranda had her jaw locking harder, in an effort not to say anything stupid.

"True, but she seems the sort of woman who just likes to be on top."

Andy wondered how the hell they'd found her. She'd managed to slip out through the back of Miranda's house that morning without a problem, and she'd not seen them on her subway trip over to the shelter. She tried to keep all expression from her face as she kept on walking.

"C'mon Andy, she like to be in charge? Boss you around again? Give us something and we'll get out of your hair!"

Yeah, like she believed that. She kept on walking.

A few minutes more of ignoring them trying to goad her into saying something she shouldn't, and they clearly gave up. One turned, lifted his camera and started taking pictures of her, the other ran a little way in front of her and started doing the same, the combined flashes irritating her eyes. When she reached the further one, he remained standing in her way, so she side-stepped him, carried on walking and spying a Starbucks on the corner, felt a sudden need for caffeine.

She'd been waiting in line for perhaps 30 seconds or so when there was a tap on her shoulder, she turned, "excuse me," the woman behind her said, "are you famous?"

Andy snorted, "no, sorry" she replied.

"But…" the woman pointed at the men waiting for her outside.

"Oh them," Andy said and rolled her eyes, "I work with them, and as usual they're taking their pranks way too far."

She turned back and shuffled forward, ignoring everyone else until it was time to order her coffee. She waited again, then picked the cup up so that the logo was visible from the front. She walked outside and they started following her again. Andy made sure that when she wasn't actually drinking, the cup stayed close to her face, hoping that would make anything they took harder to sell. Keeping her face neutral as she continued to ignore their attempts to get her to say something, anything, about Miranda. Reaching the subway, she walked down the steps, passed right by the nearest transit cop, swiped her metro card and was relieved when they didn't follow her through the turnstile.

Fortunately the train was not too crowded and while there was nowhere to sit, at least she didn't have to stand pushed up against strangers. She thought back to the peaceful way she had started the day in one of Miranda's numerous guest rooms, the light playing against her eyelids as she woke smiling, and didn't it just suck that life couldn't stay that way.

Then she thought of Sara and her 4 year old son Stevie, who she'd just left in a cramped room at the emergency shelter after an interview that had run way too long, and knew things could be a whole lot worse.

#~~~#

As she walked back above ground she turned on her cell phone for the first time that day and sighed at the amount of voicemails and texts she had waiting for her. Scrolling through she ignored all but the most recent, "hey, I'm on my way," she said when her call was picked up, "shouldn't you be getting ready, or pacing nervously or something?"

"Plenty of time for that," Caroline replied as calmly as she always did, "Mum's already here and she's looking annoyed, where are you?"

Andy looked at her watch, it was five after, damn Miranda and her always being early. "I've just got out of the subway, I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Good, because I need a favor."

"OK," Andy replied cautiously and listened to Caroline as she walked towards Barnard Hall. Ending the call just after she had walked through the gate, she caught a momentary flash to her right and flinched automatically. She turned and let out a breath when she realized it was just sunlight glinting off of one of the windows. When she went to put her cell away however, she noticed her hands were shaking, and knew she'd have to collect herself before she faced Miranda.

Finding an empty bathroom on the second floor she leaned against the sink, trying to steady herself. Damning all paparazzi to hell, she sighed and wondered, not for the first time, what exactly she'd signed up for.

Shutting her eyes, she breathed deeply and tried to relax. She thought of Miranda the previous evening and how she'd called her the most the most beautiful woman they'd see that night. She still disputed the point, but even as she wished Miranda meant it, the tension in her neck, back and shoulders eased. She thought back to her awareness of Miranda's gallantry; to the protected way she'd made her feel; to the easy conversation and the cocoa they'd had, still dressed in their finery. Although she'd declined the slug of single malt that was older than she was, that Miranda had added to hers. She grinned as she realized only now, that Miranda had answered one of the questions she'd put to her that first night at the townhouse, without ever drawing attention to the fact. Had indeed shown her more sides of herself in the last three weeks, than Andy had known in all the time she'd worked for her.

She took another breath and straightened up, she could do this. She was dating Miranda Priestly, and if the rest of the world wasn't jealous of her, couldn't see past the attitude that the woman projected, they all had serious flaws in their eyesight. She correct her thought to pretending to date as her hand reached for the door, although the way Miranda sometimes acted, that might just be the hardest thing to remember.

Pulling open the door she steeled herself, and made her way up to the forth floor with her head held high.

When Miranda finally saw her, her mouth tightened, and Andy mentally prepared herself for a cutting remark, but Miranda merely watched her walking towards her, and when she reached her, held out her hand.

Andy took it without comment. Grateful for the strength that again seemed to flow up her arm at it's warmth, as they made their way to their seats at the front of the room, ignoring the whispering and the stares that seemed to follow them. Miranda let go as she picked up the program on the seat and sat down. "Where's Cassidy?" Andy asked quietly as she sat next to her.

"Sitting with a friend from her English class, I believe," Miranda replied, "she'll find us afterwards. I suggested dinner and the girls were agreeable, provided they get to choose the venue."

"Are you sure that's wise?"

"Since they have both acquired a taste for good food, where ever we go will be sanitary and more than edible, even if the decor and general ambiance are not to my taste," Miranda replied. "As you said, it is best that we are seen with them, although the fact that Cassidy was not on Page Six this morning was a pleasant change."

"I haven't seen the photos yet, were they OK?"

"I imagine they will fool anyone who doesn't know us…" Miranda replied, then added, "anyone who does will probably think we've both lost our minds. How did your interview go?"

"Good I think, although a hell of a lot more needs to be done to help, it's ridiculous that—"

"No-one commented on your clothing choices?" Miranda cut in.

Andy rolled her eyes, "no Miranda. No-one commented on the fact that these pants run to a four figure price tag, and you still haven't told me how you just happened to have clothing in my size."

"I still get sent samples, Miranda replied, waving it off, "I have clothing in everyone's size, and as I tried to tell you this morning, good clothing is understated. It does not need to scream it's price tag, therefore contrary to your expectations, you looked good and no-one thought beyond that."

"I thought beyond that," Andy said, "do you know how many people could get a square meal, for the price of the clothing I'm currently wearing?"

"Do you know how many people would not get a square meal if the fashion industry didn't exist?" Miranda retorted in a low voice, "the economic benefit to this city from Fashion Week alone, surpasses that from the Marathon, the U.S. Open, or even the Super Bowl when it's here. Not to mention the fact that citywide the industry pays nearly $11 billion in wages and generates almost $2 billion in tax revenue each year."

Andy knew that as a journalist she ought to have a come back for that, but it was with relief that she noticed someone stepping out in front of them who was clearly about to speak.

#~~~#

"Caroline was great," Andy said in her ear when everyone had finished and the clapping was dying down, "the best I've heard her perform." Miranda agreed, although she did wonder how many times Andréa had been there for her daughters, when she had been unable to get away from work. "Can I take a look at that?" Andy asked, indicating the program, and Miranda handed it to her. She opened it, studied it for a few moments and was just closing it again when Miranda nudged her. She looked up to see Caroline coming towards them, with a woman who was obviously a member of the faculty. They rose together and Miranda put a hand delicately round her arm.

"Mum, this is Professor Archer, the music faculty director," Caroline said as they reached them. "Professor Archer, this is my mother Miranda Priestly and her girlfriend Andy Sachs," then she went to stand on the other side of Andy.

"Ms Priestly, Ms Sachs, it's a pleasure to meet you both," the Professor said into what appeared to be the sudden silence of the room.

"Please call me Andy," Andy replied, her voice sounding a little strained to her own ears. She would have held out a hand to shake, but for the fact that her left still held the program, and the fingers now curled around her right bicep were currently cutting off all circulation to her lower arm.

The Professor smiled, then turned towards Miranda, "Ms Priestly, you have a very talented daughter," she said.

Miranda smiled back, and Andy wondered if the rigor mortis that had so clearly set into her hand had also affected her jaw, since it seemed to take a moment for her to prise it open and say "thank you, I think so."

"I understand from Caroline that it was you who encouraged her to play the piano?"

"Since I felt it was a skill she might enjoy having, I merely allowed her the opportunity to learn, and then listened to her progress," Miranda replied. "All children should be allowed the opportunity to pursue their talents, don't you think?"

"Absolutely," the professor replied, "all though when I said, encouraged, I did mean literally. So many parents want their children to excel, yet shut them away in a room and tell them to practice, then drag them out to play when they wish to show them off. Caroline tells me you always listened to every practice that you were home for, even at the beginning, which is often a difficult time for parents."

"Any skill worth acquiring takes time," Miranda replied, "and there will always be rough patches, but supporting ones children, no matter what, is surely a priority for any parent."

The professor agreed and went on to talk about Caroline's progress with the Chopin Nocturnes as Andy listened for a few moments longer, and then surreptitiously turned her head and mouthed quietly to Caroline, "I don't think your mother wants you calling me her girlfriend."

Caroline frowned back at her, "well what should we call you then?" she whispered, eyeing her mother who was listening attentively to her professor. Then added, "not mom."

"No!"Andy tried to restrain her head from jerking in shock and managed to tone it down to a slight twitch, "but maybe—" she stopped as the pain in her arm increased where Miranda was still gripping it like a vise, and turned back to the original conversation, trying to look attentive. Miranda's grip eased off again as both she and the professor turned to look at her. "Professor Archer was just saying that she thinks that Caroline would benefit greatly from a trip a colleague is organizing, to the Montreal International Jazz Festival this summer darling," Miranda said.

"Oh, um, really? Well that's nice dear." Andy winced, both from the increased pain that suddenly shot through her arm again, and total mortification at the fact that she'd sounded just like her father. She tried to gather her wits as Caroline kicked her foot and continued "I mean, I think it's a great idea. It is the biggest jazz festival in the world after all, and isn't Oliver Jones playing his own work this year?"

"I'm impressed, he's not that well known outside of Jazz circles," the professor said smiling at her, "you must be a fan."

"Well, in my own way," Andy replied, "I certainly enjoy hearing Caroline play him whenever I get the chance, and I know she's a great fan of his work, she did play Blues for Hélène as her last piece today after all." Miranda looked sharply at her daughter and Caroline groaned softly against Andy's arm.

They carried on talking for a few more minutes, before another parent claimed the professor's attention, and as they were left on their own Miranda said quietly, "We do not get other people to do our dirty work Caroline. If you wish to go, just ask… and do not involve Andréa in your schemes again, subtlety has never been her strong suit."

Andy looked momentarily outraged, and was about to dispute that fact when Miranda finally let go of her arm, and then she was more concerned with resisting the temptation to windmill it, in order to restart her circulation. Instead she merely shook it discreetly at her side, though even this was enough to earn a momentary scowl from her companion.

Fortunately Cassidy came back and said happily, "great work Ro. Now can we go eat, I'm starving."

"You're always starving," Caroline replied, and rolled her eyes as Cassidy stuck out her tongue.

"Girls," Miranda said and they both looked at her.

"Sorry mum," they said in unison, though neither looked contrite and Andy bit her lip as Miranda sighed.

"Take my advice and never have children," she said.

Andy took a step forward, turned, and slipped an arm over the shoulders of each twin, grateful that her right one still appeared to function, "oh come on Miranda, I think you've done a great job!… Also, I skipped lunch, so I know it's early, but I'm with Cassidy on this," she grinned.

Miranda took in the three people standing in front of her and fought not to smile at the picture they presented, then she fought not to roll her own eyes as the twins put on their most hopeful faces, that often reminded her of Patricia as a puppy, which was presumably where they had copied it from.

"Very well," she relented, "and to what culinary delights am I to be subjected today?"

The twins looked at each other and grinned, "Ethiopian," they said in unison.

"Only if you wish to be embarrassed by my demanding cutlery this time," Miranda replied.

Cassidy mumbled something under her breath and then looked at her watch and said, "fine, how about Marea?"

"Acceptable," Miranda nodded, taking care that her lips did not twitch into a small smile until only Andréa was left standing in front of her. The reporter grinned back, then chanced her other arm and hooked it out at her companion, an eyebrow rose on the face in front of her, but this time Miranda accepted the challenge.

Ignoring the fact that other people seemed to part in front of them like waves on the Red Sea, they walked outside and Andy left Miranda with the twins, as she went out on to the sidewalk to hail a cab. "So how'd you like your new stepmom?" said a voice she recognized, and her head snapped back towards the gate. The two paps who had been following her before were baiting the twins, who in turn had closed ranks in front of their mother.

"A whole lot better than our stepfathers, thanks!" Cassidy snapped defensively as a cab pulled up, and Andy opened the nearest door before walking round and getting in the front. The twins sat either side of their mother, making sure both doors were firmly shut before they told the driver their destination.

"Sorry mum," Cassidy said quietly when they were seated in the restaurant, "I know you told us never to talk to them, but—"

Miranda put a hand over her daughter's, "I appreciate your defending Andréa."

"So do I," Andy said, "those two creeps have been following me around all morning." Miranda looked at the woman seated to her left but refrained from saying anything. Andréa took her hand though, and for a heart-stopping moment Miranda thought she was going to kiss it. "Hey, no frowning" she said instead, "it's only to be expected, remember your motto."

"Her motto?" Caroline asked confused.

Andy grinned, turning towards her, "yeah, dirt diggers like them are obviously going to follow me around, because as your mother once told me, everybody wants to be us."

The twins grinned and high-fived each other, repeating the phrase, and then Caroline looked at Andy again before all too casually linking her fingers with those the reporter had on the table. "So," she said smirking, "they had a point, when are you going to make an honest woman of our mother?"

Andy could feel the heat in her face, and the shock that ran through the hand she had just realized was still clasped in hers, "I, uh…"

"Caroline!" Miranda choked, and Andy was pleased the imp hadn't waited until either of them had taken a drink before entertaining herself.

"No, it's ok," Andy said, "we're um, we're not at that point yet, but you two will definitely be the first to know." Andy turned and smiled at her reassuringly, the twins grinned at her, and recovering from the shock of her daughter's question, Miranda let the unexpected joy of a meal with her family wash over her for a second, before she remembered again that it wasn't real.

#~~~#

Andy was still smiling when she got back to her apartment. She climbed the stairs to find Doug leaning against the wall, watching Lily who was pacing, "about time!" she said.

Andy frowned, "Um, sorry. Did we arrange something? Because I don't remem—"

"No," Lily cut in, "this is an intervention before you have a complete breakdown. Because why the hell else would you be swanning around town with the Wicked Witch of the West!"

"Don't call her that!"

"Don't call her that? You called her that! In fact as I recall, after she ruined the best relationship you ever had, after you quit your job when you were half way around the world and used most of your savings to get back home, you not only called her that, but also vowed never to speak to her again!"

"Yeah, well… that was years ago, and things change… besides most of what I said back then was a heat of the moment kind of thing, because of something that had absolutely nothing to do with my relationship with Nate… and don't forget that despite the fact that I left her on the most important week of the year, she was still big enough to give me a reference for the job of my dreams."

"The job of your dreams?" Doug asked skeptically.

"Well the first rung of it anyway," she grinned at him, then turned back to Lily, "and she didn't have to do that, she could have blackballed me from every journalism job in the tristate area without a second thought."

"Oh yeah, because she's all heart. You dumped her at a fashion show Andy, it was not the Cuban Missile Crisis."

Andy opened her mouth to dispute that when Doug said, "um guys, I think we should take this inside" and nodded down the hallway.

Andy followed his gaze, "Hi Mrs Kowalski," she said, lifting a hand at her neighbor before moving to open her door. Then she turned to Lily, "are you planning on continuing this? Because I've mostly had a good day. The good part, I should add, was spent with Miranda, who, whether you like it or not, is currently a big part of my life and I really don't want to spend the evening arguing with my friends about that."

"Fine," Lily said grumpily, "but I don't need to hear about how wonderful she is either."

Andy laughed, "I've seen and thought about Miranda a lot lately, but I can honestly say that that particular adjective has not once crossed my mind."

She pushed open the door and Lily walked through it as Doug caught Andy's arm and whispered, "Nate called her this morning, she's been like this ever since."

"Great" Andy sighed, "that's all I need."

#~~~#

It was only to be expected however, that Lily would not be able to keep off the subject of Miranda Priestly for long, and after one too many heated exchanges; this time involving accusations that things had been going on with her ex-boss while Andy was still going out with Nate, she departed with Doug in tow, who promised to smooth things over. As Andy tried to take her mind off her disintegrating relationships with her friends, she remembered all the ignored messages on her cell. Acknowledging the fact that she'd rather stay in her current mood, than descend further into the depths of what her family thought, she cast around for something else to do. Five minutes later she looked out of the window and wondered if she should start asking the bakery for royalties, as she watched yet another photographer walk out, bagel in hand. She sighed, picked up her cell and dialed. "Hey, you know I was practically an honorary Priestly earlier…" she said as Caroline answered the call, "well can I come over and use your laundry room in the morning? I really don't need pictures of me washing my underwear turning up in newspapers."

"Sure," Caroline replied, "but why aren't you asking Mum?"

"She'll have a lot of work to do and I don't want to disturb her," Andy replied, knowing it would be true. Besides, she had the feeling that a day spent away from Miranda might be good for her sanity, since she was beginning to realize that she was enjoying her company far too much.

#~~~#

"So you had an eventful weekend," Vince said as he sat down next to her on Monday morning.

"Ugh don't," Andy replied frowning. There was hardly anyone in at this time of the morning, which was why she liked it, and Vince never got in before 10, so something serious must have happened to have dragged him in hours early. "You know, for the first time ever I'm starting to hate my profession," she said. "Or certain elements in it at least. I mean, with the crime rate in this city, I'm starting to think we should hire paps instead of cops, because they sure seem a hell of a lot more efficient at tracking people down."

"Well they could always stick 'em on leashes and use them as sniffer dogs," Vince said.

Andy laughed at the image, "thanks," she grinned, "I needed that!"

"Hey, the Rangers look like they're heading to the playoffs, so I can afford to be generous," he replied. Then before she could say anything else, he took a quick look around the room and continued in a voice barely above a whisper, "Ok, so you are really not going to like this, but I swear I didn't know about it until last night, and honestly, I still wish I could unknow it, but I figured I should tell you anyway," leaving Andy even more confused than she had been before.

"Okaaay" she replied in an equally low voice, "what's going on?"

He sighed, then said, "open google and type in Mirandy, M, I, R—"

He stopped as Andy hissed, "are you serious?"

"Trust me, I wish I wasn't!" he replied, then left and Andy turned back to her screen and started to type, looking nervously over her shoulder before she pressed enter. Vince was now talking to Karen, currently the only other person in the room, and conveniently standing in her sightline to Andy's desk, she made a mental note to go out and get him pastries later and pressed enter. She flinched at the number of links and then noticed that the top few all went to the same website. Clicking on one, she rolled her eyes at the photo of Miranda getting out of the town car at Elias Clark that appeared, and clicked on the home page. She was surprised to find that it was actually a website dedicated to fashion, past and present. It had been running since 1996 and the owner clearly had a thing for 'The Goddess of Style', aka Miranda Priestly. She clicked on the lurid pink button that said "Mirandy Watch" on the top navigation bar, and was assailed with a long minute by minute feed of where she and Miranda had been for nearly all of the last two weeks. This mainly consisted of lots of pictures of Miranda getting out of, or in to, the town car, and of her running all over the city, doing her job. There were the obvious pap photo's, but most of the images looked like they'd been taken on smart phones, and there was a small caption under each one, place, date, time and what she assumed was the name of the photographer, or at least what they went by when they were totally invading other people's privacy. No wonder people didn't want to talk to her.

Taking a deep breath, she scrolled all the way to the bottom of the page. Fortunately it didn't start until after the movie so her meetings with Ryan seemed to have gone unnoticed. She stared at the picture taken outside the movie theater for a moment, before reading the text underneath, "Is La Priestly family?"

After looking at Miranda again for longer than was necessary, she blinked, as the thought crossed her mind that Miranda was going to kill her. Her next, was that it had all been Miranda's idea to start with, although she doubted that pointing that out would help. Her last was that Miranda must never know.

"Sachs," she was pulled out of her thoughts by her boss yelling from across the room, her finger twitched on the mouse and the page was gone. She turned to look at him, "my office, now" he finished and disappeared back inside. Andy, wondering what was coming, locked her laptop, got up and walked towards the open door. Conscious of the fact that Vince and Karen were now watching, she shut it behind her.

"Sit down," Greg said in a quieter tone, and she did so. "So," he continued, "Grace Lyons just went into active labor."

"She did? That's great! Chris has been on edge for days now wondering when it was going to happen."

"It is great, but since he's now officially on paternity leave, I'm going to need you to get up to speed on the Occupy Wall Street trials."

"Me? But I'm not a legal reporter."

"I know, but you did cover cases when you were at Northwestern, so you're the closest thing we've got right now." Andy looked at him, "quit pursing your lips Sachs, jeez you're even starting to act like her."

Andy's eyes widened, "that's what this is about?"

"No, it's about the fact that I'm down a reporter… that you'll be somewhere that has an enforced ban on cameras, is merely a bonus right now."

"But what about my feature on—"

"It'll still be there when Chris comes back. It's only for a couple of weeks, and trust me, if the powers that be see many more photos of you all over the competition, then you're not going to need to worry about it at all. So do us both a favor, and take the assignment at face value." He sighed, then added, "you're good at your job Andy and I don't want to lose you, but this has come from over my head."