The Joys of Fatherhood

Prologue

Miranda let herself into the townhouse. It had been another extremely long day fraught with constant irritations due to other people's incompetence. She was just glad to be home. She'd been looking forward to crawling into bed and curling around her Andréa for the last several hours. A flash of guilt hit her at the thought. She had missed yet another of Andréa's work functions tonight; though, according to Emily, her wife had seemed understanding when Emily had called to cancel. There had been far too many missed occasions since they had married. Miranda's lips twisted ruefully as she admitted to herself that it was never Andréa who changed their plans at the last minute. As busy as Andréa was, she always found the time to be present when Miranda or their children needed her.

Hanging her coat in the closet, Miranda sighed. She needed to make more of an effort. She knew that, but there never seemed to be enough time. Never enough time for all that she sought to do. She kept telling herself that she'd make it up to Andréa, that she'd take time off so they could get away together. However, every time she planned to do so, there was always some fire to put out at Runway, some urgent reason that kept Miranda from spending the earmarked time with Andréa. Not even Andréa's pregnancy had changed that.

Miranda smiled softly as she gathered her bag and the Book to start up the stairs. Andréa was even more beautiful with her belly swollen with their child. Miranda wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around her wife and clasp the swell that housed their son. A son. Miranda still could not quite grasp that concept. Their baby was a boy. Whatever will I do with a male child? My life is built on all things feminine, Miranda thought as she entered her study. She was surprised to see Andréa standing before the large windows, looking out into the back garden, though what she could see in the dark of night Miranda had no idea. She had thought Andréa would be long asleep by now.

"Darling? Are you all right?" Miranda asked, crossing to place her things on the desk. She moved to stand beside her wife.

"No. No, I'm not." Andréa glanced at her before returning her gaze to the darkness outside the window. "You weren't there, Miranda. You're never there. Not for parties, or birthdays or anniversaries."

"Andréa, I explained why I needed to miss tonight's event," Miranda huffed. She was much too tired to deal with recriminations tonight.

"No," Andréa said, shaking her head. "Emily explained. I didn't speak to you at all."

"Is that what this is about? That I had Emily call? I was in the middle of a meeting. If I'd waited until I was free to call, the event would have been over," Miranda defended her choice.

Andréa never looked around. Her eyes stayed trained toward the glass in front of her. "And when the baby is born? What happens when I go into labor? Will you send Emily to the delivery room in your place? Or just have her call with your excuses?"

"Andréa, I-," Miranda began, but stopped when Andréa held up her hand.

"There's nothing you can say now, Miranda. I spent the entire night having to explain your absence, and somewhere in the middle of all that, I realized that's all I've ever done. If I allow it, it's all I'll ever do. Explain why you weren't with me. It occurred to me that I was as much explaining it to myself as to anyone who inquired about you." She finally turned to face Miranda. "I love you more than I ever thought it possible to love another person, but there's someone coming I love even more." Andréa rested her hand on her stomach and smiled softly. "A mother's love is the strongest there is. You love the twins that way, more than you do me. I've always known that. It's how it's supposed to be. I love him that way."

She stroked over her distended belly as if stroking the child within. "I can't let you do to him what you do to me. I have to protect him from that, from the constant disappointments." Andréa took a deep breath, as if to steel herself for what she was about to say. "We're leaving you, Miranda. I don't want you to follow me or try to contact me. His life will be better without you in it. At least the way things are now, it will."

"Y-you're leaving?" Miranda gasped and took a weak step back, bringing her up against the front of the desk. The solidness of the wood was reassuring in a world that suddenly seemed to spin around her. She drew strength from its bulk. "He is my child too, Andréa. You cannot just take him away."

Andréa laughed bitterly and gestured to her stomach. "As you can see, he goes where I go. He was yours because I said so. You invested no genetic material in his conception. You weren't even there for the prenatal visits, always too busy with Runway. If your face wasn't always spread across the tabloids and society pages, the doctor wouldn't even know what you look like. And the papers we had drawn up? They can't be legally signed until after his birth. You can have your lawyer tear them up; I won't be signing."

"How will you support yourself?" Miranda switched to a more logical argument. If putting the child first was Andréa's motivation, then Miranda wasn't above using it for her own purposes."Children are expensive. There are medical visits, food, clothing and a decent home. Do you wish to subject our child to that pest-infested apartment you were in when we began dating? He deserves better. Surely you can see that?"

"He deserves two parents who are there for him and who he can count on. Since he only has one of those now, I doubt he'll notice the other one isn't around, not that you would be anyway. As for the rest, I have money, Miranda. My own money. If you'd been at the ceremony tonight you'd know that. My last two novels made the best seller list; you knew that. This one just hit number one. That's what tonight was about, Miranda. Not just another literary award, but the National Book Award and an acknowledgement of having the top selling book in the country. Hell, Oprah even picked it up for her book club. Have you even read it, Miranda? I know you haven't here at home. I made sure there were no copies around here this time, and Emily would have told me if you'd sent one of them out for one." Andréa crossed her arms over her chest defensively. "And don't you dare take it out on Emily. I told her I wanted to surprise you with a copy and begged her to let me know if you got one first. So answer me, have you read it?"

"No," Miranda admitted. She snapped her lips closed before she could utter the excuse that she'd been too busy. Andréa had reached the pinnacle of her career, and she'd been too involved with Runway to even notice.

"You should," Andréa replied. "Read it, I mean. It's about you, about us. A rather foolish young woman marries above her station to a charismatic workaholic. It's not a nice book, Miranda. It's page after page of heartbreak until the girl finally wises up and walks away to salvage what she can of her life. There's hope at the end, but it's shadowed by her knowledge that she'll never love anyone else that way again. In the last scene she walks out of the darkness that their home has become and into the sunlight. Whatever is out there has to be better than what she's leaving behind. After all, she's no more alone than she'd be if she stayed. Our story, Miranda, and now, our ending. What does it matter where I live when I'm alone either way? I'm going now. I texted Roy after you left the car. He's waiting for me now. I figured even if I was leaving you, you'd prefer I not take the subway to do it."

Miranda watched as Andréa walked to the door. "Andréa, please."

Andréa paused for a moment and then shook her head. "I wouldn't believe your promises if I waited to listen to them. You've made them all before and broken them just as quickly. At least I told you to your face, instead of faxing or phoning it in. That's some kind of improvement for you, I guess. Good-bye, Miranda."

And that quickly Andréa was gone. A moment later Miranda heard the closing of the front door and a motor roar to life. With leaden steps Miranda moved to drop into her desk chair. She sat staring out into space, her mind cataloguing the endless days ahead of her without Andréa, without their child. She had hurt her wife in ways she hadn't even been aware of. If she'd taken the time to look, she would have.

The pain in her chest was almost unbearable, but Miranda welcomed it, a small indication that she was still alive. She accepted the pain and the loss as her due. Another marriage had ended, but this time it was Miranda who hadn't been faithful. Perhaps it had always been that way. Had she always been the first to be unfaithful, sacrificing every marriage to her love affair with Runway? The thought kept her in her chair until the first rays of light reached through the windows to caress her face, and still she had no answers.

Chapter 1

The Present

Andy sat in the back seat of the town car as it moved slowly through traffic. She was running behind, but couldn't bring herself to be concerned by it. There were far more anxiety-provoking thoughts occupying her at the moment as she questioned her intelligence in opting to move back to New York for the duration of filming the third movie to be made from her series of novels. She'd left Miranda but had never quite been able to sever the last tie she had to her. The book that had served as her impetus to leave had evolved into a series of novels. She'd never meant to begin writing in the supernatural genre, hadn't even realized she'd foreshadowed such things in the first book. That is until she'd been talking to Serena one night about being stumped in her then current story.

She'd left Miranda's that night and had just managed to get to the airport in time to board her flight. She'd realized staying in New York would put her much too close to Miranda and the constant reminders of her wife in the papers. She'd had her agent arrange an apartment, a doctor, and an assistant to meet her when her plane had touched down in Los Angeles. It was as far as she could think to go from the life she'd had. Her assistant, Angie, had proved a godsend. The woman was well-versed in all things LA and Hollywood, which had proven invaluable when Andy was approached to turn her best-seller into a movie. The negotiations had lasted long past her delivery date. Her son, Randall Priestly Sachs, had entered the world in the wee hours of the morning with Angie acting as coach. Aunt Angie, as she'd been dubbed, had been instrumental in finding a nanny and had even helped Andy to format an acceptable screenplay.

With the script delivered, Andy had turned to completing her next novel only to find herself stuck. The characters refused to go where she directed and adamantly stood their ground. More often than not, Andy found herself deleting several hours of work and opting to spend time with her son instead. She was expressing her frustrations to Serena in one of their twice weekly phone calls when her friend had suggested she follow up on the supernatural thread she'd woven into her last book.

"What supernatural thread?" Andy asked, amazed by the idea.

"You did not mean to do so? Even Emily saw it, and you know how she is about anything that doesn't scream avant-garde fashion or mainstream romance," Serena replied laughing. "The odd hours your hero kept, the strange events, the darkness that seemed to pervade all his associates. I believed surely that you would reveal him to be a vampire or werewolf or something equally as dangerous."

"I—," Andy stopped and thought back through the story she had written. "You're right. I just put it down to work obsession on all their parts, sorta like the way Runway sucks you all in. But it could have a very different explanation. You know, I even did it in the script. I'll have to think about it more." Even as she said it, Andy could feel the stirrings in her imagination. Her characters began to breathe and push to move forward. She continued to talk to Serena about the goings on in New York and with her relationship with Emily. All the while her mind churned with potential dialogue and scenes. There was even the kernel of another book or two forming. She needed to get Angie on the research and make a call to the producers of the film. If this were going to become a series, there were a few minor changes that had to be made to the script to line it up with any future movies.

Staring out at the New York scenery creeping by, Andy snorted softly. That had proven to be a most eventful phone call, and she'd even acknowledged it in the dedication of her finished novel. The series had taken off. Her main character, Julia, had moved through one impossible situation after another in her evolving role as leader of a ragtag band of supernatural beings. Each subsequent story had hit the big screen almost as fast as Andy could pen them. The books had started a firestorm that filled Andy's bank accounts to overflowing. Through it all she'd made sure that Randy had never once felt pushed aside in favor of her work.

Andy smiled down at the dark head that lay nestled in her lap. The excitement of the move had kept him from sleeping well the night before, and the steady purr of the engine coupled with the gentle swaying of the car had lulled him to sleep within moments. Coming back to New York with her son was a calculated move, but Andy really didn't feel she had a choice. The current film had Julia returning to New York for a final confrontation with her past. The book and the film would premiere within days of each other. It was a massive publicity push that had taken months to orchestrate with the only problem being Andy had yet to write the ending of either one. The text was due to her editor the day after the final scenes were shot. Everyone involved believed Andy was sitting on the final pages to keep the resolution of the two characters meeting from getting out. Those scenes were to be shot on a heavily guarded soundstage, and everyone associated with both the book and film had signed ironclad confidentiality statements. The actors wouldn't receive those precious pages of dialogue until the morning of the shoot, something they were all nervous about but willing to live with for the promise of a Christmas blockbuster like no other. Andy just wished she knew how it would end herself. So far, she was stymied.

Stroking the silken hair of her son, she sighed. What had possessed her to walk into the dragon's den today she didn't know. Emily had sworn that Miranda would be out of the office all day. The producers had insisted on as much publicity as they could manage and had struck upon the idea of previewing the costuming in one or the other of the top fashion magazines, all of which had vied for the privilege. In good conscience, Andy couldn't allow that coupe to be handed to anyone but her ex-wife. She had decided to hedge her bets and exercised her option to approve the layouts. She was sure Miranda would pass since she never allowed anyone to approve the tiniest detail of what appeared in Runway except herself. Andy was positive if Miranda ever made an exception, it wouldn't be for her ex-wife of all people. She was flabbergasted when Emily called to arrange an appointment for Andy to view the layouts with the assurance that Andy didn't have to see Miranda if she preferred not to.

As the car drew up in front of the Elias-Clarke building, Andy pinched the bridge of her nose, still frustrated that today of all days both her nanny, Tina, and Angie were unavailable to watch Randy. The two had fallen in love while working for Andy, and she'd stood with them at their wedding. Tina, now expecting their first child, had not taken the move well and was in bed under a doctor's care. Angie was borderline hysterical with worry, not that she let the first iota of it show, and Andy didn't have the heart to ask that either deal with a rambunctious four-year-old on top of everything else. They were family now, and she was thrilled they'd agreed to accompany her to New York for the next year. She had rented a Fifth Avenue penthouse and installed them into the adjoining apartment. Originally intended as servant's quarters, Andy had the space enlarged and remodeled, chopping some of the footage off her dwelling to make sure they would be comfortable. They now had a spacious three-bedroom apartment with an office for Angie and a connecting door to Andy's side. She also made sure that theirs opened onto the rooftop garden and pool as well.

Gently caressing her son's back, Andy called to him softly. "Randy. Baby, wake up for Mommy. We're here."

Long dark lashes that would be the envy of every model in Runway rose slowly and blinked over sleepy blue-grey eyes. "Mommy?" he asked with a small frown. "See the pitchers?"

"Yes, Sweetie, we're going to see the pictures. Not only that, you get to see Auntie Serena and Auntie Emily, too," she told him, smiling wider as his eyes popped open.

"Auntie 'Rena?" Randy sat up quickly. "Auntie Em'ly too?"

"Yep, they're upstairs, waiting for you. You're going to hang out with them while I talk to Nigel." The driver opened the door, and Andy slid from the car. With her son's hand held firmly in her own, she took a deep breath and entered the dragon's lair.

The ride up in the elevator was surprisingly quiet as Randy gazed up, wide-eyed, at the tall women around them. He was used to seeing beautiful women on the sets of his mother's movies, but evidently so many in such a small space had him mesmerized. Andy suppressed a smile as he looked them each over carefully. There were times she couldn't swear Miranda hadn't managed to contribute a few genes after all. Her heart hitched at the thought of her ex-wife being so close after all this time. Close, but not too close, Andy thought ruefully. Miranda was supposed to be in an executive staff meeting at the moment, and they never ran anything but long, especially if Irv was on the warpath again, as Emily had hinted.

The elevator doors opened, and Andy led the way to the reception area. "I'm here to see Nigel Kipling," she informed the thin, young woman behind the desk.

"Andy!"

Andy turned just in time to be swept up into long arms. "Serena! It's great to see you. It seems like forever." Andy returned the hug enthusiastically.

"Auntie 'Rena! Auntie 'Rena!" Randy squealed bouncing on his toes.

Serena dropped to her knees and caught him into her arms. "Only since Christmas," she said to Andy as she stood with her precious burden and then turned her attention to Randy. "How is my favorite man today?"

"I'm great! We see Auntie Em'ly?" he asked wiggling with glee.

"There a small problem there," Serena admitted. "Irv cancelled the meeting quite suddenly."

"What?" Andy felt her stomach sinking. Her first instinct was to get out of there with her son as fast as possible. "We can reschedule." She reached to take Randy, a move Serena easily sidestepped.

"Nonsense. Randy and I will tour the offices while you meet with Nigel. Emily will join us for dinner as soon as she can get away." She shrugged as if it was all settled.

"But not Miranda's office," Andy stated emphatically.

Randy looked up in rapt attention at the mention of the name.

"She does not even know you're in the building, Andy. We will go around through the Editorial department and meet Nigel in the small conference room off the Art department. I'm not sure Miranda has ever been in it or even knows it's there," Serena assured her.

"Miranda? Not know something about Runway? What universe have you been living in? She knows if a model sneezes in the lobby. Of course, she's going to know I'm here. That was the point of scheduling during a meeting she couldn't walk out of with any ease," Andy huffed, not at all happy with this turn of events.

"Andy, you are here. This will only take a few moments. Randy will be with me. There is nothing to worry about."

"Right. Famous last words. Usually uttered right before disaster hits," Andy griped and then sighed. The truth was she didn't have another free minute this week, and she wasn't going to take away from her time with Randy for this or any other business. "Okay, fine. Let's get this over with."

Serena left Andy with Nigel after a heartfelt greeting and much exclamation on Randy's growth and handsomeness. Randy took it all with good grace. He instantly liked the bald man with the colorful clothes. He trotted along beside his aunt as she showed him the various departments of the magazine. Over and over he kept hearing that magical name. The one his mommy never said to him but talked about to his various aunts. His Auntie Em'ly had even said he had eyes just like M'anda's. All of his friends had a mommy and a daddy except for Susie who had two daddies. Randy had overheard enough to know that his mommy had been married to M'randa when he was still in her tummy. Randy had drawn what was for him a logical conclusion from that information. He bided his time meeting all the pretty ladies that worked in the rooms that Auntie 'Rena took him to.

"Where does Auntie Em'ly work?" he asked, looking around.

"She is down that hallway, all the way at the end, but she is very busy today. You will see her tonight at dinner," Serena assured him as she steered her young charge into the beauty department. "This is where I work."

After a moment of showing him different things that she did, Serena became distracted by a co-worker who rushed in urgently. Randy knew that grownups were like that about work. There was always something to capture their attention if you just waited long enough. He also knew that Auntie Em'ly's desk was right outside M'randa's office. So if he found one, he'd find the other. The moment Serena turned her back, he slipped out the door. Hugging the wall as much as possible to escape notice, he dodged the random person until a large rack of clothes being pushed by yet another pretty woman came up beside him. He ducked in amongst the clothes and walked right past his aunt, unseen.

"Put them over there. Why can no one follow directions? That's all."

The softly spoken words made him shiver. There was power in that quiet voice. Was that M'randa? He peeked out from between two long dresses and stared at the woman he saw. Her hair was as white as Susie's kitten and looked just as soft. Randy didn't think he'd ever seen anyone as pretty except his mommy. The woman had glasses perched on the end of her nose and was staring down at the papers in front of her. He had to see her eyes. Mommy, Auntie 'Rena, Auntie Em'ly, even Mr. Nigel said he had eyes just like M'randa's. He'd know whether they were right if he could just see them. Cautiously he left the security of the hanging clothes and inched his way across the room.

"I am sure you think you have a very good reason for coming in here unannounced," Miranda said, not looking up from the article she was reading. "I assure you it is not good enough."

Randy opened his mouth but only a small squeak emerged. The woman looked up, and her eyes widened as they met his. Her beautiful blue-grey eyes. He knew but found he still had to ask. "Are you my da?"

Chapter 2

Andy had just finished approving the final layout with only a change or two overall when Serena burst into the room.

"Is Randy with you?" Serena gasped out.

"You lost my son?" Andy snapped, glaring at her friend.

"We were in the Beauty department. Jocelyn asked me a question, and when we finished he was just gone. He can't have left the floor." Serena explained, wringing her hands.

"What was the last thing you two talked about?" Andy insisted.

"He asked where…" Serena groaned as realization hit. "He asked where Emily worked."

"And you told him?" Andy screeched.

"Worse. I pointed it out to him." Serena dropped her face into her hands. "He's gone to find Emily."

"Who just happens to be sitting in front of Miranda. Dammit, Serena, if she tries to take my son, I'm going to beat you with last year's Jimmy Choos," Andy threatened as she ran from the room.

"Someone should tell her that threat only works on Emily," Nigel commented as he followed the rapidly disappearing Andy. "I detest running."

"Then move. I am very good at it," Serena shot around him and raced after Andy. Her longer legs quickly covered the distance, and she was right behind Andy as they entered Emily's work area.

"Andy, what are you doing here?" Emily asked in amazement.

"Where is he, Em? I know he came here." Andy managed while struggling to control her breathing.

"Who? Randy? I haven't seen him. I've been on the phone the last hour, but I'm sure I would have seen if he'd come through here." Emily tried to assure Andy.

"Andréa."

The voice she'd only heard in her dreams for the last four and a half years caused Andy to cringe. She did not want to see Miranda, especially not now when she had no idea where her son had gone.

"I believe what you seek is here," Miranda said.

Squeezing her hands into fists at her sides, Andy moved reluctantly into Miranda's office. She nearly wept when she saw Randy perched in Miranda's lap studying the photos she had spread across her desk.

"She doesn't look good in that colors," he said pointing to one image.

"Indeed, she doesn't," Miranda agreed. "You have a very good eye. Now I believe your mother has been worried about you."

Randy looked up and grinned at his mommy. "Look, Mommy. I found my da!"

Andy almost laughed at the tiny grimace that ghosted over Miranda's face. "Miranda isn't your daddy, Sweetie," Andy corrected him.

"Yes, she is," Randy insisted, large tears welling up. "I gots her eyes. You said so. They said so." He pointed behind her to Emily and Serena. "M'randa's my da!"

"Oh, Baby." Andy rushed to his side and dropped to her knees. "Miranda's a woman. Women aren't daddies. They're mommies, like I'm your mommy."

He threw his arms around Miranda's neck and buried his face in her chest, sobbing. "No! I gets to have a da, too. I do! Please, don't take my da away. Please, mommy?"

Andy sat back on her heels, fighting to control her own tears. She ached to hold her son, but knowing the strength of that grip when he was upset, there was no way to separate the two without hurting one or the other, if not both. Andy wasn't willing to risk it. She hadn't realized how much Randy missed having a second parent. All his friends had two.

Andy hadn't really thought of it before, but the parents of the members of his small playgroup were all coupled. Be they married or longtime partners, gay or straight, they were all paired off except herself, nor were any of them female same-sex pairings. True, Angie and Tina were women, but they'd not talked about what the baby would call them that Andy could recall. In Randy's small world, every child had at least one daddy, and his best friend Susie called hers daddy and da. Whatever her intentions had been, or might have become concerning Miranda interacting with her son, Randy had made his own decision.

"Randy? Baby, look at me please?" Andy asked, reaching out to run a soothing hand over his back. She forced a smile as he peeked at her with one eye as startling as the pair that watched them silently, as if Miranda was waiting for a judgment. Andy noticed she made no move to embrace the small, forlorn figure in her lap. "I didn't know you knew about Miranda."

Randy nodded his head, rubbing it against Miranda' s silk shirt which imparted who knew what wrinkles and caused Andy to cringe. So help me, if she says one thing about him messing up her clothes… Andy thought. She can't even touch him.

"You talks about her, but not to me. You was married to M'randa, and I was in your tummy then." He squeezed his arms tighter and burrowed closer to Miranda. Sobs shook his small body, and Miranda's arms closed around him, cuddling him to her.

"Shhh, Little One. It's going to be all right," Miranda assured him.

Andy looked at them helplessly. Her son wanted his other parent, and being honest, that was Miranda, da or not. It tore at her that soon enough Miranda would break his heart as she had hers. Miranda had once pointed out there was always a choice, but in this instance, was there really? Andy couldn't knowingly break her son's heart, and right now, it was set on Miranda. The only problem was that Andy's heart had never ceased to be set on the same woman. Letting her into Randy's life meant letting her into Andy's as well. Putting a continent between them and never seeing her was the only way Andy had survived without Miranda so far. How was she supposed to cope if that changed? She knew bringing Randy here would be disastrous, but in many ways it was also inevitable.

She watched Miranda soothe the child they had planned together. As Miranda's hands stroked his hair and back, Andy couldn't help but remember those same hands cradling her burgeoning stomach each night. She'd never doubted Miranda had wanted their son; Andy had doubted she could follow through on the parenting front. Miranda was quite capable of love; it was how she chose to express it that was in question. Andy hadn't wanted her child raised by only herself and a nanny. The ultimate irony, she thought wryly. Since that's exactly what had happened.

When Randy's tears slowly ebbed and he lay quiescent against Miranda, Andy leaned over to press a kiss to his head. The scent of Miranda mixed with that of her child struck a chord deep within Andy.

"Randy, Sweetheart, could you go with Auntie Emily for a few minutes? She'll take you to get cleaned up while I talk to…your da, okay?" It had taken more effort than Andy wanted to admit to refer to Miranda that way, and she avoided the eyes she knew were searching her face in favor of the light that glowed from her son's.

"Really?" he said on a soft breath. "I can have my da?"

Andy smiled, unable to risk the sheer hope on his face. "That's what I want to talk to Miranda about. Did you ask her if she wanted to be your da?" At his crestfallen look, she rushed to assure him. "See, I need to talk to her and work all that out. You go with Auntie Em. She'll make sure Auntie Serena doesn't lose you again." She rolled her eyes at the small chuckle and a definite harrumph that sounded from the doorway. Helping her son to his feet, Andy hugged him and kissed his damp cheek.

"Come along, Lad. We'll see if we can't find a sweetie for you as well. I don't think your mum will object to just a small one this time," Emily encouraged Randy as she led him away. "You too, Auntie Serena," she called over her shoulder. "We can talk about how this doesn't encourage me to think you can keep up with a little mite of our own."

"But, Emily, you cannot judge my parenting skills by one incident," Serena complained as she followed them, closing the door on her way out.

Andy looked up and met Miranda's eyes. Realizing how close they still were, she rose and moved around the desk to sit in the chair opposite.

"He's beautiful, Andréa, and so intelligent. You're done a remarkable job with him," Miranda said as the silence threatened to stretch indefinitely.

"Evidently, not quite good enough if he thinks a woman is his father," Andy admitted chuckling.

"Yes, there is that small detail," Miranda agreed, the corners of her lips curling in a hint of a smile. "I don't believe the possibility of being the boy's da had ever entered our discussions about having a child."

Miranda referring to her son as "the boy" irritated Andy and she snapped, "He has a name."

"Indeed he does, and a very interesting one, if I may say so." Miranda looked at her pointedly.

Remembering Randy's penchant for introducing himself fully, Andy flushed. "Um, yeah, about that," she started.

"Why ever did you name him such?" Miranda asked, genuine curiosity clear in her expression.

Tell her the truth or not, Andy mused for a moment. Ok, here goes. "Randall because it was the closest I could get to Miranda for a boy. The Priestly part is self-explanatory, and Sachs is my name." She could swear there was the glimmer of tears in those icy blue eyes.

"You named our son for me?" Miranda whispered.

"No, I named my son for you," Andy corrected. It hurt to see the pain her comment caused Miranda, but it was only the truth. "You weren't part of our lives then."

"And whose choice was that, Andréa?" Miranda snapped in the tone that weakened bladders throughout the fashion industry.

"It was as much your choice as anyone's, Miranda," Andy shot back. "Maybe if you'd showed a bit more interest in his gestation, you'd have been around for his birth."

Wordlessly, Miranda leaned forward and turned a small silver picture frame to face Andy, who stared in amazement at the ultrasound photo of Randy. "It's the only picture I have of him, you see," Miranda said quietly. "I had hoped to replace it after he was born, but that opportunity was lost to me."

"How long?" Andy asked, remembering the one pre-natal visit Miranda had made it to on the day of her last ultra-sound in New York.

"I left the doctor's office with it in my bag and brought it here with a small stop to purchase the frame personally. I freely admit to my failings as a partner, Andréa, but never doubt that I loved our son from the moment of his conception. "

"Then why didn't you try to contact us? Why let so much time pass?" Andy inquired.

"Because I loved you with all my heart, and you expressly told me to never do so. I did very little to honor your wishes while we were married, I could at least do so after you left. You were pregnant, Andréa. The doctor called for you the next morning to warn about issues with your blood pressure. He was concerned that you wouldn't comply with his orders to reduce the stress in your life. Little did he know just how well you did listen. I didn't want to be the cause of further risk to our child, nor did I wish to complicate your life unnecessarily. I chose to honor what you asked of me," Miranda concluded, folding her hands on the desk.

"Randy is determined to have you in his life now," Andy stated, leaving the rest to process at a later time.

"Yes," Miranda agreed nodding. "He appears quite adamant on the fact."

"What about you? Is that what you want?" asked Andy, not ready to assume anything when it came to Miranda.

"He's my son, Andréa, regardless of what you said when you left. He is still my son. Of course, I want to spend time with him. How can you think otherwise?" Miranda leaned forward entreatingly.

"If you break his heart, there will be no where you can hide from me, Miranda," Andy warned.

"The way I broke yours, you mean? With my benign negligence."

Ignoring the statement, Andy continued, "I have money and my own influence now. It won't only be a matter of you never seeing him again."

"I could try to persuade you that this time will be different, but I can see that you wouldn't believe me. Therefore, I won't waste either of our times doing so and get to the heart of the issue. When might I see my son? I'm assuming you would prefer to be present the first few times, and I know you have a hectic schedule between the filming and your book appearances." Miranda leaned back and appeared ready to wait for a long as it took for Andy to decide.

"My days end by six. It's in all my contracts. I do very few evening events. Emily and Serena are coming for dinner tonight. You're welcome to join us," Andy offered. She didn't want to be alone with Miranda the first time she visited with Randy. Her ex-wife still had too much pull on her injured heart to remain safe without others present to provide a distraction.

Miranda frowned slightly. "I have—"

Andy cut her off with a resigned sigh. "I know, you have some Runway function. Don't worry about it. Maybe another time." Andy waved it off. She was stupid to hope Miranda was really serious about spending time with her son, no matter what she said.

"I was going to say I have dinner with Caroline and Cassidy tonight. I also try to be home early, though admittedly with them being almost twenty now they're often busy themselves. They seem to have an event every week and often require my attendance. I know they've kept in touch with you by e-mail and text, so you're aware of all their activities. Would it be too much of an imposition to bring them as well? I'd be happy to cover the cost if you preferred to order in, or I could host, whichever you prefer," Miranda explained carefully.

"No, I-," Andy really didn't know what to say. The twins had never said anything about Miranda changing her schedule, though now that she thought about it, Andy realized they'd never mentioned Miranda at all. At first she'd been glad of the fact, but as time went on she'd stopped looking for or dreading the random comment. She realized that Miranda thought she knew, had always known, and had chosen not to acknowledge the fact. Miranda had seemingly made the changes Andy had wanted and stuck to them. Andy was glad for the girls' sakes, but it was too late for her and Miranda. Their time had passed. "I'd love to have them as well. They've only ever seen…" Andy realized the girls hadn't shared the pictures she'd sent with their mother. Caroline and Cassidy had photos of Randy from birth, and Miranda had never seen them.

"Yes." Miranda nodded. "I thought as much. They had asked me once if you should send pictures would I want to see them. I told them that anything you shared with them was for them alone. Still, it would have been nice. He's so beautiful, Andréa. Except for the eyes, he's the image of you. And such an eye he has. Colors, shapes, lines, he knows when they do and do not fit together. Really quite remarkable."

"I know the donor we picked had blue eyes, but I swear your genes got in there somehow. You should have seen the once over he gave the clackers in the elevator on the way up. I swear he was about to purse his lips at them," Andy said chuckling.

"I'm sure his reaction was warranted," Miranda responded, smiling fully for the first time. "Some of the clothing choices around here have been horrendous of late. I really must do more to address that. I can't have my staff offending my son's sensibilities."

Andy laughed outright at that. "I can see that meeting now. Randy dictating fashion to the masses. You should know his pj's have X-Men on them. He's not quite the fashion connoisseur you seem to think."

Miranda pursed her lips. "Really, I should have expected no less. I can see that my influence is dearly needed."

"He's a little boy, Miranda. Little boys like super heroes. But yes, your influence is needed and wanted," Andy finished with a soft smile. "Within reason." She couldn't help adding with a smirk. "Da."

Miranda frowned. "I have been called many things, most of them unpleasant, but never Da."

"I'll talk to him about that again," Andy promised.

"I wish you luck, Andréa. I tried myself, twice. Our son is as stubborn as his mother." Miranda gave a long suffering sigh. "I can only imagine how difficult it will be to deal with both of you."

Andy grinned wickedly. "You ain't seen nothing yet, Babe. Wait until he unleashes that fabulous Priestly temper on you. He can freeze minions with the best of you." Andy blushed suddenly as she realized what she'd called Miranda.

"Darling, I believe time and distance have weakened your remembrances. No one can melt so-called minions as well as the original," Miranda assured her.

Andy's blush only deepened. The effect of Miranda's endearment was as potent as ever, but then everything about the woman was. She rose suddenly and started to take her leave when another thought occurred to her. "Don't try to take my son from me, Miranda."

"Andréa, I would never do such a thing," Miranda denied. "You know how hard I had to fight to keep my girls. I could never put you or our son through that. I simply want the opportunity to be a part of his life."

Andy nodded. She did believe Miranda. Her ex-husband's periodic efforts to take the girls had been a constant source of worry for Miranda. "You'll have it, Miranda. Just please don't hurt him. He's my world, and he's so little. He wants so badly to love you. Don't screw this up."

"I won't," Miranda vowed solemnly.

"Okay. I, uh, I approved the layout. "

"Thank you for that. I was concerned that with our history you wouldn't allow Runway to have it," Miranda confessed. "It's quite the coupe."

"I won't pretend the choice wasn't mine. I could never have done that to you, Miranda. In my opinion, Runway is the best. Our history doesn't change that. So, what do you think of the costuming?" Andy couldn't help asking.

"They were beautifully done, Andréa. I believe they will fit the atmosphere of your story perfectly, if your previous novels are anything to go by."

"You've read them," Andy gasped.

"Each one," Miranda acknowledged. "I admit to having received a copy prior to the release date. You haven't quite negated my influence in the publishing arena." Miranda smiled to indicate she was teasing.

"My publisher told me Runway was receiving a copy, but I thought it was for the reviewer, not for you."

"It was. I wrote each and every review. I couldn't leave your work to be brutalized in some ridiculous wish to please me by panning it for no other reason than our past association. One former employee tried to do just that with the book you had published after leaving New York," Miranda waved away the idiocy he had attempted.

Andy noticed that Miranda referred to her leaving New York and not to leaving Miranda herself. She bit her lip to keep from smiling. Far too often she thought of it the same way herself. She also caught Miranda watching her mouth when she made that move. Maybe her ex was just as affected as she was by their meeting.

"I should get Randy and go. I need to let Angie know there'll be three more for dinner," Andy said. She was surprised when the light flickered out of Miranda's eyes. She couldn't help a grin as she realized what Miranda must be thinking. She decided not to enlighten Miranda right away-a little uncertainty would do her good, right? Andy strode to the door. She glanced back before opening it and smiled again. "I'll see you around seven, all right? Randy has an early bedtime tonight since he didn't sleep well last night. Too much excitement, I think. Though how I'm going to get him settled tonight with his new Da on the premises, I have no idea. See you tonight, Miranda." Andy opened the door and passed through it, looking for her son whom she found in Nigel's office going over layouts with him.

"Oh, no," Andy objected. "You lot aren't going to convert him to your fashion cult. He's far too young."

Nigel looked at her over his glasses. "I seem to recall we snared you quickly enough, and you were an adult, or what passed as one in those days."

"Ha, ha, very funny, Nige. I'll have him inoculated against the Runway virus if I have to," Andy joked.

Randy stared at her with round eyes. "I gots to have shots to see my Da?" he asked fearfully. Swallowing loudly, he looked at her solemnly. "I cans do it." He stuck out a skinny arm and squeezed his eyes shut.

Andy gave Nigel a warning look at the merry twinkle in his eyes before turning her attention to her son. "No, Baby, you don't have to get a shot to see your Da. I was just joking with Nigel." She bit her tongue to keep from laughing at his explosive sigh of relief.

"Clever boy," Nigel complimented. "I don't think I knew what inoculate meant at his age."

"Trust me, if it has anything to do with needles, he knows the words. Say good-bye to Nigel, Sweetie. We need to get home and let Angie know we're having even more company tonight."

"My Da?" Randy breathed hopefully.

"Yes," Andy laughed. "Your Da and her daughters."

"I gots sisters, too," Randy exclaimed beaming.

"I suppose you do," Andy admitted. "You know about them already. Caroline and Cassidy that mommy e-mails with. Those are Miranda's twins."

Randy's eyes got impossibly wider. "They're so pretty!"

"Ah, a lady's man in the making," Nigel teased affectionately.

"An eye for beauty that's for sure. I'm still trying to figure out how Miranda's genes got in the mix." She smiled fondly at her son who was arranging photos into a layout.

Nigel watched him work for a moment and then nodded when Randy sat back on his stool. "Now why didn't I think of that?" he commented, tapping a finger against his lips. "Why the red, my dear Randall?"

"It matches," Randy stated firmly. "The blue was icky."

Rubbing his forehead, Nigel chuckled. "I'll have to think of a better explanation to give Miranda than icky." He stopped for a moment and glanced at Randy. "Then again, perhaps not."

"Want to join us for dinner, Nigel?" Andy asked.

"And get the opportunity to see Miranda playing Daddy? Wouldn't miss it, Six," Nigel agreed. "All right, young man. Your mother is waiting, and I need to show your Da your layout. I can't wait to see her expression when I tell her the blue was icky." Nigel chuckled.

"Good luck with that," Andy laughed. "Come on, big guy. Lot's to do before dinnertime."

The dinner had gone remarkable well, though the beginning had been a bit chilly. Emily had been intimidated by Miranda's presence, and Miranda had glared frigid daggers at Angie until she'd found out her actual relationship to Andy. Randy had been over the moon with excitement and had promptly dragged Miranda and the twins off to his room to see all his toys. The twins had offered to play a video game with him, and nothing would do but that Miranda join in. At the end of the night, Andy was still chuckling over Emily's bug-eyed stare at Miranda's attempt to snowboard on the Wii fitness board. Andy's smile softened as she recalled Miranda kicking off her heels and pulling her pencil skirt above her knees to give it a shot while Randy patiently instructed her on how to control the on-screen snowboarder.

Groaning, Andy rolled over and buried her head under a pillow. She'd had a horrible time keeping her eyes off those stocking-encased, toned thighs. It was far too easy to remember what they had felt like wrapped around her. Andy had been forced to excuse herself to check on dinner before she had done something really stupid, like fall to her knees and press her lips to the back of those slender legs.

Randy had spent the entire evening referring to Miranda as Da. He'd resisted every effort to correct him until finally Nigel had wrapped an arm around his old friend, something only he could get away with, and smiling had told her, "Congratulations, Miranda. You're a father."

"Yes, and you're a mother," she shot back with an evil glare that left everyone with no doubt as to which part of the double entendre she truly meant. Slipping her hand into her bag which rested on the floor beside her, she withdrew a box full of blue bubble gum cigars. "As it seems Nigel is right, never let it be said that I don't embrace my roles to the fullest." She then proceeded to pass out the cellophane wrapped gum which proclaimed in bold letters, "It's a boy!" to the general laughter of all.

Flopping over on her back, Andy smiled up at the ceiling. Miranda had been a really good sport about everything. The only tense moment in the latter part of the evening had come when Andy's cell phone had chimed. Laughing at something Cassidy was saying, she hadn't checked the Caller ID before answering. The director of the film had been halfway through his spiel before she had realized who it was. After fruitlessly saying his name several times, Andy had pinched the bridge of her nose and continued to listen to the endless stream of words until he had ran out of breath. From the corner of her eye, she had seen Miranda lean toward Angie and knew she was inquiring about the caller in her own subtle way. The disapproving purse of Miranda's lips had told Andy her ex was doubting her commitment to keeping work at bay, and that had just irritated Andy all the more. So, when the man had paused for breath, Andy had let him have it with both barrels.

"Which part of my contract wasn't clear to you, Elliot? Because right now you're in violation of the agreement, which means I can have you replaced. Do. Not. Call. Me. After. Six. How much clearer can I be? …Yes, I know it says unless there's an emergency. Let me define emergency for you. The set is on fire, and I'm inside it at the time. Nothing else is urgent enough to interrupt my time with my son. That's all!" She had snapped the phone closed and tossed it on an end table. "Angie, call Willa tomorrow morning during our business hours. That man doesn't get to pull this junk."

"No problem," Angie had smiled wickedly. "I'd love to take a bit of air out of that stuffed shirt. I told him three hours ago that it could wait 'til morning."

"You're very serious about your time with Randall," Miranda had commented.

"Yes, I am," Andy nodded. "My parents always made time for me, and I think I turned out okay. I look at all these twenty-something's that are always in the press for one outrageous action or another, and I don't want that for my son. I mean, Tina is a goddess." She lifted her glass towards the pregnant woman reclining on a chaise. "But no nanny, no matter how good, is a real replacement for an absent parent. I'm not judging how others choose to raise their children; that's just my opinion."

Cassidy had nodded. "There was a time when certain of our friends were trying to get Caro and me to go along with some of those activities. Knowing Mom was there and cared about what happened to us made it a lot easier to say no. For me at least, I just couldn't disappoint her that way."

"Me either," Caroline had agreed. "Mom changed her whole life around after you left, just to be with us more. It wasn't right to pay her back by being total idiots."

Miranda had smiled lovingly at them before turning her gaze to Andy. She had mouthed a silent "Thank you" for the second time in their acquaintance. This one had been much more heartfelt than the other time. It seemed her leaving Miranda had proven to be better for all concerned than Andy had originally anticipated. It was just a pity that they'd had to lose each other for Miranda to realize she needed to make such changes. Still, the girls had benefited, and that was good enough for Andy, though it didn't stop her from wishing she had Miranda back. This Miranda anyway.

Andy forced herself to get out of bed. She had to deal with the irritating director who just couldn't seem to get the vision of what she'd written. He kept trying to make changes to heighten the gore and nudity factors. Only wielding her veto power had kept him in line so far. The producers had insisted on using him when her first choice hadn't been available. She half wondered if they'd arranged the shooting schedule to ensure that. Elliot worked much cheaper than Amanda. The powers that be had conveniently forgotten that the success of the films based on the first two novels was the reason Amanda could ask for and get her current fee, not to mention that the films were successful because of Amanda's creative vision and willingness to work with Andy to maintain the integrity of her story. Introducing Miranda into Randy's life was stressful enough. If Elliot pulled one more stunt, Andy was ready to send him packing, and as writer-producer on this movie she had the authority, something she blessed her agent for more with each passing day.

She walked back into her bedroom wrapped in a robe while toweling her hair dry. A whirlwind of dark hair and X-Men pajamas flew into her legs, surprising her into dropping the towel over his head. Randy grinned up at her from under his fluffy new veil.

"Do I gets to sees Da today?" he asked by way of greeting. "She has a big dawgs. I wants to sees it."

"Whoa there. Miranda has work today, and so do I. You're going to have to come with me to the set since Angie has a meeting and Tina is still not well enough to keep up with you," Andy told him while leaning over to return his hug.

"Yous hair is all wet, Mommy," he grumbled, pushing the long strands away from his face. "I don't like the set. Everyone's always yelling. Can't I go to Da's works instead?"

"Sweetie, Miranda is really busy," Andy tried to explain. She felt her determination crumble as his full lips formed a pout and he turned his best puppy dog eyes on her. Andy sighed. She could never resist that look, not from any of the Priestlys, even the one she'd birthed. "I'll tell you what. We'll call Miranda and ask her, but if she has meetings or a lot of work, you'll have to go with me and not pout, okay?"

"Yes, Mommy," Randy agreed with an angelic smile.

Andy sat on the edge of the bed and opened her cell phone. Having never taken Miranda's numbers out of it, she quickly connected by speed dial. The phone was answered after one ring.

"Yes, Andréa? Is Randall all right?"

Andy smiled at the concern she heard. "Yes, he's fine. He has a request. As you may have noticed, Tina, his nanny, is pregnant and on bed rest for the remainder of the week. Angie is covering a couple of meetings for me today, and I have to be on set to keep this director from destroying my work. As it stands, I'll have to take Randy with me for the day."

"A movie set is a terribly confusing place for a four-year-old. He's welcome to spend the day with me. I'm sure he'd much prefer doing Nigel's job than being amongst all that activity."

Andy laughed. "Nigel never did tell me what you thought of the icky blue comment."

"As I said, my son has an eye. He was completely right. The blue was icky." Miranda chuckled softly. "I took great pleasure in relaying the information to Jocelyn. I'm not sure she'll ever recover."

"If you're sure, I can drop him off on my way to the location shoot," Andy said, giggling.

"I had a breakfast meeting so I'm not far from you. I'll have Roy swing by, and I'll come up to get Randall. Would twenty minutes be sufficient time for him to be ready?"

"I just got out of the shower, but we'll make every effort. He may still be eating breakfast when you get here though," Andy explained.

"If you'll get him dressed and pack a bag of items to entertain himself, I'll see to his breakfast. That's what assistants are for."

"Your assistants, Miranda, not mine. Angie is busy being an associate producer right now. I'll tell Randy, and we'll see you shortly."

Miranda laughed at the loud squealing "I get to see Da!" that Andy was sure would shatter the speakers on both their phones.

"Hurry up, Ms. Popularity, before your son combusts from sheer joy," Andy said laughing. Ending the call, she turned to her son who was jumping up and down on the bed. "And you, Mr. Sachs, need to get dressed. Miranda will be here soon. And wear something nice!" She called after him as he raced from the room. "Good advice for me, too," Andy muttered as she headed back to the en suite to dry her hair.

Chapter 3

Exactly twenty minutes later, Miranda nodded to the doorman and gave her name to the security guard at the desk in the lobby. She was surprised to learn that Andréa had already had her name added to the list of approved guests for the penthouse and even had arranged for her to receive a resident's card key that would allow her immediate access to the express elevator for the penthouse. Without allowing her amazement to show, Miranda strode to the elevator and swiped the card. On the ride up she pondered the meaning of Andréa's actions.

When the doors slid back she found herself facing Andréa's living room. Having come up via the main elevators the previous night, Miranda's eyebrows lifted. Andréa had effectively given her the key to her apartment. She was stepping out of the elevator as Andréa started down the staircase of the two-story penthouse.

Andréa looked up and started. "Oh, wow, Miranda. You scared me," she said pressing a hand to her chest. "I didn't realize you were already here."

"I just arrived. Perhaps you'd like to explain the meaning of this?" She waved the keycard at Andréa.

"I'd think that was obvious," Andréa said smiling. "We share a son. This is his home. You need to be able to get in. Pretty simple really."

"Thank you for trusting me with both the key and Randall," Miranda responded in her soft voice.

"If things had been different, you'd have been his parent from birth, Miranda. Of course, I trust you with him. He's your son, too." Andréa ran her fingers through the hair above her ear. "I know what I said when I left, but in my heart, he was always yours. At the time, I couldn't give him you, but I could give him your name, or a reasonable facsimile. Now he has you, and he's thrilled. There's so much you can teach him. He already adores Caroline and Cassidy. You're the only family he has outside of the one I made for him."

"Surely, your parents," Miranda began only to stop when Andréa shook her head.

"You know they stopped talking to me when I started seeing you. I never told them about Randy, though I imagine they know. With all the publicity over the books, it would be hard not to. They've made no effort to contact me, though they have my cell number, and I've never changed it. The way I see it, if my wife wasn't good enough for them, my son isn't either." Andréa shrugged to show how little it meant to her.

Miranda knew differently however. She'd held her wife as she'd cried on several occasions over her parents' desertion. The most notable being the day they'd found out Andréa was pregnant. "They are fools, Andréa. I am even more convinced of it."

"And you're sweet," Andréa responded, smiling softly. She stepped closer when she heard the sound of running feet coming closer to the top of the stairs. Dropping her voice, she confided, "He insisted on picking out his clothes himself. I have no idea what he considers suitable Runway attire, though he has a lot of nice clothing. Be nice, please."

"He's my son, Andréa. I have no doubt he will choose appropriately," Miranda assured her confidently.

They both looked toward the top of the stairs, and Miranda couldn't suppress a tiny smile as her son appeared above them. He was resplendent in a tailored dark blue Armani suit with a light blue silk shirt and dark blue tie. Miranda nodded and smiled at him. Randall's smile lit the room at her approval.

"I'm telling you, those genes of yours," Andréa muttered, shaking her head.

"He dresses as befits the prince of fashion, Andréa," Miranda said smirking.

Andréa dropped her face into her hands. "Damn, my son, a fashionista. No one would believe it."

Miranda laughed heartily. "Like father, like son," she quipped.

"Let's see you laugh when Page Six announces you've fathered a son," Andréa shot back.

"They always did say I had balls, big brass ones," Miranda responded.

"I can't win with you, Miranda," Andréa said shaking her head and chuckling.

"Darling, you always won with me. I was simply remiss in letting you know."

Andréa cleared her throat. "Well, you two better get going. Can't have fashion royalty being late to work on the prince's first day."

Miranda smiled and let the moment pass. "Come along, My Prince," she called to Randall who was sedately moving down the staircase. She could tell he wanted to race down, but was trying to make her proud with his entrance. "I have several layouts I wish your opinion on, and then I shall teach you how to terrorize an entire photo shoot."

"Miranda!" Andréa exclaimed.

"I jest, Andréa. Where is your sense of humor this morning?" Miranda smirked, pleased with herself at getting a rise out of Andréa.

"I know you, Miranda," Andréa snorted. "You may not actively teach him, but you'll be terrorizing that shoot, and he'll learn by example."

"Then it's good he has you to temper the lessons, is it not? Now, we really must go, or we'll be late."

Randall had joined them by then and stood grinning up at Miranda. "Good morning, Da," he said politely.

"Good morning, my Darling. We're going to the office for a while. Your breakfast will be there waiting for you. We'll be lunching with Donatella Versace today, and then going to the photo shoot in the afternoon," Miranda explained to him before turning her attention to his mother. "You may reach us by phone at any time, Andréa. We'll leave work by five and be at the townhouse. Randall expressed a desire to meet Patricia. We may take her for a walk before dinner, so do call when you're ready. The girls will be home for dinner this evening if you'd like to join us."

"Okay, okay," she laughed. "I should be off at six, but if I see a chance to unload Elliot, I may break my own rule just to do so. I would definitely deem that an emergency. Amanda's current project will wrap at the end of the week, and she swears she can juggle post production on that with the rest of filming on this one."

"Do you trust her to be able to do so?" Miranda asked.

"Implicitly," Andréa stated emphatically. "Plus she honors my family hours. That means the world to me. Elliot isn't going to be happy until he has me working eighteen hours a day. Every little thing is a major source of drama with him."

"Then by all means, take as much time as you need. Randall and I are quite capable of entertaining each other. We still must select his room at my town house and see to having it decorated appropriately."

"Miranda, he has a room, right here," Andréa pointed out.

"I am aware. But surely you will allow him to sleep over occasionally. He will be much more comfortable in his own room when doing so," Miranda explained. Then she realized what might be concerning Andy. "I know his home is with you, but I would like Randall to feel he has a home with me as well. Having his own space with some of his personal belongings would help to ensure that."

"Please, Mommy. I'd like to haves my own room at Da's," Randall chimed in.

"You don't play fair, Miranda," Andréa chided.

"I'm not playing at all, Andréa. The girls have their own rooms at their fathers. Surely, it isn't unreasonable to want the same for our son." Miranda waited, not wanting to push further. Andréa was trusting her with the most precious person in her life. Miranda, in turn, needed to trust Andréa to make the right choices for them all.

"All right. We'll be in New York for a year. It's not unreasonable to think Randy will be sleeping over from time to time," Andréa agreed.

"A year, you say," Miranda commented smiling. Perfect. That's more than enough time. "Will you then be returning to Los Angeles?"

"We'll probably end up splitting time between coasts until Randy starts school, but that's still two years away. Tina has been seeing to his education for now. There's a bag next to the elevator with his things. He packed several books. I think he wants to show you his reading skills," Andréa confided, grinning down at her son.

"Then he shall certainly do so. Now we really must go." Miranda escorted Randall to the elevator and waited while he picked up his backpack. She assisted him in slipping his arms through the straps. Hand in hand they stepped into the elevator and turned to face outward. Just before the doors closed, he shot through the small opening, breaking the beam and causing the doors to open fully. Miranda smiled as he threw his small body into the arms of his mother, who knelt to receive his hug. Kissing her loudly on the cheek, he hurried back to slip his hand trustingly into Miranda's.

"Bye, Mommy," he called, waving cheerfully as the doors slid closed.

They existed the building and walked to where Roy stood holding the door at the curb.

"Roy, this is my son, Randall," Miranda explained as she assisted him in the car. "We will be going to the office now. Randall is starting his first day at Runway."

"Taking over for Mr. Ravitz, I hope," Roy said smiling.

"Give him time, Roy. Give him time." Miranda slid onto the seat next to her son and was pleased to see that he was securely buckled into the booster seat she'd requested Roy pick up when he drove her and the girls home the previous night. If only everyone who worked for her were as efficient as Roy, her life would go much smoother. She checked the restraints on the booster to be sure they were secure and then fastened her own seatbelt at a pointed look from Randall. A few wrinkles would simply have to be overlooked if she were to set a good example for her son.

They chatted amiably on the way to the office. Randall proved to be fascinated with Roy when he learned the man had been driving his Da since she became editor of Runway. He seemed to have an endless store of questions about Miranda and the twins. Miranda was content to let him chat with Roy, knowing from experience she could trust her driver with the same certainty that Andréa had shown for her favorite director.

She mentally prepared a list to give Emily when she arrived while scanning through her e-mail. She made note of a charity event coming up that was being held at an earlier hour than most. She wondered if Andréa would allow her to take Randall as her escort. The event was to raise money for the city zoo, and there were often a variety of small harmless animals presented to tug at the heartstrings of the patrons. She had become involved with their fundraising efforts many years before at the twins' insistence. Since they could not return the animals to the wild as they truly wished, natural habitats were the next best thing for them. She would mention it to Andréa this evening. Perhaps she would even like to attend with them. If the girls would agree to accompany them as well, it could be a family outing.

Miranda closed her eyes and imagined her family all together, dressed in haute couture with Randall in a perfectly tailored Armani tuxedo. Now that would be something she'd pay to see on Page Six. She might even purchase copies of the photos for herself. She opened her eyes and looked at her charmingly dressed son. Patrick was handling the shoot today. Surely he would have a moment to take one or two pictures of them together. To finally have a picture of her son on her desk seemed the epitome of all Miranda could ask for. Not that she would remove the current picture of him that resided there. No, she would get a dual frame to house them both.

The car stopped in front of her building, and Miranda waited for Roy to open the door. She took the time to release both of their restraints and assist Randall with his backpack. Gathering her bag and the Book, she slipped on her sunglasses and stepped from the car. She noticed Randall looking at her curiously as they crossed the sidewalk and entered the building. Making their way to the elevator, he continued to cast glances up at her. It wasn't until they were in the elevator that he let her know what was on his mind.

"Da, do you always wears dark glasses?"

"Yes, Darling, I wear them quite frequently."

He nodded and fell silent for a moment as the elevator rose to the proper floor. Just before the door opened, he looked up. "Can I has some, too?"

Miranda crooked a smile as she wondered what Andréa would make of her son sporting Miranda's trademark shades. "Of course, Darling. We'll send Emily to retrieve you several pairs as soon as we enter the office."

"Auntie Em'ly?" he questioned.

"No, Dear, the other Emily," Miranda explained. "You mustn't bother your Aunt Emily today. She has a great deal of work to do, most of which I will give her when we arrive."

"'Kay," he said.

With her hand on a small shoulder, Miranda steered him down the hallway to her office. She was aware that Serena had brought Andréa in by the back way yesterday, so he might not know the shortest way to her office. Emily met them before they were halfway there, pad and pen at the ready. Miranda began to dictate the list of duties she'd compiled in the elevator, save for her inquiries about the zoo fundraiser. It wouldn't do to raise Randall's hopes only to have them dashed if his mother wasn't ready to allow such a grand statement, though that wasn't Miranda's motivation in inviting him. It would, however, be an unfortunate by-product.

She tossed her bag on the second Emily's desk and just managed to stop Randall from adding his. "No, Darling. Take your bag into my office. You can use the couch and coffee table until your desk arrives."

"I haves a desk?" He asked beaming.

"Have a desk, my Love, not haves," Miranda corrected gently. "You will have one as soon as your Aunt Emily locates it and has it moved to my office." She gave Emily a significant look over his head.

"Right away, Miranda," Emily assured her.

"Oh, and Emily I will be sending you a text of a confidential nature," Miranda informed her with a glance toward Randall.

"Oh! Of course, Miranda. I'll take care of it as soon as I receive it."

"Thank you, Emily. Oh, and send that one," Miranda gestured vaguely towards the second assistant, "to fetch Randall's breakfast." She looked down at her son who stood beside her. "What would you like, Darling?"

"White eggs ommylets withs cheese, please," he answered promptly and then grinned at his rhyme.

Miranda's lips curled in the hint of a smile, and she gently tucked his bangs into place before turning her attention back to Emily. "The desk first, Emily," she said and then turned, escorting Randall into her office with a hand on his shoulder. "Set your things up over there, Love." Miranda took her accustomed place behind her desk and reached for her coffee. Not quite as hot as I like, but I'll sacrifice for now, at least until that girl returns with his food. She sipped her coffee and tried not to grimace as she looked over the day's schedule to be sure nothing had been added that she wasn't aware of. It didn't happen often, but now and then Irv liked to flex his CEO muscles just to prove something to himself. The silence in the room was not uncommon, unless one took into account that a four-year-old boy was in residence. Miranda glanced over at Randall to find he had removed his jacket and was sitting quietly, staring at her intently. "What's on your mind, Darling?"

"You saids thanks you to Auntie Em'ly," he commented. "Mommy saids you don't says thanks yous."

Turning to face him, Miranda placed her coffee on her desk and held out her arms to him. "Come here, Randall. There's something I should explain to you."

Randall hurried over and allowed himself to be lifted on her lap. Perched on Miranda's knees, he looked up at her. "Was mommy wrongs?" he asked.

"No, my Love. I'm sad to say that your mommy was right. I wasn't a very nice person then. I didn't believe that I was required to thank a person for doing their job, nor do I think so now. However, after your mother left me, I did a lot of thinking. People like your Aunt Emily not only do their jobs, but they also do other things for me. I suppose you could call them favors. We should always thank people who do us favors, such as Emily finding you a desk this morning," Miranda explained.

Randall frowned in concentration and then asked, "So Mommy lefts because yous not saids thanks yous?"

Miranda smiled sadly. "In part, yes. But mostly she left me because I didn't treat her as if she were important to me. I forgot birthdays, anniversaries and other occasions when I should have been there. Your Mommy was right to leave me, Randall. It was my fault that she did."

"Yous forgots Mommy's birthsday?" Randy stared at her with rounded eyes.

Miranda realized she actually didn't know his birthday. She knew approximately when he should have been born, but she'd never tried to find out the exact date. Doing so would have made the loss too real to be borne. She would have to find out from Emily immediately. No, no, she would ask Andréa. It was truly the only honest way to go about finding out. "I will never forget your birthday, My Prince," she promised and knew it to be true. She had never forgotten her girls' birthday, only that of her spouses. Randall responded with a smile that brightened the room and was so like Andréa's that Miranda's heart ached. Though Andréa did smile at her, it was no longer that glowing megawatt smile that spoke of pure, enduring love and adoration. No, Andréa smiled at her as a friend now, and though she should be thankful to receive even that, Miranda couldn't help missing the other.

"I's glad you says thanks you to Auntie Em'ly," Randall stated emphatically. "I loves her."

"And your Aunt Emily loves you too, Lad." Emily's voice drifted from the doorway where she stood with a tray containing a plate of eggs and a glass of milk. Behind her was a beefy security guard toting a small table and Nigel pushing an armless task chair with several folders lying on the seat. "Where would you like the desk placed?"

Miranda looked at Randall and raised an eyebrow.

"Can I haves it next to yours?" he asked shyly.

"Place it next to mine, please," Miranda instructed. "Randall will have his breakfast there."

Once Randall was settled in and munching on his eggs, Miranda glanced at Nigel. "I assume you want something since you didn't depart with the rest of the moving crew?"

He smiled wryly at her. "I have the layouts for the Balenciaga shoot as well as the photo samples for the jewelry spread. I'm afraid the jewelry designer wasn't terribly inspired."

They both pretended not to notice as Randall sat up straight and paused in his chewing at the word "layout." Accepting the files, Miranda kept her attention on Nigel, though her eyes were twinkling. "Is everything ready for this afternoon's shoot?"

"Yes, we were able to get all the models you wanted, and Patrick called this morning to confirm," Nigel informed her.

"Would you contact Patrick for me? I'd like him to do a few extra shots today. I'd like several pictures of Randall and myself for the office and for home. Whatever background Patrick deems to be acceptable will do," Miranda instructed.

"Of course," Nigel said with a nod. "Would you like me to have a suitable outfit sent over for Randy?"

"If you believe you can improve on the Armani suit he selected to wear today, then by all means send one over," Miranda said with a smirk.

Nigel stepped to the side and looked Randall over carefully. "I should have realized your son would know exactly what to wear," he said with a chuckle.

"Hmm, yes, Andréa continually laments the fact that my genes seem to have made an appearance," Miranda confided with a small grin. "Perhaps it was all the nights I shared my day with him while she slept." Miranda gazed at her son, who had gone back to eating, lovingly.

"Not improbable," Nigel agreed. "Well, if there's nothing else, I need to go strike terror into the Art Department. Perhaps I'll tell them you plan to make impromptu visits throughout the day. That ought to get their little hearts racing." With a laugh and a wave, he was gone.

"Is the Arts 'partments scared of yous, Da?" Randall asked, seriously.

"Everyone here is afraid of me, Randall, with the possible exceptions of Nigel, Emily, and Serena. They know me much too well to be truly intimidated by me now. I blame your mother for that," Miranda told him and then winked to show she was teasing.

"Why Mommy?" he asked.

"They were her closest friends while we were married and before. They were convinced she'd tamed the dragon, and in many ways they were right."

Randall frowned in confusion. "What dragons?"

"One of the many things people call me is the Dragon Lady, Randall. They say that I'm frightfully mean and can breathe fire." Miranda reached out and tickled his sides lightly, smiling at his giggles. "Yes, and I eat little boys for dinner with ketchup and Béarnaise sauce."

"Would I taste good with bear maze sauces?" he asked grinning.

"You would taste divine all by yourself," Miranda told him, chuckling. "Now, this dragon has a good deal of work to do before lunch. Bring your things over, and we'll get busy."

"Can I helps with the layouts?" he asked hopefully.

Miranda thought for a moment and then hit upon an idea. "Emily," she called in her soft tones.

The second assistant came to the doorway. "Yes, Miranda?"

"Make a copy of these," Miranda said holding out the file of layouts. Once the girl had gone, Miranda turned to the photos and began to study them, tsking over the poor state of the designs. Randall had pulled out paper and markers. Glancing at the photos she held, he began to draw the designs with his own improvements. For his age the drawings were quite good, and Miranda snuck peeks at them from time to time. She would have to speak to Andréa about art lessons for their son. Natural talent should be nourished wherever it was found.

When the new Emily returned with the copies, Miranda passed them to Randall with instructions to make the corrections he thought needed making while she did the same to the originals. They compared results when each finished, working together companionably for almost an hour when a loud voice drew their attention to the outer office.

"I don't give a damn what she's doing. I want to see Miranda right now."

Miranda sighed and removed her glasses, placing them gently on the desktop. "Randall, please take your things and go sit on the couch. The man who is about to come in here is not very nice, and I'm afraid I shall have to be not so nice back to him. Please don't be frightened. I love you very much and would never treat you or anyone else I loved this way. Sometimes in business you have to stand up for yourself, even if it's not how you'd prefer to act. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Da," Randall said, nodding rapidly. "Yous gonna breathe fire and be all dragonsy."

Miranda bit her lip to suppress a laugh. "Exactly. Now hurry to the couch and be very quiet. I do not want him saying anything that would hurt your feelings."

Randall grabbed his papers and box of markers. Moving quickly over to the couch, he went back to his work.

Miranda sighed and steeled herself for the confrontation to come. Why Stephen thought he could get anything out of her at this point, she didn't know, but he was determined to keep trying. She remained seated when he stomped into the room.

"I want to talk to you, Miranda," he snarled.

Lovely. It's not even lunchtime,and he's already had a few drinks. "We have nothing to say to each other, Stephen. The divorce has been final for years."

"Yeah, and I got screwed on that deal. I want what should have been mine, and I'll take you to court if I have to," he threatened belligerently.

"You are welcome to do so," Miranda said with a gracious nod. "I doubt you will find an attorney to take the case, though. Even if you should, the judge will throw it out at the first hearing. Perhaps that's what it will take for you to drop this foolishness."

He crossed to her desk in a few long strides and rested his fists on the surface, towering over her. "You owe me."

Miranda stood and moved to the window to put distance between her and his whiskey breath. "I owe you nothing. You willingly signed the pre-nup. You had as much to protect as I did. It is not my fault you made bad investments. I heard about the beating you took when the market dropped, but you will not be making up the loss out of my pockets. You should leave before security removes you."

Stephen was around the desk and had grabbed her by the arm before Miranda could react. She could see Emily on the phone over his shoulder and Miranda prayed it was to security. "Let go of me, Stephen. An assault charge will not help your case in the slightest."

"You gets your hands offs my DA!" Randy roared.

They both whipped their heads to focus on the source of the interruption. Randall stood with his fists clenched at his sides and his small chest heaving with anger. His icy blue gaze was Miranda personified. She nearly smiled at the similarity.

"I always knew you were screwed up, Miranda, but now you've got that kid thinking you're his father!" Stephen barked a mean laugh. "Drag out your checkbook and maybe I won't take it out on the deluded little snot." He shoved Miranda toward her desk.

Randall was across the room as fast as his little legs would move, fist drawn back. His momentum added power as his arm swung forward and his clenched hand made contact with the only part of Stephen that was on his level. Miranda bit her lip to keep from laughing as Stephen hunched over, both hands grabbing his crotch as he retched from the pain.

"That nots how you treats girls!" Randall snapped, adding a sharp kick to Stephen's ankle to enhance his point. "Never touches my Da agains!"

Miranda managed to maintain a cool façade as two security guards rushed into the room. "Mr. Tomlinson needs to leave now," she snapped. She turned to her son as Stephen was dragged from the room. Miranda opened her mouth only to close it again. She had no idea what to say.

"Good on you, Randy, my Lad," Emily said from the doorway. "You're a right bold one when needs be. Your mum will be proud."

Randall looked down at his feet and dragged the toe of one shoe back and forth on the carpet. "Is you mads at me, Da? Mommy says I nots should hits people," he admitted, then looked up at her defiantly. "But hes was hurtings you."

Miranda dropped to her knees and pulled him into her arms. "No, I'm not mad at you," she said into the dark hair so like her Andréa's. "Mommy is right. Hitting is not the way to solve your problems, but sometimes a man has to defend those he loves. I think Andréa will understand this one time."

Randall threw his arms around her neck and hung on tight. "I loves you, Da."

"And I love you, my Son."

The rest of their day went much smoother. Donatella was enthralled when Miranda showed up at lunch with Randall who sported a pair of Versace shades just his size. He, in turn, displayed a charm that Miranda knew had come from his mother. He was all smiles as he held her chair. They studied the menu together, and instead of the hamburger she expected, he ordered a chicken and pasta dish for himself, which he requested to be half-sized, as well as giving the waiter Miranda's and Donatella's choices. He frowned for a moment when he was told they did not serve milk and settled on water instead.

"Miranda, Darling, your Randall is such a gentleman. Where have you been hiding him?" Donatella gushed.

"He's been living in Los Angeles with his mother," Miranda informed her.

"Do I know her?" asked Donatella, the gleam of curiosity in her eyes.

"Yes, actually, you do. It's Andréa."

Donatella looked at Randall critically for a moment, sizing him up. Her eyes widened as she seemed to make the connection. "He's your son!" she exclaimed.

"Yes, Ma'ams," Randall put in.

"And so polite!" Donatella added smiling. "But I thought…" Donatella stopped, for once seeming to remember the concept of discretion. "Well, it's wonderful that the two of you finally met. I'm so happy for you, Miranda."

"Thank you," Miranda said with a small smile. Though normally reticent to share her personal life even with her friends, she felt Donatella deserved something for her effort. "It was only yesterday morning that he appeared in my office. I was quite surprised to see him there. I knew Andréa had come to look at the layouts for the costuming of her current film, but I had no idea she'd brought Randall along."

"Oh, Darling, you must be ecstatic," Donatella commented.

"Da, why does Ms. Versazy calls you dahlings?" Randall asked in a hoarse whisper.

Donatella laughed softly as Miranda smiled at her son. "We have been friends for a number of years, and she always refers to her friends that way," Miranda explained.

"'Kay," Randall said nodding. Then he looked at her with a frown. "You gots a dahling of your owns?" he wanted to know.

"I have you and Caroline and Cassidy. The three of you are my darlings."

He remained silent for a moment before replying, "You shoulds have a real dahling to loves you. I gonna finds you ones. Mys sisters wills helps me."

Miranda knew she was blushing, but she was helpless to stop it.

"What a wonderful idea, Randall," Donatella exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "You must tell me if I can help. Emily can reach me at any time."

"Thanks yous," Randall replied politely.

Miranda didn't know if she should be enchanted that her son had her well-being at heart or irritated that her old friend was joining in the conspiracy. Deciding to be non-committal on the subject, she sighed with relief when the waiter arrived with their meals. The rest of the time passed pleasantly as Miranda and Donatella caught up when she was not flirting shamelessly, though mildly, with Randall who flirted right back. Miranda was left with the distinct impression as she watched Randall wrap both Donatella, two women at the next table and their female server around his little finger that she was going to have to keep an eye on her son as he matured.

The photo shoot that afternoon only confirmed her opinion. Even Nigel was looking at Randall and shaking his head every few minutes. The models were crowded around him three-deep as they oohed, ahhed and admired the impeccably dressed four-year-old.

"I think it's the curl," Nigel commented at one point as he and Miranda watched Randall charm the women while they waited for the next set-up.

"Curl?" asked Miranda, not sure what he meant.

"Yes, his bangs fall over one eye just as yours do. Gives him a rakish air. He's quite the charmer. Andy's beauty and liveliness, your wit and style. It's quite a potent combination. Give him a dozen years or so and you'll need bodyguards to keep the girls at bay," Nigel told her with a twinkle in his eye.

"The thought had occurred to me," Miranda replied sourly.

"Never fear," Nigel said patting her arm affectionately. "He's his mother's son. He'll set his heart on one girl and never see the others smiling his way."

"Unless that girl hasn't the sense to see what a treasure she has," Miranda came back with a trace of bitterness in her tone. "I never want to see his heart broken the way I—" She couldn't finish the thought.

"Hearts heal, Miranda," Nigel advised. "Sometimes by the very one who injured them. There's always hope."

"Perhaps, but the one who struck the blow should more likely just be glad for any crumbs that are tossed her way." Miranda sighed. "Too much risk of losing what little she's gained by trying for more."

Nigel gave her hand a squeeze and moved forward to liberate Randall from his fangirls, or maybe it was the other way around.

Chapter 4

"He did what?" Andréa exclaimed, staring at her son.

"Andréa," Miranda began.

"No! No, Miranda. There's no excuse," Andréa stated firmly. Turning to Randall, she looked down at him while propping her hands on her hips. "Randall Priestly Sachs, what have I said about hitting people?"

"You says that's no ways to solves p'oblems," Randall said, staring down at his feet before looking up at her. "But, Mommy, he was gonna hurt Da!"

"Miranda is an adult, and she can take care of herself," Andréa insisted. "I do not want you hitting anyone for any reason. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Ma'ams," he muttered, hunching his shoulders.

"All right, you can go play with the girls now. We'll talk about your punishment later."

Heaving an enormous sigh that raised and lowered his shoulders dramatically, Randall dragged his feet as he exited the room.

"Andréa, don't you think you were unnecessarily harsh on him? He was only trying to protect me," Miranda objected.

"And who was protecting him, Miranda? He's a little boy. He has no business taking on a grown man. What if he hadn't cracked Stephen's nuts? Randy could have been seriously hurt!" Andréa snapped. She rubbed both hands over her face vigorously and then sighed. "Look, I know you couldn't have physically stopped Stephen from coming into the office, and you did the right thing by telling Randy to stay out of the way and to let you handle it. You had no control over how long it took for security to get up there. I'm not blaming you. I know you would have stopped Randy, if you could. Believe me, I know how fast he can move when he's upset. "

Miranda slowly relaxed. She had been sure Andréa was going to forbid her from seeing their son again. For that reason, she had almost not told Andréa what happened, but it was a given that Emily would relate the story eventually. Even if that weren't a possibility, she would be furious if Andréa kept something like that from her concerning one of the twins. Deciding it would be strategic to change the subject, Miranda walked over to her desk and picked up an envelope.

"I had these done at the afternoon shoot. I'm hoping you won't mind that I did so," Miranda said offering the envelope to Andréa.

Glancing in the envelope, Andréa grinned. "I wondered how long it would take you," she teased. Slipping the pictures out of the envelope, Andréa looked through them slowly. When she reached the last one, she burst out laughing. She turned the image of Randall sitting in a tall director's chair surrounded by models, including several of the reigning supermodels, to where Miranda could see it. "I have got to have one, no, two of these. One for my office and one for Randy's bedroom. That is so Randy. He was my escort to one of the awards shows last year. Between that and the films, he's got a wall full of pictures of him and beautiful stars." She shook her head chuckling. "The boy has an eye for beauty. He's definitely your son, Miranda."

"I would argue, except for the fact that I fell in love with you, Andréa. You're an extraordinarily beautiful woman."

Andréa blushed furiously. "Looks like I won't be arguing either."

The ringing of the doorbell kept either of them from commenting further.

"Now who could that be?" Miranda wondered aloud.

"I take it you're not expecting anyone?"

"No, no one. Unless the current weak excuse for an assistant forgot the key again. I'll be right back," Miranda said. She marched down the stairs, intent on firing someone before she climbed them again. The doorbell rang again. Her irritation mounted as it sounded yet again while she crossed the entryway. The fourth tone sounded as Miranda reached the door, and her temper flared. The day had been much too stressful, and she was prepared to take it out on whoever was on the other side of the door.

"Miranda, no!" Andréa called out as she raced down the stairs.

It was too late. Miranda flung the door open and barely had time to register a very drunk Stephen standing there before she found herself flung against the wall with large hands squeezing her throat.

"This isn't over, you bitch!" he snarled.

"Oh, the fuck no!" Andréa shouted as she ran toward them. "Get your damned hands off her!"

Darkness was eating away at the edges of Miranda's vision as she clawed at the hands stealing the life from her body.

"I want my fucking money!" Stephen roared.

Andréa swung at him, her fist connecting with the side of his nose and shifting it sharply in the opposite direct. "Fuck! That hurt," Andréa swore, shaking her hand frantically.

Screaming in pain, Stephen grabbed at his face as blood gushed down his chin. He shook his head and turned towards Andréa, but she met him with a sharp punter's kick. He dropped to his knees and fell to the side, one hand over his nose and the other clutching between his legs. He lay there moaning. Andréa hurried to where Miranda stood with one hand on the wall to support herself. The other hand held her throat as she bent from the waist struggling to draw in sufficient air to stay conscious.

"P-police," she managed to gasp. "C-call."

"They're on the way, Mom," Cassidy responded as she raced down the stairs followed by Caroline and Randall.

Randall marched up to his mother and stared up at her with his hands on hips. "You hits," he pointed out. "Kicks too." He looked at his mother accusingly. "And says bads words."

Miranda coughed violently as a laugh caught in her throat. She smiled, and Andréa rubbed her back. "It seems," Miranda swallowed against an urge to cough, "your son has a point."

With her arm around Miranda's shoulders, Andréa shook her head. "Okay, you win," she conceded. "But I still do not want you swinging on people, Man Child. You're more likely to get hurt than to win."

"So, no punishmen's?" Randall asked hopefully.

"No punishment," Andréa agreed. "It seems protecting your Da is genetic for you and me, Buddy. "

The whine of sirens close by drew their attention. They could see flashing lights through the still open door. Andréa led Miranda over to a chair and knelt to examine her throat. Soft fingers touched her irritated flesh causing a thrill to race down Miranda's spine. She had always reacted thus to Andréa's touch, and she doubted it would ever change.

It was over an hour later when Andréa shut the door on the last person. Stephen had been transported to the hospital under guard, their statements had been taken, and Miranda's doctor had checked her out proclaiming her bruised but whole as were Andréa's knuckles. Randall was cuddled in Cassidy's lap in a large chair while Caroline sat close to her mother on the couch. Andréa dropped into the other chair and sighed.

"Dinner's at my house next time. It's much too traumatic when we eat over here," she said leaning her head against the back of the couch and closing her eyes while randomly flexing her sore hand.

Miranda draped her arm around Caroline and gazed levelly at Andréa. "What are my assurances that you will not resort to fisticuffs in your own home? You seem quite well-practiced in the technique."

Andréa laughed. "Who do you think taught Randy all he knows?" she teased, glancing at her son who had drifted off to sleep.

"I do thank you, Andréa. I don't think I could have fended him off alone," Miranda admitted.

Andréa's hands clenched against the arms of her chair. "Stephen's lucky all he ended up with was a broken nose and bruised—," she stopped and glanced at the girls, "well, bruises."

"He should know well enough that Priestlys protects those they love. Randall made that point clear enough this morning, as did you tonight. He should have a significant amount of time to consider it while he's incarcerated," Miranda stated.

"I'm surprised you pressed charges. It'll be all over the papers tomorrow. You'll have no hope of avoiding it with a court date looming," Andréa said around a yawn.

"Girls, you should begin preparing for bed. Give Randall to me," Miranda told them with a significant glance, holding out her arms for her son. They shared a communicative glance and then complied without argument saying a quiet "Good night" to Andréa. With Randall safe in her embrace, she called softly after the twins. "I'll be up soon." She looked down at Randall sleeping in her arms, though she spoke to Andréa. "Stephen has evidently lost both his impulse control and his sobriety. If I were not to press charges, who's to say that Stephen wouldn't come after Randall next, or even you. They will at least hold him until he's sober. I will call to arrange security for us all."

"It's done already," Andréa said, raising her arms above her head and stretching.

Miranda momentarily forgot what they were talking about as her eyes feasted on that long body arching lithely. She cleared her throat and looked away. The more time she spent with Andréa, the more she wanted her. There was too much at stake to ever risk acting on her desires, however. She looked down at her son resting peacefully in her arms. Far too much to risk.

"You tried to stop me from opening the door," Miranda commented.

"I could see him through the glass above the door from upstairs," Andréa explained. "Well, I could see silver hair, so I knew it wasn't the new Emily. I guessed at it being Stephen. I called the head of security for the film while you were giving your statement. She's arranging bodyguards for all of us, though I can promise you'll never see them or even know they're there."

"Andréa, your film budget will not cover a bodyguard for me and the girls. I have a service that I use," Miranda objected.

"For starters the production company isn't paying, I am, and trust me, Miranda, your service doesn't come close to my guys," Andréa assured her.

"The firm I use is reputable, Andréa. They handle celebrities regularly."

"I'm sure they do, Miranda, and that would be fine if it was the paparazzi we were talking about, but we're not. Stephen has lost it, and he's a drunk. That makes him an unknown quantity, and my guys specialize in that," Andréa said seriously.

"And what makes them so much better?" Miranda asked curiously.

"They don't exist, Miranda. They're all ex-black ops. They don't answer to anyone to speak of, except their handler. If Stephen thinks he got bruised tonight, it's nothing compared to what those guys can do to him. I'd feel much better with them watching over you. So, no more arguments, okay?" Andréa asked, watching her intently.

"Very well," Miranda agreed. It warmed her to think that Andréa was concerned for her well-being. The tiniest spark of hope flared in her heart, and this time Miranda didn't quash it immediately. She was a bit concerned about where and how Andréa might have met such disreputable individuals, but the film industry attracted many types of people. Miranda could see where such knowledge might be useful to Andréa in both her books and her life. She felt it was more appropriate not to ask since Andréa had not volunteered any information beyond the existence of these people. She smiled back down at her son again. "He's had an eventful day. You've done a remarkable job with him, Andréa. Donatella could not stop singing his praises at lunch."

Andréa grinned. "How is Donatella? I don't get to see her nearly enough."

Miranda looked at her in surprise. "I wasn't aware you still saw her at all."

"I see Donatella at various functions, and we try to have lunch when she's in town, which isn't often. And just so you know, Serena and Emily have spent part of their vacations with me since Randy was born. I just want us to be clear on that."

"I had assumed as much since Randall was quite familiar with them both. You are entitled to your friends, Andréa. That they also work for me should make no difference. I'm glad they have stayed loyal to you," Miranda told her.

"So am I. I don't have the best track record for keeping friends," Andréa said with a sigh.

"Those that didn't stay with you are not worthy of your consideration. It was their failure, not your own." Miranda looked at Andréa, her cool eyes softening. "You tried, Darling. Even after we were together, you tried to mend things with Lillian and Douglas. She refused, and he would not go against her. You tried again after you became pregnant with the same result. The fry cook does not even bear mentioning. Serena and Emily would not do such a thing to you. Say what you will about the Clackers, but when you become one of them, they can be counted on, and you are one of us, your fashion sense notwithstanding." Miranda smirked slightly at her own jest.

"Hey! I learned. I couldn't have spent almost a year as your assistant and four in a relationship with you without having learned something, Miranda," Andréa chided. "I've made best-dressed at several events, and I've never hit the worst dressed list once. That's got to count for something."

"It does. I've been very proud of you, Andréa," Miranda informed her. She continued, though it hurt her to give voice to her next thoughts. "You've accomplished wonderful things these last four years. It seems your leaving was the best thing you could have done."

"Don't say that," Andréa snapped. "It wasn't best. Ending a marriage is never best. It's painful and it's brutal, but not best."

Miranda laid Randall on the couch, careful to not wake him and then moved to Andréa's side. She knelt next to the chair and took one of Andréa's hands in hers. "I did not mean to upset you. I'm just not sure you would have accomplished the same things had you remained here. I did not treat you well, Andréa. Had you stayed your unhappiness would have affected your work. It could not help but happen. Nor would I have learned a lesson I very much needed to. My life is significantly better now because of you. I've learned to balance my work and personal life, just as I've learned to appreciate those who are part of both lives."

"Is that why Emily's still with you? She's made a point of never discussing you or the magazine with me, nor will Serena. I couldn't believe she's still an assistant after all this time."

"That's because she's not," Miranda informed her with a twinkle in her eye. "Emily was promoted shortly after you departed."

"Then why is she still sitting outside your office?" Andréa asked.

"Emily drives a hard bargain, as they say," Miranda chuckled. "There is an elaborate title that accompanies her position, but simply put, she is the editor-in-training to me."

"But I always thought Nigel would take over Runway after you," Andréa said frowning.

"No, Darling, there would never be a male at the head of Runway. It's much too female oriented. Women would never believe a male could competently dictate fashion to them. Nigel agreed to stay on until Emily was sufficiently trained to take his position and I was able to get his new position approved by the board. It's taken a bit of time and maneuvering, but by the end of the year Emily will be Art Director and Nigel will be heading Elias-Clarke's new men's magazine. It took some doing, and he will have to cover issues and styles appropriate to the upper middle class as well as the elite, but I have every faith that Nigel will be successful. So you see, I learned, Andréa. It was a bitter lesson, but I put it to the best advantage," Miranda finished and squeezed Andréa's hand. Feeling a her knees stiffen, she began to rise and found herself pulled into Andréa's lap. "Andréa?" she asked curiously.

"Will the lesson stick, Miranda?" Andréa asked, searching Miranda's eyes.

"I've made it three years, seven months, two weeks, and four days," Miranda said solemnly. "It's proven to be very much a day by day effort. Some are better than others." And each of those days she'd dreamed of being this close to her Andréa again. Still, she was afraid to do more than sit perched on Andréa's lap.

Andréa slipped her arms around Miranda's waist, locking her hands together behind her back. "I've missed you, you know. I tried to date," Andréa confessed.

Miranda stiffened. She'd not once thought of being with anyone else. She had gone to every event unescorted or with Nigel for four years. She suddenly felt very foolish for having done so. She attempted to rise, but Andréa's arms tightened holding her in place.

"I said tried to date, Miranda. I never got much further than telling myself it was something I ought to do, except once. Angie arranged a blind date. We didn't even make it out of the driveway. I spent the rest of the night crying because it felt like I'd cheated on you by even agreeing to go," Andréa said, shaking her head ruefully. "I took my body to the other side of the country, but my heart stayed right here with you. That's why I couldn't see you. I didn't dare. I knew the moment I got near you I'd remember why I fell in love with you."

"And that would have been bad, why?" Miranda asked, though she thought she knew what Andréa would answer.

"Because I was sure it would end the same way," Andréa replied. "I couldn't have survived going through that again. I still can't. So if you don't think this change is permanent, tell me now, and nothing else has to happen. You can still see Randy. I'd never try to keep him from you, but I can't risk my heart only to have it broken again."

"I can promise to continue to make every effort as I have been," Miranda said. "But there are no guarantees, Andréa. There never are."

"I can live with that. I'm here for the next year. Do you want to take that time and give it another try?"

Miranda held her breath, her mind churning with all the possibilities. She would never survive losing Andréa again either. It had taken everything in her to put her life back together the last time. But as she said, there were no guarantees, and she did love Andréa so. Releasing her breath slowly, Miranda nodded once. "I'd like to try as long as you can assure me that if it doesn't work out, it won't affect my relationship with Randall. I can't lose you both," she admitted.

"It won't. I give you my word on that, Miranda," Andréa assured her. "I'll be in the production offices all day tomorrow. Elliot's out, and I've got to bring Amanda up to speed on what's already in the can. Maybe, though, you'd like to have dinner with me tomorrow evening. Tina's back on her feet so she can watch Randy for me. The girls can stay there or with Cara, whichever you prefer. I know you won't be comfortable with them staying here alone until the situation with Stephen is resolved."

"Why don't you give Tina another evening to rest? I know Caroline and Cassidy would love to have Randall all to themselves tomorrow. In fact, I believe I'll be following the doctor's orders and staying home tomorrow. As he's already asleep, we could tuck him in upstairs, and he can stay with me here until we go to dinner." Miranda hesitated a moment and then plunged forward. "You're welcome to stay as well. I realize it's too early for anything more intimate, but I'd like to know you're in the house tonight. To be honest, I'd feel safer."

Andréa smiled lovingly. "I can promise you this house is under close surveillance already, but I'd like to stay." She brushed her fingertips over the bruises on Miranda's throat. "I don't like the idea of leaving you alone when you're injured."

"Stephen didn't have a very good grip on me, Andréa, though it was sufficient to make breathing extremely difficult," Miranda reassured her.

"Bastard," Andréa muttered.

"Indeed," Miranda agreed smirking. "If you'll bring our boy, I've set the blue room aside for him. The Book will be here soon, but I'll leave it until morning. I often do now. If you think he'll be all right alone, you can take the green room, or stay in the same room as Randall if you prefer."

"I think I'll try him in his room to start. He's a tough little guy, not at all prone to nightmares. When he's really upset he doesn't sleep at all. That he's so zonked out is a good sign," Andréa assured her. "Hop up, and I'll get him."

"Really, Andréa, I do not hop," Miranda sniffed in mock indignation as she stood.

"Oh, I seem to remember you hopping into bed pretty fast a few times," Andréa teased, rising to her feet.

"Whenever you were there, it was an automatic reaction, Darling," Miranda responded smiling.

"A mutual one, I can assure you, Miranda." Andréa suddenly leaned forward and brushed her lips over Miranda's. "I've wanted to do that since forever."

"I'm glad both that you wanted to and that you followed through," Miranda confessed.

"Let's get Randy to bed before I get into trouble here," Andréa said smirking.

Miranda led the way as Andréa carried their son up the stairs. She could feel Andréa's eyes on her, but then Andréa always did say she loved to watch Miranda's walk. Deliberately putting a little extra swing in her hips, Miranda smiled to herself. If Andréa was still interested, Miranda didn't intend to make it easy for her to resist moving their relationship along quickly.

"Andréa, I'll say good night to the girls and fetch you something to sleep in while you put Randall to bed."

"Yeah, okay," Andréa replied.

Miranda smirked at the hoarse tones. You've still got it, Priestly, she congratulated herself as she turned into Caroline's room.

Shadows danced across the ceiling. Miranda lay watching as they weaved intricate patterns. Knowing that Andréa was just next door while she was lying alone in the bed they had once shared staved off any hope Miranda had of sleeping. In truth, she hadn't slept well since Andréa had left. She hadn't realized how atrocious her sleep patterns actually had always been until those four years when Andréa had graced the opposite side of their bed. Curled against her wife or vice versa Miranda had experienced the first restful sleep that she could remember. She rolled over onto her side and punched her pillow into shape before flopping down on it. She sighed and closed her eyes, trying to force sleep.

Her useless effort was interrupted by a light tap on her door. Pushing up on one arm, Miranda called a soft, "Come in." Her breath caught as Andréa stood framed in the doorway wearing the black slip nightgown Miranda had loaned her. The street lights outside provided sufficient brightness that Miranda could see relatively well in the dimness.

"Hey," Andréa said. "I couldn't sleep."

"It seems a shared malady," Miranda admitted.

"You think the reason is shared, too?"

Miranda sat up and, pushing her pillow up against the headboard, leaned back on it. "I suppose that would depend on whether or not your wakefulness is caused by being near the one person who made you feel safe enough to allow a peaceful sleep while not actually having them in the bed next to you."

Andy smiled and closed the door. She walked slowly to the bedside. "Then it is shared. I think I know the cure, though."

Miranda looked up at Andréa, taking in the white teeth biting into a full bottom lip and the hair mussed by a restless attempt at sleep. "And what might that be?" she asked breathlessly.

"Move over," Andréa said, pulling back the covers.

Scooting to the opposite side, Miranda slid down under the covers as Andréa crawled in next to her. Miranda rolled to her side, facing out and waited. It took only a moment for Andréa to spoon against her back, tucking her legs into Miranda's. With a long arm wrapped around her waist, Miranda caught Andréa's hand and cradled it between her breasts. They each gave a peaceful sigh and slipped into sleep.

Whispered words brought Miranda slowly into wakefulness. She blinked lazily as her eyes focused on the full, plump slope of breast her nose was pressed against. She exhaled slowly and watched with one eye as the silk covering said breast tented as the nipple beneath hardened. Feeling the nipples mate extending into her ear, Miranda smiled. Andréa. It had always been simplicity itself to arouse her wife. Miranda was pleased to see that had not changed. In her sleep hazed state, Miranda didn't think of the possible consequences as she opened her mouth to allow her tongue to seek out the pebbled flesh. Another frantic whisper closed her mouth and drew her eyes to the doorway. Her eyebrow arched as she saw Cassidy trying to restrain a wiggling Randall.

"No! We'll come back later," Cassidy hissed. "Let them sleep!"

" Uh uh, 'et me goes, Cass'dys," Randall said squirming to get free. "I wants my Mommy ands my Da! 'et me goes!"

"Release him, Cassidy," Miranda called softly.

"But, Mom, Andy is—" Cassidy began.

"I am well aware, Darling," Miranda cut her off. "Now, let your brother go."

As Cassidy opened her arms, Randall raced across the distance and stopped at the edge of the bed.

"Yous sleeping ons Mommy," he pointed out.

"Yes, I believe that I am," Miranda agreed smiling. "Is that all right?" She supposed now was as good a time as any to find out if Randall could accept what was for him their new status.

"Is you squishes hers?" he asked seriously.

"No, baby, Miranda isn't squishing me," Andréa answered yawning. "Good morning to you both." She smiled first at her son and then at Miranda. "I see old habits are hard to break, Miranda."

"Well, you do provide such pleasant pillows, Andréa," Miranda teased softly so Randall could not hear.

Andréa laughed, blushing a furious red. "They never did quite make it back to their original size after Randy was born."

"Believe me, I've noticed," Miranda said grinning lecherously.

"Yous is whisperings," Randall said frowning. "Yous says it's not polites to whispers, Mommy."

"You're right, Baby. I apologize. How about a morning hug?" Andréa asked, holding out the arm nearest him.

Miranda made to move off of Andréa, but found herself held in place by the arm that circled her waist. She was able to shift enough to allow room for Randall to snuggle against Andréa's opposite side. Andréa squeezed them both close, and Miranda lifted her arm that had been resting on Andréa's stomach to include her son as she returned the hug. She looked toward the door to call Cassidy to join them only to find her daughter had disappeared. Before she could comment on the fact, Caroline swung into the room with one hand on the door frame. Cassidy raced in behind her.

"Oh, wow! I didn't believe it when Cass told me," Caroline said. "Are you really back?"

Andréa smiled gently. "I'm in New York for the next year. Your mom and I are going to give it another try, but slowly, okay?"

"Yes!" Cassidy yelped, giving a fist pump.

"A family hug might not be out of order at this point," Miranda observed. She had only just finished speaking when two red-headed whirlwinds leapt on the bed. Miranda found herself buried in teenagers and one wiggling little boy. She couldn't remember a time she had been this happy since Andréa had left. Laughing with joy, Miranda's fingers went seeking ticklish sides, and soon they were all involved in an all out tickle fight.

"Stops! Stops! I's gonna wets me pants," Randall chortled.

Andréa laughed uproariously as the other three females practically leapt to the edges of the bed. "He said he was going to if you didn't stop, not that he was going to right that second. Cowards," Andréa teased. "My boy is fully housebroken." She hugged Randall close and grinned proudly.

"Be that as it may, perhaps we should all get dressed and have breakfast. Andréa needs to get to the studio, and you girls have early classes today," Miranda advised.

Randall reached out and brushed his fingers over her throat. "Yous got bruises, Da. That means man hurts you."

"They don't hurt, Darling," Miranda assured him. "But I shall be staying home with you today. I thought we might watch a movie or two."

"Reallys?" Randall exclaimed excitedly and looked at his mother hopefully.

"Yep, really," Andréa agreed and looked at the clock. "Now hit the shower. Angie should be here with clean clothes any minute."

Whooping, Randall hopped off of the bed and raced from the room shouting, "I gets to stays with Da agains!"

"Wait for us!" Caroline called after him as they hurried out as well.

Andréa traced the bruises on Miranda's neck with gentle fingertips. "I should have knocked him into next week."

"Darling, as it is, between you and Randall, Stephen's family plan has been severely altered. I'm sure my neck looks worse than it is. Please don't worry unnecessarily." Miranda caught the hand and raised the fingertips to her lips, kissing each one in turn. "There's something I wanted to ask you. Does Randall have a speech impediment of some kind? I've noticed he adds S's to his words randomly."

"Yes and no," Andy answered, sitting up. "It's not permanent. I had the same issue when I was his age. He'll grow out of it in a year or so. His tongue is a bit too large for his mouth."

Miranda grinned impishly. "You are rather well endowed in that department as well."

Andréa laughed. "You always seemed pleased by my efforts."

Pressing close, Miranda shivered as she remembered how truly satisfying those efforts had proven. "Yes," she breathed sensually. "Though pleased does not begin to describe it. We were extremely compatible in that area."

"We were compatible in most areas, Miranda, except work. After a while, it just seemed I wasn't important enough to make it onto your schedule." Andréa closed her eyes and sighed as a single tear slid down her temple from the corner of her eye. "It got so lonely. I tried to talk to you, but you were either never around or preoccupied to the point of not hearing me."

Catching the droplet on her tongue, Miranda pressed a kiss to Andréa's temple. She hadn't realized Andréa had felt her absence so deeply. She had thought her wife had been involved with her own career to the point that Miranda wouldn't have been missed. How could I have been so foolish? Miranda thought not for the first time. "Then you were right to leave me, Andréa. You deserved better. I'm just grateful you didn't find someone before I had the chance to become that woman."

"I'm willing to give us a chance, Miranda. I still love you. I never stopped. Just…don't break my heart again, Miranda. There won't be a third chance," Andréa warned.

"I will do my very best," Miranda swore with one hand resting over her heart.

"Good enough. Why don't you go ahead and shower. Angie should be here in about five minutes with the clothes for me and Randy along with my briefcase and laptop," Andréa told her.

Miranda rolled onto Andréa, stealing a kiss before rolling off the other side and sliding from the bed. She walked toward the en suite swaying her hips seductively. She paused at the door and looked back over her shoulder. "Wash my back?" she asked seductively.

Andréa swallowed loudly and barked a laugh. "If that's your idea of slow, I'm in so much trouble here I can't begin to comprehend it."

"Yes, well, there' s slow and then there's slow," Miranda replied ambiguously before swaying her way into the bathroom. The sound of water cascading in the shower preceded her nightgown being tossed back into the bedroom.

Andy stared at the pile of silk for a moment, then grabbed a robe and escaped the room.

Andy was just opening the door to admit Angie, when a shout from the staircase drew her attention.

"Hey! Come back here," a robe-clad Cassidy shouted as she sprinted after a fast moving Randy who was wrapped in a large towel from just under his armpits to his ankles. He hurried down the stairs clutching at the terrycloth to keep it in place.

"Angies! Angies! I gets to stays with my Da today!" he exclaimed as he ran up to her. "And Mommy poundeds the bads man!"

"So I heard, Squirt. Your Mom's got a mean right cross, and from what I hear yours isn't bad either," Angie teased as she dropped to one knee to give him a big hug.

"I didn't hits him. I kicks hims good thoughs," Randy bragged.

"Okay, don't need the assistant encouraging the son to be a hooligan here," Andy interrupted. "I totally know that's not in your job description, Ang."

"Yeah, mores the pity," Angie sighed dramatically. "Good morning, Cassidy. How's your Mom and Sis today?"

Cassidy grinned at her. "It still amazes me you can tell us apart. Up to now only our parents and Andy could."

"Andy taught me her secrets," Angie said with a wink. Handing the bag from off her shoulder to Andy, Angie continued, "Here's your clothes. Your driver's outside; work stuff's in the car. I'll be in a meeting with Craft Services. There's some brouhaha with the caterer. Turns out that guy they hired as the second male lead is a vegan, and he's giving the food guys a fit. Doesn't even want his meals traveling in the same truck with the meat." She shook her head ruefully. "Some people just go to extremes."

"Better you than me," Andy said laughing. "I'd send the jerk a steak dinner and tell him to get over it."

"Which is why I'm the associate producer on this one," Angie shot back.

"And you save my bacon every day," Andy agreed laughing.

"Right. Bad pun. I'm out of here."

"And you call tell the jerk I said that, too," Andy called after her before shutting the door. She opened the bag and pulled out a small tote, offering it to Randy. "Your clothes, Oh, Prince of Fashion. I hope you and your Da approve, otherwise you'll both be grumpy the rest of the day."

"We's would just goes shoppings, Mommy, or calls Auntie Em'lys," Randy informed her solemnly. Taking the tote, he looked in it, shook his head and made his way slowly back up the stairswhile frowning the entire way. "Can'ts wears Bills Blass shirt withs Tommys Hilfigers shorts. Angie musts of picks these. Tina knows what matches," he muttered.

Cassidy stared after him open-mouthed. "He really is eerily like Mom and Caroline. How'd that happen?"

Andy shrugged. "The same way you ended up more like me, I guess. We wear what we're told, and those three tell us."

Shaking her head, Cassidy laughed. "You are so right. I need to get dressed. I guess the Princeling is headed for Mom right now to correct the wardrobe malfunction."

"Yep, so I'll use his shower and let them have at it. I've learned not to have clothing arguments with either one of them," Andy said grinning.

"Good plan," Cassidy agreed. They were walking up the stairs together before she spoke again. "Are you really back for good?"

"I want to be, Cass," Andy told her sighing. "But a lot depends on your Mom."

"She really has changed, you know. This isn't sudden or just a show for you. At first, after you left, she was worse than ever, and then slowly things started to change. Now, she's home every evening for dinner whether we are or not. She goes to all our functions. She has her Runway buddies over for dinner and cookouts, throws parties for our friends. I mean, she's always been a good mom. We've always known she loves us, but now she's kinda super mom, or the Miranda Priestly version of it. It's been good, but it would be a whole lot better if you were here, too. Then at least we'd know she was truly happy." Cassidy shrugged.

Andy draped an arm around Cassidy's shoulders. "Randy and I will both be here a lot, though not every night. I want our family back, Cass. We'll just have to see how it goes, though. It's not just my heart I'm risking here."

Cassidy glanced at Andy. "She loves him already. You can see it when she looks at him. It's the same look she gives us. No matter what happens with you and Mom, don't be like Dad. Don't take Randy away from her. It would kill her."

Andy smiled reassuringly. It seemed Miranda wasn't the only one in need of reassurance on this point. "I've already promised Miranda I wouldn't. When the year is up, I'll still be bi-coastal for another two years. After that, if things don't work out, we'd take turns dropping him off, so he gets to spend time with us both. Miranda is his mother, too. I'd never try to take that from her again. Besides, he adores her and I couldn't do it to him."

They had reached the top of the stairs, and Cassidy turned to hug Andy. "Thank you," she whispered. "I love him too. He's my brother."

"I know, Cass. You and Caro are my babies, too."

With a grin, Cass hurried to her room to finish dressing while Andy continued on to Randy's room to shower and dress. After finishing, she was just entering Miranda's room to say good-bye when she was accosted by two very unhappy faces. Two sets of pursed lips turned her way, and two exaggerated sighs were heard.

"Andréa, how could anyone expect my son to wear such things?" Miranda gestured toward the mirror she and Randy were standing in front of.

The blue polo and plaid shorts looked okay to her, but she wisely uttered a sound of agreement.

"I can'ts wears these," Randy said firmly.

"The blues are at least half a shade off," Miranda said. "This will never do. Doesn't your nanny know how to dress a young man properly?"

"Well, as she's a lesbian, I'd say no to the dressing of men, but she does know how to pick out Randy's clothes. I think Angie must have selected them. She's not quite as up on boy couture. I'm sure the two of you will find a way to fix things. I've got to be going, or I'll be late. Hugs and kisses, please." Andy wasn't about to get caught in this fashion debate. She had no doubt Miranda would have designers showing up within the hour to provide proper attire for their son. Not that Andy minded. Randy would need clothes to keep at Miranda's house. He might be a fashion prima don, but he was still a little boy and got dirty like all the rest. It would give the two something to do together and keep them occupied for hours. Accepting a hug and kiss from Randy, Andy then turned to Miranda. "You too, Da," she instructed and Miranda complied with a pleased smile. "I'll break for lunch around one. You're welcome to meet me. Emily knows where I'll be. I had Angie copy her with my schedule for emergencies. Like if you were hungry and wanted a lunch companion," Andy advised her grinning.

"Yes, Darling," Miranda said, already distracted by Randy's clothing again. "If we can correct this disaster, we'll see you then. Otherwise, dinner is at seven."

Laughing, Andy shook her head and left. It was better to get out while she could.

Chapter 5

Deciding there was no reason not to meet Andréa for lunch, Miranda took care in her dressing and added one of her trademark white Hermes scarves in an elegant drape around her throat to cover the bruises. The car delivered Miranda and Randall to the studio fifteen minutes early, as was Miranda's habit. Randall led the way, having accompanied his mother there on several occasions. When they reached Andréa's office, he breezed past the assistant out front with Miranda in tow. He opened the door and stepped back to allow her to precede him. Miranda stopped just inside the door, her face freezing. Standing far too close to Andréa at a large table covered with storyboards was a tall, slender woman of about Miranda's age clad in tailored Armani. Crisp salt and pepper hair was brushed back smoothly, and when she looked up Miranda was met with the darkest blue eyes she had ever seen. Her own blue-grey eyes chilled to a glacial color. Andréa chose that moment to glance up as well, and her smile widened.

"Miranda! Is it that time already?" Andréa asked coming forward. She gave Miranda a quick kiss and ruffled Randall's hair. She chuckled softly when he sighed and smoothed it back down with his hands.

Hellos, 'Mandas," he greeted the other occupant of the room.

"Hey, Randy. How's it going?" she asked.

Miranda frown slightly at the melodious tenor voice. "I don't believe we've met," Miranda said.

"Sorry, Miranda. This is Amanda Treyburn, the director. Amanda, this is Miranda Priestly, m—"

"No need to introduce me to Miranda Priestly, Andy. She's an icon," Amanda interrupted, reaching to shake Miranda's hand.

"I was about to say that Miranda is my…" Andréa looked at Miranda, shrugged and grinned. "Miranda is my wife."

Amanda paused with her hand half extended. "I'm sorry. I thought you said wife."

"I did," Andréa replied, moving to link her arm with Miranda's.

"But I thought you were single," Amanda said with a disappointed look that she quickly masked. "You never mentioned a wife before."

"A trial separation that failed spectacularly," Andréa quipped flippantly. "Miranda has been magnanimous enough to take me back, sorry thing that I am."

Miranda could feel her ruffled feathers settling with each word out of Andréa's mouth. "What you call magnanimous, I call exercising sanity," she said with a fond smile. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Amanda. If you'll excuse us, I'm taking my wife and son to lunch, and we will just make our reservations if we leave now."

Amanda gave her an appraising look. "By all means. I wouldn't want to detain you," she said with an elegant nod.

Back at the car, Randall scrambled into the front seat to talk to Roy, and for once Miranda didn't try to stop him. Seated in the back with Andréa, she kept her voice low enough to not be overheard.

"That woman wants you," she stated bluntly.

"I know," Andréa agreed. "She's asked me out a few times, but I've always said no. She keeps trying, though. I could tell she was building up to another attempt."

Feeling a pang in her chest, Miranda frowned. "Is that the reason you introduced me as your wife?"

"No, I introduced you that way because that's who you are to me. We never divorced, Miranda. We're still married, and I'd like for it to stay that way."

"As would I. May I ask why you gave her the impression that we separated over something you did?"

"I like Amanda. She's an excellent director, and we work well together. Let me finish," Andréa said as Miranda opened her mouth to interrupt. At Miranda's nod, she continued, "You hear things in Hollywood and see them if you know where to look. When it comes to women, Amanda is something of a predator. She's not above using what she can to get the woman she wants. I wasn't about to give her anything to use as a wedge between us. It wouldn't work, but it would be damned irritating while it was happening. This way the mistake was mine and mine alone. Gives her nothing to use. That is, unless she sets her cap on you. Then I'll have to fire her and show her my mean right hook," Andréa finished grinning.

"I believe you would, too," Miranda observed.

"Damn right I would. You're mine, Priestly. You only get away if you want to."

"Then aren't we lucky that I don't want to," Miranda said smiling. She leaned her head against Andréa's and was silent for the rest of the ride. It felt too good just being close again. No words were needed.

When they returned from lunch, Amanda was once again, or perhaps still, in Andréa's office going over the storyboards and notes. She looked up as they entered with an assessing gaze which irritated Miranda to no end.

"We'll let you get back to work, Darling. The decorator is meeting us to begin the plans for Randall's room. I thought we might redo your office at the same time, so if you have a moment, could you have Angela fax any special requirements to the house? I imagine the old arrangement will no longer suit your career needs."

"Of course, Love," Andréa agreed with a twinkle in her chocolate eyes. "I believe the specs for my office in the LA house are on her laptop somewhere. I'll have her send them right away. I'll be home in time for dinner if you have any more questions for me. Any idea what we're having?"

"I've asked Cook to prepare your favorites in honor of your homecoming. The girls will be there. I believe Caroline broke a date to do so. They're thrilled to have you home as well. Cassidy mentioned something about an exhibit at the museum that she wanted to take you to, and I believe Caroline was going to see about theater tickets for us all this weekend. Family life begins again," Miranda finished with an affectionate smile.

"And I couldn't be happier about it. Just remind her Randy can't see just anything," Andréa said laughing. "I'll have Angie send over a wardrobe selection for Randy and me until we can get the households merged. I still need to work from the penthouse since that's where Angie and Tina's apartment is."

"You could speak to them about the mother-in-law suite at the townhouse. It's quite spacious as you know and has its own entrance. Once the baby arrives, they might find it advantageous to be closer to you and Randall there. But we can discuss all of that tonight. Are you ready, Randall?"

"Yes, Da," he replied, placing his small hand in Miranda's.

"Bye, Baby. Have fun," Andréa leaned down and kissed him. Then she stepped closer to Miranda and wrapped her arms around Miranda's waist. "You have fun too," she murmured and then kissed Miranda fully though decorously.

Humming lightly into the kiss, Miranda caressed Andréa's cheek after it ended. "Do hurry home, Darling. The girls are planning a game night with Randall, and I'll have you to myself for much of the evening."

"Can't wait," Andréa replied grinning.

With a nod to Amanda, Miranda led Randall out of the room.

Andy wasn't surprised when Amanda said, "You seem happy."

"I am," Andy agreed. "Ecstatically."

Amanda leaned back against the table and crossed her arms. "You two broke up for a reason. Are you sure going back is the right thing to do?"

Andy stared at her for a moment irritated that she would even ask something so personal. She decided to put an end to Amanda's interest right then and there.

"Even if I'd never gotten back with Miranda, there would never be anyone who could measure up to what I'd lost. Miranda is a goddess. More importantly, she's my goddess, and there isn't a soul who can hope to top that. My heart is hers whether she claims it or not. No one else has interested me from the moment I met her, and no one ever will."

Amanda sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. "Okay, you made your point. I still want to work on this project with you. Friends?" she asked hopefully.

"As long as you know that's all it will ever be," Andy replied. "And just so we're crystal clear. Try anything with my wife, and I'll use every ounce of power both she and I have to ruin you. Trust me, that's a lot of power."

Amanda held up her hands in surrender. "Easy there, Tiger. After meeting her, I realize I couldn't handle the woman. The fact that you can tells me you're out of my league also. I'm not that big an egotist to not know my limits."

Andy smiled sunnily. "Good, then we'll continue to get along just fine. Now, let's get back to work. I'd like to see filming resume tomorrow. Every day the crew sits twiddling their thumbs is costing a fortune."

"You got it," Amanda agreed, turning back to the storyboard she'd been looking at. "You didn't really authorize Elliot to have the vampire hunters be all female and mostly naked in this scene, did you?"

"There's a reason you're here and he's not," Andy said with grimace as she joined her at the table. "That was just one of his hare-brained ideas. Here, I'll show you the others. We've got to fix all of this by six. My wife is expecting me for dinner." Andy's grin widened until it lit up the smallest corners of the room. "And I never keep Miranda waiting. It just isn't done."

Andy let herself into the townhouse. She'd tried her key on a whim and was surprised to find it still worked. She was standing inside the closed doorway looking down at the key in amazement when Miranda distracted her.

"I didn't want even the slightest impediment if you decided you wanted to come home," she said softly. "You'll find your office is untouched and your space in the closet and dressers is still empty. Everything is exactly as you left it, Andréa."

Andy just looked at Miranda, her heart swelling in her chest. "That isn't like you," she observed. "A week after Stephen was gone, you redecorated the whole house."

"You're not Stephen. I did think about it, but I realized nothing could erase your presence here, nor did I wish to. To change things I would have had to accept losing you, you see. I could never quite bring myself to do so. I honored your wishes, but in my heart I hoped you'd change your mind and give us another chance. For that to happen, I knew I had to change me, not the house, so that's what I did," Miranda said with an elegant shrug.

"I thought about what you said at the studio today. I know it was partly for Amanda's benefit, and I set her straight on a few home truths after you left, but I kept finding myself returning to the idea. Angie said she'd talk to Tina tonight. Tina has said she'd like to continue as Randy's nanny, and it would make more sense for her not to have to cart the baby across town every morning. Angie agreed with me but left the final decision to Tina. I was thinking Emily and Serena might like to rent the penthouse. It's paid for, and I'm sure we can reach an agreement that they can both afford and not feel like it's charity. Emily's really proud, you know."

"Yes, I can't imagine where she learned it from," Miranda said with a smug smile.

"Oh, I can think of a shining example that she's confronted with every day," Andy shot back grinning.

"What happened to taking it slowly?"

"Yeah, about that. It occurred to me that I really wasn't being fair to either of us. I want this to work, and I need to give it my all. I can't really do that if I officially live somewhere else. After the year is up, I'd planned to be based in LA but keep the penthouse here for when I came to New York. Truthfully, I'll be here more than there since the next two books in the series will be based here. They're already optioned for film."

"Do they do that?" Miranda asked curiously.

"Well, S.P. Productions does. They kinda have the inside track," Andy said with a shrug. "It's a relatively new company. Some airhead writer is the head of it. She's talked her erstwhile assistant into taking on a large role as well. The only thing is they need someone with a serious head for business and excellent taste in costuming and set design to oversee some of the creative stuff, I mean creative aspects, and the money part. Do you know anyone who might be interested? That role would be kind of small for the next year or so, but it would get bigger when it came time to do the actual films."

"You're offering me a position in your company?" Miranda asked in amazement. "I know nothing about making films."

"You know about business. You know about fashion and design. There's no one with better taste, nor anyone I trust more," Andy explained. "And it's not a position. It's a partnership. I know you, Miranda. You're a workaholic by nature. It's just who you are. You've trimmed down your work days and made time for the twins' activities, but they're teenagers with lives of their own. They were teens and already branching out into their own worlds before I left. Randy and I will take an even bigger slice out of your time. I know we can make this succeed, and working on the same project will give us even more time together. There's a suite of offices above the ones I'm in now. It takes up most of that floor. There are two big corner units with connecting doors and a small room in between that connects to the hallway as well for when Randy is there. He'd flip over having his own office. We'll even put his name on the door. Whatta ya say? Will you be the P in S.P. Productions?"

"I—" Miranda looked at her as if thinking quickly. "Could you stretch that to a year and a half? Emily will never be ready to take over Runway before then, and I don't wish to pass it to anyone else. You realize the kind of ridiculous hours I'll have to put in to have her ready?"

Andy nodded. "Yeah, I kinda figured that, but it's different this time. It'll only be for a specified length of time, and we'll work out ways to be together. If you can't get home for dinner, we'll bring it to you. Whenever you can bring work home, Randy and I will at least know you're in the house, and we could even work in the same room sometimes."

"Andréa, you left me for this very reason. How do I know it won't drive you away again?" Miranda asked desperately.

"Because this time we'll be doing it together. I won't be left wondering where you are and why you'd rather be there than with me. Don't you see, Miranda, I left because I felt it didn't matter whether I was here or not. This time I know it matters. You've done everything you can at Runway. It's the holy grail for fashion. Give it to Emily. You know she'll make you proud," Andy urged.

"I need time to think about this. Must I answer right now?"

Andy moved to take Miranda into her arms. "Take all the time you need. The next book has to be written. I won't have time to flesh out the outline until filming is done and we've gotten through most of the post-production. There's time. All the time you want, Miranda." Andy sealed the promise with a long, leisurely kiss.

Miranda remained distracted for most of the evening, saying very little at dinner. The twins gave Andy a worried look at one point that she met with a reassuring smile. Randy, for his part, remained quiet as well, as if sensing something big was happening around him. They had all just finished watching the latest Harry Potter movie when Randy turned to Miranda.

"What's wrongs, Da?" he asked solemnly. "Cans I helps?"

Miranda smiled and stroked his bangs into place. "Nothing's wrong, my Love. I was just thinking about how best to decorate your office in our new family production company."

"Hallelujah!" Andy shouted and launched herself at Miranda to kiss her firmly. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you," she said between kisses. "You won't regret this, Miranda."

"If this reaction continues, I'm sure I won't," Miranda laughed.

"What's going on? What production company?" Caroline demanded as Andy leaned back from Miranda.

At Andy's nod, Miranda explained. "Andréa is forming a production company and has asked me to be her partner in it. It would mean leaving Runway, but not for at least eighteen months."

"You'd really leave Runway?" Cassidy asked aghast.

"Yes, Bobbsey. I think it's time. Andréa was right. I've done all I can there. It's time to hand it off to Emily and try something new."

"But you don't know anything about making movies," Caroline pointed out.

"I used that argument myself," Miranda said with a laugh. "My contribution will be on the business end, as well as matters of costuming and design. Those things I know very well."

Cassidy started to grin. "You could so do this, Mom. You really could."

"Can Emily be ready that fast?" Caroline asked clearly still having doubts.

"That part is going to take some sacrifices on all our parts," Andy chimed in. "Your mom is going to have to go back to her crazy hours to get Emily ready in time, but we've worked that out, too. It'll mean having dinner at Runway sometimes and turning the den into one big work space for all us in order to have time as a family, but when it's over, we'll be working on the same project out of the same offices. I think it's a fair tradeoff."

"What about me and Cass? We're students, not filmmakers," Caroline said frowning.

"Caroline, you're majoring in Design, and Cassidy is studying Theater Arts. Can you think of anywhere better to get practical experience? There's costuming, set design and dressing, lighting, sound, and everything else that goes into making a movie. While some parts of it are vastly different than theater, others are very similar. The first two are all about design. You've got guaranteed internships, even part-time jobs if you want them. Like Miranda said, it's a family business," Andy explained.

"You'd really let us be part of it, too?" Cassidy asked wide-eyed.

"You're part of the family, aren't you?" Andy questioned by way of answering.

"You're serious? You're really going to do this?" Caroline asked her mother.

"Yes, I am," Miranda said, smiling complacently. "As Andréa pointed out, I can't change my nature. So it would be better if I invested my tendency toward overworking into this family. I believe this is the way to do so."

"Then I'm in," Caroline declared. "When do we start?"

"Tomorrow, if you want," Andy told her while looking at Miranda. "Meet me at my current office, and I'll show you the ones I was talking about. Then we can grab dinner somewhere."

"I'll have Emily make a reservation as I never grab my meals," Miranda responded smartly.

"Oh, Baby, is that ever gonna change," Andy said laughing.

"I's going to haves an office, toos?" Randy spoke up.

"Yes, you are, Little Man," Andy answered. "Right between mine and your Da's. But you won't be going to work every day."

At his frown, Miranda added, "Someone has to be there to help Tina with the new baby. It's a very big responsibility. I was hoping you would take care of that for us, Randall."

He nodded solemnly. "Yes, Da. I cans do's it." He punctuated his sentence with a healthy yawn.

"Looks like it's time for some of us to hit the sack," Andy observed.

"I'll take him," Cassidy offered. "I've got some studying to do, anyway. Come on, little brother. I'll tell ya the one about the three models and the fire-breathing dragon." She smirked at her mother as she held out a hand to Randy.

"A dragons likes Da?" he asked.

"Exactly like Da," Caroline responded as she also rose. "Cass isn't the only one who needs to study. We'll see you in the morning, I'm sure." She grinned teasingly at Andy. "Do try to keep it down, though. We children need our sleep."

"Brat," Andy snarled playfully, leaning over and tossing a pillow at Caroline who darted out the door after her sister and little brother.

"So," Miranda began, fingers toying with the arm of the couch. "Will there be a need to 'keep it down' as Caroline so elegantly phrased it?"

"If you want there to be, then yes, there will definitely be a need to do so," Andy said smiling.

"Hallelujah!" Miranda quipped and launched herself into Andy's arms.

Their lips came together with all the hunger that a four-year separation could create. Miranda shamelessly rubbed herself again Andy's body.

"I want you," she moaned between hungry kisses. "It's been so long. So incredibly long."

Miranda made quick work of the buttons on Andy's shirt. In seconds, she was worming her tongue under black lace to curl it around the hardened nipple she'd missed out on that morning.

"Miranda," Andy gasped. "I can take it off."

"No time," Miranda insisted, pulling the lace down to wrap her lips around the turgid flesh. Miranda sucked and lapped at Andréa's breast until she had her wife writhing beneath her. Then she moved to the other breast, freeing it from its lacy prison to feast on the nipple. "I love your breasts," Miranda mumbled with her mouth full.

Andréa began to pull frantically at the fastener of her slacks. Succeeding, she shoved her trousers and underwear down as far as she could reach. "Touch me, Miranda. Please. I can't take it much longer."

When the scent of Andréa's arousal reached her nose, Miranda went searching for the source. Mouth watering, she shoved the clothing to Andréa's ankles and pried her knees apart. Slipping to the floor, she tugged Andréa's hips closer and slid her tongue into slick heat.

After years of longing, Miranda had her Andréa right where she wanted her, and she intended to enjoy the moment to the fullest. "I'm going to drink you dry," she warned before pressing her lips against Andréa's opening and sucking strongly. She set a rhythm of penetrating deeply with her tongue and sucking hard as she withdrew.

Andréa pulled her knees up to her chest and spread them as far as possible, opening herself to Miranda's assault. "Fuck, Baby. So good," she hissed.

Never pausing, Miranda began to circle her thumb over Andréa's clit drawing strangled screams from her wife. With her other hand, she grabbed a pillow and pushed it into Andréa's hands. Miranda knew in a moment, Andréa was going to need it or be heard far down the block. Moving her mouth away from swollen flesh, Miranda plunged two fingers into Andréa's opening, curling them and stroking over the small patch of roughed flesh, knowing that would drive Andréa to the brink of orgasm. The shuddering gasps she heard told Miranda that Andréa was close. She quickly removed her fingers and once against attacked with her mouth and tongue. Her fingers, now slick with Andréa's juices, slid easily into the puckered opening below. Miranda timed her various strokes and sucking to constantly move Andréa closer to the edge, each movement building on the last until Andréa arched strongly. The roar of her orgasmic release was muffled by the pillow and still Miranda continued, driving her to orgasm again, again, again until weak hands pushed at her shoulders.

"No…more," Andréa gasped, chest heaving.

Miranda crawled up, shifting Andréa to the side so she could lie next to her. Pulling her exhausted wife into her arms, Miranda tugged a throw over them and held Andréa as she drifted in to sleep. Smiling into the silence of the room, Miranda waited. Her beautiful Andréa would wake soon enough and they could move to the bedroom. Miranda was far from done with her wife.

Chapter 6

Andy bit her lip against a moan as she shifted in her chair yet again.

"I take it your first night of re-married life was a success," Angie teased. "Is Miranda going to walk in here limping, too?"

"Miranda will breeze in as elegantly as ever," Andy assured her. "I never have figured out how she does it. The woman's going to put me in my grave."

"At least you can go smiling, Darling," Miranda spoke from the doorway.

Angie howled with laughter at Andy's pitiful groan. She rose from her seat at the table where she'd been reviewing the budget with Andy. "I'll leave you two alone. If Tina doesn't have this baby soon, I'm going to die of envy around you, Boss," she teased Andy as she strolled out, closing the door behind her.

"How are you, Darling? Terribly sore?" Miranda asked in concern, though there was an air of smugness about her that made Andy smile.

"Terribly is putting it mildly, Miranda. Did you have to make up for the entire four years in one night?" Andy asked, chuckling.

"Don't be silly, Andréa. That was only the first year. We have three more to go," Miranda replied in her calm tones.

"I'll say it again, you're gonna kill me, Woman," Andy sighed. "Do I at least get recovery time before you go all nympho on me again?"

"I'll think of something," Miranda said, waving Andy's request away.

"That's what I'm afraid of." Andy sighed. "I'm still working on how being almost twice my age gives you twice the stamina."

"It's all in how you choose to expend your energy, Darling," Miranda replied, as if that explained it all.

"Yes, well, tonight I'm going to expend mine on you," Andy warned her with a grin.

"I'll look forward to it," Miranda commented. "I wish to ask you something. I know you said I would not see the bodyguards you engaged. Are you sure they're there?"

Andy grinned at her. "Actually, they're not. At least, not now. They were pulled off about an hour ago. It seems Stephen has checked in for a lengthy stay in rehab."

"He chose to do this on his own?" The doubt was clear in Miranda's tone.

"Let's say he was persuaded it would be in his best interest to do so. I think he now understands that drinking makes him do foolish things that could prove hazardous to his health," Andy informed her with a meaningful glint in her eyes.

"You've changed a great deal in these last four years. Would it be wrong to say I find it terribly attractive?" Miranda asked as she walked toward Andy, hips swaying.

Relaxing back in her chair, Andy watched every movement. "That's nice," she commented. "Even better from the other direction." When Miranda drew close enough, Andy reached out to pull her closer, pressing Miranda back to slide onto the desk in front of her.

"You conduct your place of business much differently than I do mine, Andréa," Miranda observed from her perch on the desktop.

Leaning over to press kisses to each of Miranda's knees in turn, Andy smiled up at her. "I try to make work fun," she said, sliding her hands up under Miranda's skirt and along the sides of toned thighs. Andy quickly found her wrists captured before she could reach as high as she wanted.

"If you are not going to behave appropriately in an office setting, I'm not sure it would be a good idea to enter into a partnership with you," Miranda said sternly, but with a twinkle in her eyes.

With her wrists locked firmly against Miranda's thighs, Andy was just able to trace her fingers along the lower edge of the silk covering one hip. She kept her eyes fixed on Miranda's while she teased the skin along that line. "I think I behave perfectly for the partnership we have. " Andy rose and captured Miranda's lips with her own. "How about I show you the office space, and if you like it as much as I think you will, we can celebrate our business partnership."

"What did you have in mind?" Miranda murmured against Andy's lips.

"There's basic furniture in some of the offices," Andy explained, moving her lips along Miranda's jaw. "Which includes a nice, large couch."

"Then by all means, let's proceed."

Smiling, Andy slipped her hands out from their resting place and helped Miranda from the desk. With Miranda's hand in hers and their fingers entwined, Andy led the way out of her office and into the next phase of their future.

The End