Disclaimer: I don't own DWP or "You Look Good In My Shirt" by Keith Urban.

You Look Good In My Shirt

When you walked up behind me and covered my eyes
And whispered in my ear, guess who
I rattled off names like I really didn't know
But all along I knew it was you

"Guess who?" A voice whispered in her, as warm hands covered her eyes. She knew that voice anywhere. She'd heard it for almost a year. She wondered when the girl had become so bold. But she didn't care; she was enjoying herself at the moment.

"Emily?" She asked, playing along. Thanks to their separation in Paris, where the girl had walked away, they'd had the opportunity to get to know each other beyond work. The girl had become a friend of sorts. She had called to apologize for leaving like she had, which has earned her the reference that ensured her job at the New York Mirror.

"Nooo. Try again." The voice caressed her ear again.

"Nigel?" A soft snort, told her, that the girl knew she was playing with her. They had taken to calling each other a few times a week. They hadn't had time to actually sit down in each other's company, so the calls and emails had made due until their schedules cleared up. That had been six months ago. They had expounded on their friendship, to the point where the girl had become her confidant, her best friend. But things had changed a month ago.

"Nope! Try again!" She sighed. The girl knew she was getting tired of playing.

"Serena?" A chuckle met her ear this time. A month ago, the girl had been a bit distraught over something one of her other friends had said. The girl had broken down and sobbed on her shoulder. That had led to the kiss. The kiss that caused them to spring apart and the girl had run from the room. She hadn't had time to react properly and suddenly her best friend was speaking to her. It had taken three weeks for her to convince the girl to speak to her about everything, and another week to set a time to meet up in person. Which led them to their current position.

"No! Miranda, really?" The girl said with a hint of exasperation.

"Oh, you must be Andrea then." She said finally looking at the girl with a smirk. Few people knew her well enough to know, that she truly has a wicked sense of humor. Andy plopped down next to her on the bench she was occupying.

"So…" She started, staring the older woman in the eye. Miranda wasn't sure what overtook her, but she lived for a month without this girl, this woman and she had missed her terribly. She leaned in and kissed her soundly on the lips.

A Few Hours Later, Miranda's Townhouse

Miranda walked out of her bathroom, and stared at her bed. The young brunette was sprawled on her stomach across most of the bed, watching her with a cheeky smile on her face. She couldn't help but return it with a wicked one of her own as she leaned on the doorjamb.

"You look good in my shirt." Andy commented with a gleam in her eyes. Miranda looked down at the loose Northwestern t-shirt she'd grabbed from the floor and pulled over her head before going into the bathroom. She hadn't been paying attention to what she grabbed. She hadn't been awake enough to care.

"Hmmm. Well then perhaps we should dress you in one of mine, so that we're even." Andy shook her head and stood up, oblivious to her nakedness, and stretched like a cat before she stalked toward her lover.

"If you want…" She trailed off before kissing the older woman hungrily and pulling her back toward the bed.

And maybe it's a little too early
To know if this is gonna work
All I know is you're sure looking
Good in my shirt
That's right
You look good in my shirt