A/N: I do not own the Devil Wears Prada or its characters.

The Lady in Waiting

Andrea knew she was Miranda Priestly's personal assistant. She knew that running mindless errands, scheduling appointments, and accompanying her to take notes was all part of the job when she accepted the position. Why, after a year and a half, she was still doing it—she constantly asked herself this. Over the past year, Andrea had developed feelings for her boss. She would give anything to spend more time with her, but lately, her time with Miranda was cut short by additional meetings, holiday parties, and extra errands.

Sitting in the town car, Andrea thought of how much time she spends waiting for Miranda, and how often Miranda returns, but at the attention of someone else. The staff at Runway recognized that she was terrorizing them more than usual, that her hours were just a little earlier until just a little later, and that her demands were beyond outrageous.

Andrea tried telling Miranda to slow down, to take time for herself. She even booked some additional pedicures, but nothing was helping. Miranda was under a great deal of stress this year, and Andrea was worried. She saw how the divorce affected Miranda last year. When Miranda returned from Paris, she suffered severe migraines for over a month—so bad that Andrea, Emily, and Nigel were working from Miranda's home, Andrea at her bedside.

She didn't want that to happen again. She wanted to prevent any sort of breakdown and save the entire staff from the added stress.

Roy quickly opened the door and allowed Miranda back into the town car. She was giving orders to Emily on her cell phone, then quickly dialed Nigel. Andrea couldn't get a word in edgewise. In fact, it was like she was invisible. The car arrived back at Runway and before getting out, Miranda turned to Andrea, "Jackets, Chanel. And skirts, Donna. That's all."

In an instant, Andrea was alone in the town car once again.

Miranda stormed into the Runway offices and marched directly into Nigel's office. "Why are we not read-y?"

"Miranda, we're ready. We are. Here," Nigel said, gesturing at the rack next to the door.

"Is it too much to ask that you bring me something new, Nigel? I've seen all this before. This," she added, selecting a chartreuse wool skirt, is already on the racks in the department stores. I expect 9am Monday will give you sufficient time to get your shit together?" she said before storming out and back down the hall to her own office, leaving Nigel speechless.

"Miranda, your coffee is on your desk, I will take your coat and bag, you have a 3pm call with Jacqueline, and Patrick has called for you several times—"

"Emily, bore someone else with the details. I am not to be disturbed this afternoon," Miranda said, walking into her office and leaving the assistant behind. "That's all," she said before slamming the door shut.

Miranda tossed her bag on her chair and paced her office as she untied the belt around her coat. What is wrong with me? How does she do that to me? Miranda sat on the sofa in the corner of her office, leaning her head back to rest on the arm of the couch.

She pressed two fingers gently to her lips as she sighed a deep breath. She had been feeling quite unraveled lately, but her condition greatly improved when in the presence of her young dark-haired assistant. Since the divorce, she felt a certain draw towards Andrea, a sense of gratitude so deep she could not express it. She knew she could not allow herself to spend too much time alone with the young woman, for she didn't know that she could resist inappropriate behavior.

As Miranda brushed her finger along her lower lip, she recalled kissing Andrea's forehead when she thanked her for staying with her. Closing her eyes, she let herself drift into a peaceful slumber.

Andrea returned from Donna and Chanel, returning with the items Miranda requested. Seeing Miranda's door shut, Andrea hesitated. Emily was shouting some warning about Miranda not wanting to be disturbed, but Andrea needed to see her, needed to see that she was okay.

She quietly opened the door and slipped inside, closing the door behind her. Miranda was strewn across the couch, still wearing her coat. Andrea set the bags on the floor near Miranda's desk and quietly walked over to the couch, taking a seat next to her boss. Miranda was sleeping deeply. Andrea watched her chest rise and fall with each breath.

Andrea reached up and took Miranda's hand which was draped softly across her face. Caressing Miranda's hand in her own, Andrea leaned her head on Miranda's shoulder and softly whispered, "Miranda, sweetheart, it's late—you should get home."

Miranda slowly opened her eyes, feeling Andrea's breath against her neck. Miranda squeezed her hand and turned to look at her young assistant as she started to stand from the couch, "Andrea, what are you doing here?"

"Um," Andrea quickly tried to think of a response, "I just returned with the items you requested."

"I see that, but I mean why are you here, next to me?" Miranda asked warmly as she placed Andrea's hand back on her lap.

"Miranda, I was worried about you. You've been running yourself down, and I couldn't tell that you were sleeping when I first walked in. It looked—anyway, I was so relieved that you were resting, but it's already past six o'clock and—"

"Andrea, thank you. I appreciate the concern. What time did you say it was?"

"It's quarter past six, Miranda."

"Oh my god, get me Patrick immediately."

Andrea sighed as she ran to her desk to dial Patrick Demarchelier's number. She longed for moments like that with Miranda, no matter how fleeting they were.

That evening, the Book was finished early and Miranda was still at the office, so she arrived home relatively early. She was exhausted, and immediately crawled into her bed, eager to catch a few extra hours' sleep.

"Ladies," a loudspeaker announced, "the Queen arrives shortly. That's all."

Andrea followed the other women into a chamber that was much like a locker room. Andrea found her name, and began removing her berry-colored sheath dress and slipping into the plum longsleeve leotard. Each of the women had a similar leotard, each with a slightly different neckline, some sleeveless, some longsleeve. Andrea's name was between Lily Rueff and Serena Schiller. She knew them, but wasn't sure why no one was speaking to each other.

The women filed out of the room and down a massive white marble staircase. Andrea couldn't help thinking it reminded her of the British Library, two identical staircases encircling a large ivory tower. At the base of the staircases was a large pool of water, roughly three feet deep.

The voice came over the loudspeaker again, "Step into the water and select a card from the deck."

As the women descended the stairs and entered the pool, each selected a card: yellow numbered one, green numbered two, or red numbered three. Andrea was not sure what the cards meant, but she did as the others and dipped her body into the water to wet her leotard before moving to the other stairs. Andrea stood at the bottom, unsure of what to do. A male attendant stood at the base of the stairs, also wearing a plum leotard. A blonde woman was the first to approach the steps. She showed her yellow card to the attendant and was allowed to climb the stairs.

"Where is she going?" Andrea asked the attendant.

"To attend to the Queen."

It didn't satisfy Andrea's curiosity, she climbed the first stair and held up her card. The attendant would not let her pass until another woman, also carrying a green number two card, stood next to her. The attendant allowed the pair to pass.

When Andrea reached the top of the stairs, she and the other woman were led into a small antechamber where several male attendants stood watch. The male attendant closest to the doorway, a lean, muscular African-American man, collected their green cards and led them into the hallway. "Do not touch the Queen," he said, "unless she explicitly asks you."

The floor sloped downward, and at the end of the hallway, it opened to the right to a large room, several stories high, with a large window to the left and a giant bed, raised high in the center of the room. The bed was a king-sized daybed, with rails around three sides. A satin plum comforter was draped over the bed, with many various plum and gold pillows scattered along the edges.

Lounging on her elbow along the back of the bed was the Queen, wearing a plum velvet robe with sleeves that flared and a high slit up the back of the robe. There was a stiff Elizabethan collar on the robe, and the Queen's silver-white hair was piled on her head in soft curls.

Andrea had never been this close to the Queen. She was enthralled, and wanted nothing more than to bring pleasure to Her Majesty. "You," the Queen called out, pointing at the woman who entered with Andrea. "Come," she said, motioning to the bed in front of her.

The young woman approached the bed before crawling on top. An older male attendant stood behind the bed, holding a pole with a small cup on the end, from which he poured water across the Queen's legs. The young woman sank to her knees and the Queen leaned forward and kissed her. Andrea crept closer, watching their kiss in awe. Her thigh brushed against the bed when the Queen quickly pulled away from the kiss.

"You, stay back. Over there, behind the corner," the Queen said, gesturing towards the corner of the bed where pillows were piled high. Andrea stepped back and hid behind the corner of the bed, fighting back tears. She wanted the Queen so badly. She was overwhelmed by her beauty, and devastated at the rejection.

If all the young women out there were there to please the Queen, in twos, threes, or alone, Andrea could not understand how she was so undesirable. Standing there, listening to the Queen's moaning as she had her way with the young woman. Andrea ran back up the hallway she entered the room from, tripping and falling halfway and crawling back up to the antechamber.

"Andrea, what is wrong?" The attendant asked, helping her up and wiping tears from her eyes.

"She—she pushed me away. She doesn't want me." Andrea cried, "I—I'll never be like the others. I'll never be good enough."

The attendants in the room tried to reassure Andrea, telling her how gorgeous she was and encouraging her to give it another shot. Taking a deep breath, Andrea stood at the hallway, waiting for the attendant to let her back into the hallway, alone this time. Another young woman entered the antechamber, carrying a yellow number one card, and Andrea casually directed her to wait behind her. Within seconds, the attendant stepped aside, giving Andrea a slight push.

Summoning her courage, Andrea stepped in front of the Queen once again, and approached the bed. Her Majesty was still situating herself after the last woman, and was startled upon seeing Andrea.

"Andrea, why have you returned?" The Queen demanded.

Andrea silently slipped out of her leotard and crawled onto the bed, naked. "I am here for your pleasure, my Queen. But nothing would please me more than to give you pleasure as well, if I may be permitted to touch."

The Queen waved off the attendant about to pour water on her and did not break eye contact with Andrea. "That is…acceptable," she said, nodding.

Andrea smiled and leaned forward, planting her lips on the Queen's exquisite neck, sucking gently on her skin. Andrea trailed her kisses down the Queen's body, and Her Majesty herself loosened the tie on her robe, giving Andrea access to her perfect breasts. She parted the Queen's robe and ran her fingers up and down the Queen's thighs before bending down to taste her juices.

The Queen tasted divine, and Andrea was humming with her own pleasure as her tongue explored the Queen's body. Andrea pressed her fingers to the Queen's sensitive bud, thrusting her tongue deeper and deeper. Almost immediately, the Queen reached backwards, her hands grabbing for something, as her hips bucked wildly off the bed, her breathing ragged and quick. As she recovered her senses, Andrea crawled up on top of her body, kissing her chest and shoulders again. The Queen reached her hand up to Andrea's face and pulled her closer, pressing her lips against the young woman's, moaning into Andrea's mouth as she tasted herself on her lips.

"Tell me," Andrea said, her mouth and hands still exploring the Queen, "how did you know my name?"

"One never forgets one so bold. I noticed you the day you arrived, Andrea."

Andrea smiled and sucked harder on her nipple. "Oh, my Queen, you are beautiful beyond compare."

"Please," the Queen responded as she arched into Andrea's lips, "call me Miranda."

"Yes, Miranda."

"Marcus?" Miranda called, the young woman's lips still on her breast, "Get Andrea a silk robe, and anything else she needs."

Andrea was saddened at the words, wondering if her time with Miranda was through.

"Oh, and Marcus, Andrea will be staying here with me for the rest of the day."

Miranda was busy straightening out her velvet robe and fixing her hair. She didn't hear Andrea lean over and ask Marcus to bring a few items for her. Within thirty seconds, Marcus returned and helped Andrea into the robe, slipping the items she requested underneath a pillow.

Miranda looked around the bed, confused. "How can we—I don't see—"

"Here," Andrea said, slipping into the far corner of the bed and spreading her legs for Miranda to sit directly in front of her, leaning her back to Andrea's front. Andrea wrapped her arm around Miranda and cupped her breast through the robe with her other hand. Miranda nodded, and another young girl soon entered the room.

"You may approach," Miranda said, watching carefully as the young woman studied Andrea while climbing on the bed.

"My Queen," she began, "I am here to serve and please you and you alone." She bowed her in subjectivity.

"I want to see you pleasure yourself," Miranda said.

The young woman inserted two fingers into her folds and began pumping until she came.

"That's all," Miranda said, and the young woman quickly left the room. As the next woman was nearing, Miranda was leaning forward, straightening her velvet robe. Andrea took the opportunity to affix the strap-on Marcus brought her to her own body, hidden under her robe. Andrea pulled Miranda backwards as the next young woman approached, and Andrea knew Miranda felt something against her backside.

"Come closer," Miranda beckoned the young woman, pulling her near her body. Miranda proceeded to lick the young girl's skin, moaning and humming as she caressed her body. Andrea took the opportunity to reach under Miranda's robe—thankful for the generous back slit—and dip her fingers into Miranda's wetness. She pulled Miranda's wetness back to her anus, circling and applying gentle pressure, repeating the process until Miranda's hole was sufficiently relaxed and stretched.

Miranda sent the young woman away as Andrea was urging her to lift her hips and impale herself. Miranda took hold of the railings on either side of her and slowly lifted herself onto the penis. The portion inside Andrea was crushing her clitoris in just the right spot and she felt like she was about to burst. Wrapping her arms around Miranda and slightly changing the angle, Miranda's panting turned into screams as she adjusted to the foreign object.

Before she and Andrea could finish, two young women appeared in front of them. "Approach. Both of you. One of you will wear a strap-on." Miranda instructed as Marcus passed them the object.

They enacted several scenarios in multiple positions before Miranda thanked them and sent them away. Andrea had removed the penis from her ass and discarded the device, asking Marcus for a fresh one and handing it to Miranda. "You should try it, wearing it, that is."

Miranda looked confused, so Andrea gently reached around and put the strap-on in place. The next young woman who approached eagerly removed her leotard and climbed onto Miranda's lap. "Turn around," Miranda instructed, not wanting to see the girl's face. Miranda's hands were on the girl's hips as she lowered herself onto the penis. Miranda's hips were bucking up into the young girl, and she soon shuddered and fell back into Andrea's lap, dismissing the girl.

"Do not send anyone else," the Queen instructed her attendants, and turning to Andrea. "I have just what I need right here." Miranda had a mischievous grin on her face as she began assaulting Andrea's body with kisses, pressing their bodies together and bringing Andrea to such an intense orgasm that all she could see for several minutes was bright lights.

"Miranda, do you know how long I've been waiting for you?" Andrea asked.

"My darling, I'm—"

Andrea's dream was interrupted by the ring of her telephone. Miranda's ring, actually. Her mind was reeling and her heart still beating rapidly from the intense dream she just experienced.

"Yes, Miranda?" she answered breathlessly, hoping Miranda had not hung up.

"Andrea—where are you?"

"In bed."

"I—I need you here right away."

"What's wrong?" Andrea asked. She thought Miranda sounded strange, but given that she just woke up from an intense dream concerning her boss, she wasn't quite sure her senses could be trusted.

"I—it's—I can't— oh, just get over here. Now!" Miranda practically shouted through the phone before ending the call.

Andrea quickly jumped out of bed, threw on her yoga pants and a zip-up fleece over her camisole before grabbing her coat and bag and heading out the door. Luckily she found a cab right away, and she was at Miranda's in less than fifteen minutes. She wasn't sure what was wrong, but Miranda needed something. Andrea thought back to the last time Miranda needed something—painkillers for her migraines.

Before Andrea could come to a conclusion, the taxi pulled up to Miranda's home. It was four o'clock in the morning, and Andrea couldn't even begin to imagine what the Queen—uh, that is, Miranda—wanted. Also, she really needed to get that dream out of her mind.

"Miranda?" Andrea called quietly as she entered the darkened house, quickly searching the first floor for her boss.

Andrea climbed the stairs, again calling Miranda's name, this time hearing a muffled sound from the bedroom. She rushed to the door and turned the knob.

Miranda was laying on her back on the bed, wearing nothing more than a camisole and underwear. She had a wet cloth on her forehead and a half-melted icepack on her abdomen. Her eyes were closed as she restlessly moved her arms and legs, softly moaning. Andrea quickly realized Miranda was running a fever, so she went to Miranda's bathroom to retrieve some Tylenol and a glass of water. Miranda would need to stay hydrated, too, Andrea thought.

Andrea was nervous as she approached the bed. Miranda was practically delirious, and hadn't even seen her enter the room. "Miranda," Andrea began quietly, "Take this Tylenol to help bring down your fever." The older woman looked up at her. "I will get you a fresh, cool cloth. Is there anything else?" Andrea asked.

Miranda swallowed the three Tylenol and sank back into the bed. "Uhhhh, I'm so hot!" she cried.

Andrea quickly returned with a fresh, cold cloth, and cool cloths for her legs and neck as well. "Miranda, are you feeling alright aside from the fever?" Andrea asked, wondering if it was something more serious.

"Leave me alone!" Miranda shouted.

Andrea took a few steps back away from Miranda's bed and headed downstairs. Miranda was obviously not feeling well, and everyone was entitled to be a little extra bitchy when they're sick, right?

About ten minutes later, Andrea returned to Miranda's bedroom with a shopping bag full of items: ice cold cans of various sodas and carbonated water, a large bowl, and white vinegar. She took the cans over to Miranda and placed them in her hands. Miranda jumped at the coldness as Andrea instructed her to hold them until she cooled down. The young woman helped Miranda to move to a new spot on the bed—a cooler spot—and sat next to her.

"Miranda, have you ever heard of a vinegar bath?"

"Mmm-hmm," Miranda mumbled.

"Okay, I'm going to try it for you. It's been over an hour and your fever still hasn't gone down."

Andrea poured some vinegar onto a new washcloth and gently wiped Miranda's forehead, the back of her neck, her shoulders and arms. Pouring more vinegar on the washcloth, she started at Miranda's foot and worked her way upwards, then down the other leg. Andrea repeated this several times until Miranda's breathing calmed and she stopped whimpering. Taking the vinegar, bowl, and washcloths to the bathroom, Andrea washed up and returned to Miranda's side, removing the now-warm soda cans as well.

Andrea was exhausted. She couldn't discern whether Miranda was sleeping or unconscious, but since she could no longer feel the heat radiating from her body, Andrea pulled a sheet over her and curled up on the other side of the bed. There was no way Andrea could make it home without a power nap, and she felt it best to wait for Miranda to wake up, anyway.

Miranda woke as a chill wrapped her body. She reached down to pull up the duvet, but it wasn't there. Opening her eyes, she saw the duvet on her side of the bed folded back, forming a ridge down the center of the bed. On the other side, she saw Andrea, curled up in a ball, fast asleep.

Miranda recalled the events of the evening, the delirium surrounding her fever, and, judging by the smell, a vinegar bath. She looked at the young assistant warmly, her eyes full of longing. Miranda resisted reaching out to touch Andrea, instead turning to get up and use the bathroom. Her body ached, and she feared that she had the flu. She took a quick, hot shower and dressed a bit more modestly—a short robe accompanying her clean camisole and underwear.

As she stared at herself in the mirror, about to put on makeup, she hesitated. Andrea has seen me without makeup and hasn't run away, Miranda thought. One swipe of her powder brush across her face and she was finished. For once, she did not even feel like wearing makeup.

Miranda crawled back into bed feeling severely fatigued. Since it was Saturday and she wasn't expected at the office, she allowed herself the luxury of sleeping in. Miranda turned onto her right side and snuggled with the pile that was her goose down comforter, practically mirroring Andrea. Despite the exhaustion, she couldn't help but think of how good it felt to be spending her Saturday morning with Andrea, watching her sleep. Miranda reached her arm over and softly lay it on the young woman's, feeling her soft skin beneath her fingertips. Satisfied, Miranda closed her eyes.

Andrea wasn't sure how long she'd been asleep, but thankfully her dream about the Queen did not recur, at least while she was in Miranda's bed. Andrea opened her eyes, surprised to see the sun shining brightly through the window and Miranda's hand across her wrist.

Andrea took Miranda's hand in hers and slowly traced circles on her palm with her thumb. Observing Miranda's natural, perfectly manicured nails and wondering if she would ever feel those fingers on her skin. Jolting her back to the present, Miranda spoke.

"Andrea."

She quickly pulled her hand away and sat up, "Yes, Miranda. Are you feeling better? The fever seems to have subsided. What can I get you?" She rambled on and on.

"Calm down. You are correct in your assumption concerning the fever. You did not need to jump up and pull your hand away, though. It's Saturday morning and we are most definitely not at the office."

Andrea smiled at Miranda's comment about her hand. Maybe she liked me holding her hand, Andrea thought. "Miranda, you're clearly still a bit delirious. Can I get you something?"

Miranda chuckled, "Maybe some Advil? I'm a little achy this morning, but nothing major."

Andrea jumped up and fetched the Advil from the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, splashing some mouthwash in her mouth while she was there. She brought Miranda three Advil and a glass of water, and saw Miranda wince as she sank back down into the bed.

"Miranda, would it help if I rubbed your neck or your back or something?"

The older woman glared at Andrea at the suggestion, but since regular breathing was turning out to be painful, she shrugged her shoulders and turned to lie flat on her stomach on the bed.

Andrea kneaded the older woman's tense muscles, eliciting moans and grunts. After almost ten minutes, Miranda waved Andrea away, and the young assistant went downstairs to make Miranda a light breakfast.

Andrea was in the kitchen preparing some fruit, egg whites, and an english muffin along with Miranda's coffee when the editor sauntered down the stairs in silk leggings and her short robe. Miranda took her seat at the table and picked at the food while Andrea cleaned a few dishes, avoiding sitting with Miranda at the table.

Miranda's cell phone rang. When she went to answer it, she gestured to Andrea that she was finished eating, grabbed her coffee cup and took the phone call in the dining room. It sounded like she was talking to one of the girls, but Andrea wasn't sure. Once the kitchen was cleaned up, Andrea felt uncomfortable, like she didn't belong there. She grabbed the bag she left in the hallway and paced in the foyer for a few minutes, trying to decide whether to stay or leave. Finally choosing to stay just long enough to tell Miranda goodbye and be sure she was feeling okay, Andrea took a seat on the second step, waiting for Miranda to return, her head resting in her hands with her elbows to her knees.

Miranda ended the call with Cassidy and emerged from the dining room, spotting Andrea on the stairs. She took a seat next to her, watching the young woman who was sitting there with her eyes closed. Miranda reached over and softly brushed Andrea's forearm, "Andrea, you should lie down. You must be exhausted."

Andrea quickly sat up and gathered her bag, "Uh, no, that's okay," she responded, thinking to herself how wonderful a nap sounded. "If you're feeling better, I should be going." she said as she stood to leave.

Miranda quickly grabbed Andrea's wrist, holding her in place. "Did I miss something, Andrea? I did not dismiss you."

"Of course, Miranda. What else can I do for you?" Andrea replied reluctantly.

"No," Miranda said, "I should not have said that. I apologize. Go and do what you need to do."

A smile crept across Andrea's face at the older woman's apology. Andrea quickly squeezed Miranda's hand in hers. "Promise you will call right away if you need anything or your fever comes back?"

"Yes," Miranda replied, nodding her head.

"Bye, Miranda," Andrea said as she walked out the front door, locking it behind her.

Her mind was spinning. She hated to see her go, but the last thing she wanted was for people to think she was some clingy old woman. But the truth was, she enjoyed Andrea's company. Her presence in the house alone brought a smile to her face. I'm in such a mess, Miranda thought as she climbed the stairs, intent on going back to bed.

Andrea fell asleep the moment she got home and slept for several hours, waking around 8pm. She had to admit that she missed being around Miranda, especially outside the office. Miranda was so charming and…lovable, she could not imagine her life without her.

Miranda wanted to call Andrea, to hear the young woman's voice, but she didn't want to be labeled as desperate. Instead, she sent an email.

Dear Andrea, Thank you for attending to me last night and this morning. I am feeling much better thanks to you. Would you mind coming to the market with me tomorrow morning, sometime before 11am? If not, I can manage by myself, I just thought you might be interested. Miranda

Andrea did not check email that day, but luckily was up early on Sunday. Immediately upon reading the message, she showered and dressed in some skinny jeans, a blouse and scarf, and headed out the door for Miranda's house. When she arrived, she realized she never even told Miranda she was coming and she hoped Miranda hadn't left yet.

She rang the doorbell, but there was no response. Andrea didn't think it appropriate to use her key in this situation, so she sat on the porch, waiting. Soon, Miranda's car pulled up and she stepped out, giving Roy instructions to drive around the back and take the bags into the house. She was pleasantly surprised to see Andrea on her front steps, though she worried that something was wrong.

"Miranda! I'm so sorry," Andrea said, "I didn't have my phone volume up and I was so exhausted that I didn't see your email until this morning—but of course if you would have called I still would have heard—"

"Enough," Miranda said, waving her hand furiously in front of her to silence the young woman.

"Right. Bore someone else, I know. I'm sorry." Andrea said.

"Come for a walk with me, Andrea." Miranda said, reaching out her hand towards the young girl.

Andrea followed, not sure whether she should be excited or scared for her life, holding hands with Miranda as they walked along East 67th to the park.

"Why did you decide to come, Andrea?" Miranda asked after they had been walking in silence for some time.

Andrea thought for a moment before answering, but chose to be honest. "Because I like doing things for you and spending time with you." Miranda smiled, but did not respond. "I mean," Andrea continued, "I know you have a lot of assistants and staff who can take care of everything. I know I'm just another assistant, but I—I—I miss you when I don't see you." Andrea said with a sigh.

Miranda still said nothing, but led them slightly off the path into a grassy area where a few statues were. Miranda seemed to be interested in reading the inscriptions and plaques, but the only thing on Andrea's mind was how badly she wanted to kiss Miranda. She wasn't sure what would happen after that, but she knew she needed just one kiss, and she wasn't about to let the opportunity pass her by.

"Andrea, isn't this interesting?" Miranda said, gesturing at the plaque in front of them. Andrea did not respond, and Miranda turned to face her. The moment she saw Andrea's dark, hooded eyes, her heart began racing and she inhaled sharply. Before she could utter a word of protest, Andrea's full lips were pressing against her own, their tongues dueling as Miranda wrapped her hand in Andrea's hair, pulling her closer.

When they parted for air, Miranda buried her head on Andrea's shoulder, wrapping her other arm around the young woman.

"I can't believe I thought you were growing insecure on me," Miranda whispered.

"Now what, Miranda?" Andrea asked quietly, inhaling Miranda's scent as she buried her head in her hair.

"We could head back to the house," Miranda suggested.

"Mmm, ok."

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this, Andrea," Miranda said as they walked back, a gleam in her eye.

"Anything that pleases you, my Queen," Andrea said, smiling.

The End